IT IS easy to be pulled into a frustrating debate with mostly middle class and urban-based Mindanao residents about the perceived advantages of Martial Law to the peace and order situation in the southern Island. Understandably, the terms of argumentation largely become very experiential and also extremely subjective unfortunately. Before the threat of ISIS and the military clampdown on the ingress and egress of largely Christian-populated urban cities, many citizens proclaim that the heavy military presence and de facto military authoritarian regime actually make them feel safe.
EJ Mijares’ new documentary entitled “Defend: Stories of Mindanaons in the Time of Martial Law” produced in the first few months after Duterte’s declaration breaks this dominant perception. By training his inquiry into the experience of sectors in the margins that have come under siege since the declaration, Mijares’ has given voice for the voiceless in his work and thus challenge the hegemonic claim that Martial Law is both necessary and benign in Mindanao.
The documentary starts off with the account of Angelica of Quezon, Bukidnon, whose only fault it seems was that she was the daughter of an active farm union worker. Military men barged into her home one evening, retrieved planted ammo, and then hauled her off to detention despite her condition as a pregnant mother in order to force her to surrender as a rebel based on trumped-on charges. It is not that different from the case of Alfredo Omandam from Pangantucan, Bukidnon, who together with his wife, Amelia, were also arrested on the same modus of planted evidence. For the military, you are guilty by mere association with organizations that are known to fight for the rights of lowly agricultural workers in landlord-dominated Bukidnon.
Another marginalized sector that Martial Law in Mindanao has also targeted are the indigenous communities who continue to resist the entry of large scale mining and agricultural enterprises. We are exposed to the evacuation of Talaandig families from Tugaya, Valencia City also in Bukidnon who are driven away by military and paramilitary groups from their ancestral land. It is the same story as the Higaonon’s of Bagocboc, Opol, Misamis Oriental whose leader, Joseph Paborada, has been forced to surrender as a rebel because he has stood up for their rights as a community versus the A. Brown palm oil plantation that has encroached upon their ancestral land for decades. The same demand is made by the military forces before these helpless civilians, surrender and come back into the fold of the law as if fighting for IP rights makes one an outlaw.
The heart-wrenching narrative that is also exposed by the Mijares’ Defend are the unheard voices of the direct victims of the Marawi siege and its’ supposed liberation, the Maranao youth. Dominant media has so far painted the gallantry and the victory of the Philippine Armed Forces in their successful campaign against the Islamic forces who attacked Marawi. But often buried in the triumphalism after the victory, one that was achieved with a great number of casualties from the government side, were the equally devastating consequences to the displaced civilian population many of whom are the elderly, women, and children. The young Maranao children featured in this documentary are emphatic and crystal clear in their sentiments that they are the victims too of government’s brutal campaign and continue to be so as long as they are unable to return to their beloved community and pursue their normal way of life.
Such sentiments need to be made known but Martial Law has clamped down on their right to express themselves as seen in the footage during their September 21 Martial Law commemoration action in Iligan City. Martial Law is also what prevents from returning back to their community indefinitely given the plans to convert a huge chunk of Marawi into another military camp.
Mijares’ has also given space in his work to allow his documentary subjects to define what Martial Law means for them. Pregnant Angelica considers Martial Law as the cause of disorder in her community (gadala ug gubot-gubot). Joseph Paborada exposes the fact a de facto Martial Law is really in place because the military have no qualms in practicing their power (gagamit ug gahom) against them, defenseless civilians. Amelia Omandam also considers Martial Law as the license for government to file trumped-up charges against civilians (butang-butangan ug mga sala ang sibilyan). For the displaced young Maranao children, Martial Law meant their grief over what they lost as a community and the lingering fear over their uncertain future as a people as well as harboring deep feelings of hurt (pangungulila, takot, at sakit ng loob).
Mijares also makes it a point to register the distance of the places where these incidents occurred from that of Marawi City often reaching hundreds of kilometers away. I believe he is making an important point, not really to refute the arguments of many who believe that Martial Law makes them feel safe but to build upon this observation to create an important insight.
The peaceful havens that Martial Law has created and the mass of supporters it nurtures among the middle class in these mostly urban areas are meant to dissipate the effects of the brutal and organized persecution currently taking place in other areas of Mindanao. What Defend, the documentary wants us to do, is to consider coming to the defense of the voiceless and powerless from the literal margins given the blanket of impunity that Martial Law has provided this administration’s shock troops in Mindanao. Needless to say, it is a timely, necessary, and brave intervention and a must watch.