Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte poses for a selfie with Muslim lawmakers following the presentation of the signed Bangsamoro Organic Law at Malacanang Palace in Manila, Philippines, Aug. 6, 2018 (AP photo by Bullit Marquez).
On July 26, President Rodrigo Duterte signed a law paving the way for the long-awaited creation of a new self-governing region encompassing Muslim-majority areas on the Philippines’ conflict-wracked southern island of Mindanao. Known as the Bangsamoro Organic Law, it had been fiercely debated by lawmakers and rebel leaders amid political wrangling and ongoing violence. It aims to end a bloody separatist conflict that began in the early 1970s and has claimed thousands of civilian lives.
The bill’s passage is the culmination of four years of talks between the government and the 30,000-strong Moro Islamic Liberation Front, which has been fighting for greater autonomy in the south since its formation in 1981, when it broke away from the older Moro National Liberation Front. Both groups initially sought full independence through a lengthy guerrilla war in western Mindanao’s dense jungles, but in recent years they laid down their arms in pursuit of peace.
The proposed Bangsamoro autonomous region is set to have its own elected parliament, while promising Mindanao’s Moro Muslim inhabitants greater control of the region’s finances and access to revenues from natural resources. But will it set the region on the road to a sustainable and lasting peace? A series of roadblocks lie ahead. The new region must still be given the final seal of approval in a public vote later this year, while the impending transition and implementation period is set to run until 2022.
Political hurdles aside, a more serious threat to peace comes from a collection of smaller, more radical Islamist groups that has voiced their opposition to the law and vowed to continue their fight. The militants of Abu Sayyaf, the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters and the Islamic State-aligned Maute group are ready to pounce should the new autonomous entity fail to live up to expectations.
The Moro population’s roots in western Mindanao date back to the arrival of Arab traders in the Sulu islands during the 14th century, long before the Spanish and U.S. colonial era, when the region’s Muslims were marginalized amid the active promotion of Christian migration southward. That sense of marginalization grew under the post-independence military dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos and, when his regime was eventually toppled, under successive democratically elected administrations.
Decades of fighting between the Philippine military and the two Moro rebel fronts raged until 1989, when an agreement with the Moro National Liberation Front led to the creation of the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao. Still in place today, the region has long been considered a failure, constituting autonomy in name only. A second deal was signed with the group in 1996, but it had little impact until 2014, when the Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro envisaged the more powerful Moro Islamic Liberation Front finally trading peace for greater autonomy.
The law granting autonomy to Bangsamoro that Duterte signed last month met many of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front’s original demands outlined four years ago. The new Bangsamoro region will have its own 80-member elected parliament, with lawmakers given the power to enact laws and appoint a chief minister as the region’s figurehead. The region will also receive an unconditional annual grant of around $1.3 billion and 75 percent of taxes collected from its provinces by Manila. Geographically, it will cover the same territory as the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao, encompassing the mainland provinces of Maguindanao and Lanao del Sur, in addition to the island provinces of Basilan, Sulu and Tawi-Tawi. Several other municipalities and cities outside of these provinces will be given the opportunity to join Bangsamoro in the referendum later this year.
The Bangsamoro government will receive 100 percent of revenues accrued from the development and use of most natural resources within the region’s borders, while revenue-sharing arrangements have been agreed to for uranium, fossil fuels and inland water resources that supply other areas of Mindanao. On issues of defense and security, however, the military and the Philippine national police will continue to have overall responsibility. The new law rules out the creation of a separate Moro army or police force.
July’s agreement was hailed in both Manila and Mindanao. The government’s peace envoy, Jesus Dureza, described the moment as a “long-awaited dream coming true”; Duterte himself has spoken of correcting “historical injustices” committed against the Moro population. The Moro Islamic Liberation Front’s vice chairman, Ghazali Jaafar, said the law would create an autonomous region “above” the level of Muslim Mindanao, adding that the rebel leadership was “100 percent satisfied” with the final version of the law. The leader of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front, Al-Hajj Murad Ebrahim, has also expressed his support, and in a rally for supporters at the group’s remote Camp Darapanan base near the western coast of Mindanao, senior rebel leaders urged all Muslims to back the deal.
Political hurdles aside, a more serious threat to peace in Mindanao comes from a collection of Islamist groups that has vowed to continue their fight.
Despite these positive reactions and a mood of relief, if not celebration, it remains to be seen whether the new law will succeed in quelling Mindanao’s rebellion in its entirety.
The transition toward the new region is unlikely to be smooth. Although the Moro Islamic Liberation Front and the Philippine army have not clashed regularly for years, deeply ingrained mindsets and mutual suspicions could undermine the new law. The rebels have promised to disarm their 30,000 fighters and transform their camps into “productive civilian communities,” but that will be hard to realize. Former rebel leaders will likely find the move into politics easier than regular armed members who now face the daunting challenge of adjusting to civilian life and reintegrating into society. And with Manila set to maintain control over security in the region, tensions could erupt over the encroachment of army personnel into former separatist strongholds.
Another sticking point is the position of the older Moro National Liberation Front, which was not involved in the Bangsamoro-centered peace process. Both Duterte and the veteran Moro leadership have said they will reach out to the Moro National Liberation Front’s longtime de-facto leader, Nur Misuari, in an attempt to engage him in the ongoing dialogue. The older front is thought to be broadly supportive of the new autonomous region, and is not expected to take up arms and disrupt the peace process. Other groups, however, may be much harder to bring on board.
A host of radical Islamist groups active in Mindanao outwardly reject the idea of the Bangsamoro region and have said they will continue to fight for either a fully independent Moro nation or an Islamic State-style caliphate. Violence from these groups escalated in recent months as the Bangsamoro law neared the end of its marathon journey through the Philippine Congress. In mid-June, the Bangsamoro Islamic Freedom Fighters, the most powerful and well-resourced of these groups, which poses the largest threat to the peace process, clashed with government troops for several days in an area of southern Mindanao known as the Liguasan Marsh, before attempting to take over a town in Maguindanao province in July. The fighters’ spokesperson, Abu Misri Mama, recently warned that “we are not in favor of autonomy; this island will not see peace even after the [Bangsamoro Organic Law] is passed.”
There have also been renewed clashes with the Maute group—the architects of last year’s five-month siege of the city of Marawi. And Abu Sayyaf, which has waged a campaign of terror on outlying islands since splitting from the Moro Islamic Liberation Front in 1990, carried out a suicide bombing at a military checkpoint on the island of Basilan on July 31, killing 11 people.
Still, great strides have been made in recent years. After an especially brutal ambush in 2015, when militants killed 44 police officers, lawmakers put plans for the new Bangsamoro region on the backburner. Yet since the July 2016 election of Duterte, who hails from the troubled island of Mindanao, the peace process has gained continual momentum, with the long-awaited Bangsamoro region now on the horizon. Sensing the moment, Duterte is now trying to crush radical elements in Mindanao while a state of martial law remains in place.
That won’t guarantee the dream of Bangsamoro autonomy, though. A plebiscite in proposed areas of the new region is required within 150 days to ratify its creation, while the transition from the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao is likely to be long and arduous. But too much time and energy has been invested, and Mindanao has a lot to lose if the deal fails, with extremist groups looking to capitalize on any false promises and frustration. Both the government and Moro separatists must tread carefully as the hard work of securing a lasting peace begins.
[Michael Hart is a freelance writer and researcher focusing on civil conflict and the politics of East Asia. He has written for The Diplomat, Eurasia Review and Geopolitical Monitor, among other publications.]
https://www.worldpoliticsreview.com/articles/25598/is-duterte-s-green-light-for-autonomy-in-the-southern-philippines-a-path-to-peace
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