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By Jaileen F. Jimeno, Philippine
Center For Investigative Journalism
MAGUINDANAO: The sound of sirens
precedes the passing of a long convoy of 4x4 sport utility vehicles.
As if on cue, jeepneys and private vehicles begin moving to the
right side of the street, where they stop.
“Kailangan tumabi ka, kasi
babanggain ka nila. Palalabasin nilang kaaway ka [You have to get
out of their way, otherwise they’ll hit your car. And then
they’ll make it appear you’re one of their enemies],” said an
old man watching the scene by the roadside.
Asked if he knows whose convoy of
black, heavily tinted vehicles is whizzing by, the man replied
without hesitation: “Si Governor. Ganyan ang mga sasakyan niya
[The Governor. That’s how his vehicles look like].”
In the last two weeks, this
southern province has become one of the sites of a serial
cat-and-mouse battle between soldiers and rebels from a faction of
the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), displacing thousands of
people. But the armed clashes aside, residents here know that only
one family wields real power in Maguindanao: the Ampatuans, led by
its acknowledged patriarch, Governor Andal Ampatuan.
It may not only be peace between
combatants but respite from political clans that Maguindanao needs.
The Ampatuans are just the latest
in a long line of political dynasties that have endured in Mindanao.
Yet while the Ampatuan clan has lorded over Maguindanao only since
2001, several of its members have already managed to grab key
government positions, elective and appointive, and not only in the
province itself.
In 2005, Andal Ampatuan’s son
Zaldy, then 38 years old, became the governor of the Autonomous
Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM), the youngest ever to head the
regional government.
And if the results of the recent
ARMM polls are any indication, the Ampatuans seem to be digging in
for the long haul. The baby-faced Zaldy took more than 90 percent of
the votes among seven candidates in the ARMM elections held just a
few weeks ago. His closest rival Indanan Mayor Alvarez Isnaji got
just over 2 percent of the votes.
It did not help Isnaji any that
he was battling kidnapping charges filed by the Philippine National
Police (PNP) against him and his son, Haider, midway through the
campaign. But Ma. Krizna Gomez of the Legal Network for Truthful
Elections (LENTE) observes: “We were all surprised to not see any
election campaign materials [other than Zaldy Ampatuan’s] around
the province. The dynasty runs deep into the entire political setup
and this is capped by the election result itself.”
Guns, Palace blessing
Andal Ampatuan has four wives and
more than 30 children, and intermarriages with other political clans
have made his political stock stronger. But political analysts trace
the clan’s formidable clout to two main factors: guns and the
blessings of Malacañang. They even note that no less than the
Palace made it legal for the Ampatuans to have hundreds of armed men
and women under their employ.
The 1987 Constitution bans
private armed groups. In July 2006, however, the Arroyo
administration issued Executive Order 546, allowing local officials
and the police to deputize barangay tanods as “force
multipliers” in the fight against insurgents. In practice, the
executive order allows local officials to convert their private
armed groups into legal entities with a fancy name: civilian
volunteer organizations.
Interestingly, President Gloria
Arroyo issued the Executive Order just weeks after a bombing in the
Shariff Aguak public market that killed five people. Andal Ampatuan,
who has survived several other ambushes, was said to have been the
target.
According to a military officer
who served for 16 years in ARMM—five of them in Maguindanao—Andal
Ampatuan employs about 200 civilian volunteer organization members.
The officer added that Ampatuan’s sons and relatives maintain
armed men, supposedly for their protection. (Andal’s eldest son
Saudi was killed in a bomb blast in Shariff Aguak 2002.)
“Everybody carries firearms,
mga paltik [homemade guns],” said the military officer. “Or
[they] either borrow from the military or the PNP, or they buy.”
A soldier who spent five years on
assignment in Maguindanao said of the civilian volunteer
organizations here: “They support the internal security
requirement of the capitol or the municipio.” He adds that while
some of the civilians are paid by the local government in areas
where they serve, they are often “borrowed” for personal use by
local officials.
And whenever they board the back
of spiffy pickups that are staples of Ampatuan convoys, these
civilian members typically lug long firearms. At times, the convoys
of 20 vehicles or more also begin and end with pickups mounted with
big machine guns.
Indeed, long before the military
resumed chasing the MILF in earnest across the region, Maguindanao
was already dotted with checkpoints. Soldiers manned entrances to
municipal halls, and armored vehicles hogged major road networks.
The Philippine Center of
Investigative Journalism tried for months to interview Andal
Ampatuan here and during his visits in Manila, but Maguindanao
provincial administrator Norie Unas repeatedly said the governor
does not grant interviews. Instead, it has been Unas who has fielded
questions.
In an interview late last year,
Unas said the older Ampatuan’s political stance has earned his
clan several enemies, hence the need for heightened security. Unas
explained that while previous Maguindanao leaders played footsies
with secessionist forces, “Governor Ampatuan is not really
sympathetic to the MILF or other forces wishing for a separatist
Muslim state.”
But Datu Michael Mastura, former
congressman of Maguindanao’s First District, seems less than
convinced by the argument. “I will tell you, the word
‘impunity’ does not even suit it. It’s inappropriate,” he
said, referring to the Ampatuans’ chronic show of force. Pointing
to the clan’s numerous bodyguards and vehicles, Mastura wonders
aloud: “Just imagine, how do you maintain them? How do you house
them?”
No one here is ready to come
forward with any answers to that, but at the very least, the
presence of armed men and women helps explain why residents would
rather not do anything to cross an Ampatuan. One journalist who
unwittingly did is certainly thankful that all he got was a
dressing-down from the provincial governor.
The journalist had helped a
colleague get in touch with the Ampatuans for an article that the
governor apparently perceived to be unflattering. The helpful
journalist said he was summoned to the governor’s mansion and
there received a tongue-lashing. “I just sat there,” he said,
“and took it, not saying a word.”
‘Hello, Garci’ then 12-0
in 2007
To some political analysts, it is
easy to explain why the Ampatuans command solid hold on Maguindanao:
The clan enjoys close ties with the Palace in faraway Manila, simply
because the clan has managed to deliver the votes for administration
candidates.
In its 2007 Elections Forensics
Report, the Center for People Empowerment in Governance (CenPEG)
reported: “The Ampatuan dynasty based in Maguindanao province is
[President] Arroyo’s present conduit in helping ensure her
influence over the whole of Mindanao, which hosts many of the
country’s grizzled but otherwise powerful political clans.”
During the 2004 presidential
elections, “[Governor Andal] Ampatuan addressed the political
requirement of [Mrs.] Arroyo,” said Bobby Tuazon, the center’s
director for policy study, publication and advocacy. “She needed
somebody to control the votes.”
In the controversial “Hello,
Garci” recordings, then elections Commissioner Virgilio Garcillano
was heard saying that Maguindanao would not be “much of a
problem” for President Arroyo. His words turned out to be more
than prophetic, with Maguindanao giving Mrs. Arroyo 193,938 votes,
against the 59,892 votes obtained by popular action film star
Fernando Poe Jr. In Ampatuan and Datu Piang towns, Poe even scored
zero, and in the capital Shariff Aguak and other Maguindanao towns,
received just a handful of votes.
In the 2007 congressional and
local elections, the 12 senatorial candidates of the
administration’s Team Unity slate made a clean sweep of the polls
in Maguindanao, or scored 12-0, to be exact. Family members and
allies of the Ampatuans who ran for local positions also clinched
wins.
Maguindanao officials have since
brushed off suspicions of election fraud, saying local candidates
did not bother campaigning for their own seats. They said that
“negotiations” were held before the elections to “amicably”
settle the battle for positions. Besides, they note, many of the
Ampatuan candidates had run unopposed and thus had devoted time to
campaign for the administration’s senatorial slate.
In an interview last year,
Maguindanao Provincial Administrator Unas said political contests
here are settled even before any balloting through “consultation
and consensus-building.”
“People are critical of our
system and ridicule us for the manner by which we choose our
leaders,” he said. But, he asserted, it is a system that works for
the province, “not that demo-democracy.”
“We know that the Manila system
does not fit us,” Unas said. “We have stabilized the political
landscape because there’s no contest every election. This is one
better way for us Muslims coming out with our leaders.”
But Ely Manalansan Jr., a fellow
of the Center for People Empowerment in Governance, insisted that
shura or the Islamic practice of consultation was not a factor in
Team Unity’s 12-0 win in Maguindanao. He said that even Islamic
experts dismiss such an assertion, adding, “[It] merely serves as
a justification for the widespread and systematic fraud perpetrated
by the administration during elections in Mindanao.”
Last year, public schoolteacher
Musa Dimasidsing had also revealed that days before the 2007 vote,
he had seen teachers and students writing and then putting their
thumb marks on ballots. Days after he spoke up, Dimasidsing was shot
dead. His murder remains unsolved.
No ‘big man’ monopoly
Tuazon, also of the Center of
People Empowerment in Governance, cautioned against stereotyping
this conduct of elections as unique to Maguindanao and ARMM.
“Oligarchs also rule in Luzon and Visayas, and you will see a lot
of similarities in what is happening there in the Moro homeland.”
“Ampatuan is no different from
[Luis] Chavit Singson,” said Fr. Eliseo Mercado Jr., who briefly
chaired the government peace panel with the MILF. Singson, former
governor of Ilocos Sur in northern Luzon, has built a reputation for
keeping an iron grip on his home province.
Unas himself acknowledges the
perception that Ampatuan is a warlord. Reached by phone recently, he
said, “May katotohanan din siguro. The same way na may perception
na warlord sina Joson [of Nueva Ecija] at Singson, [Probably
there’s truth to that. The same way there is a perception that the
Josons of Nueva Ecija and the Singsons are warlords].”
But the provincial administrator
denied that the capitol pays for the civilian volunteer
organizations protecting Ampatuan and his clan. He said the
civilians are hired and funded by town mayors, while those who guard
the governor are made up of soldiers, policemen, and civilians
“who, as Muslims, will die for their leader.”
This relationship between leaders
and the governed, said Unas, has its roots in the history of Muslim
communities down south, and is found not only in Maguindanao.
Poverty, mega projects
In Mercado’s view, the
resiliency of the Ampatuan clan will rest mainly on its ability to
deliver the needs of its constituents. Then again, if Mercado is
right, the Ampatuans’ days in power may be numbered, based on the
province’s sorry showing in several sectors.
For one, despite the Ampatuans’
expanded powerbase, Maguindanao’s poverty numbers are worsening.
In 2000, the poverty incidence was recorded at 59.3 percent. It grew
to 60.4 percent in 2003, and rose further to 62 percent in 2006,
turning Maguindanao into the third poorest province in the country.
For another, Maguindanao’s
spending for education remains low, even as the elementary
teacher-to-pupil ratio has worsened to 51 in school year 2005 to
2006, from 43.9 in school year 2000 to 2001.
These bad statistics are among
the reasons why, according to the Philippine Human Development
Report of 2005, only 39.7 percent of adults in Maguindanao have six
years of basic education, compared with the national average of 84
percent.
Also, the 2005 report revealed
that Maguindanao has the second lowest life expectancy in the
Philippines at 52 years, edged out only by Tawi-Tawi’s 51.2 years.
The National Statistical Coordination Board (NSCB) reports as well
that the number of health stations in the province has remained
stagnant at 163, from 2000 to 2006.
Amid worsening poverty and
education services for its population of 600,000 as of last year,
Maguindanao has been pouring money into new town halls and a bigger
capitol. The latter is now estimated to cost the province about P116
million, or nearly twice as much as the original price tag of P60
million.
According to Unas, Andal Ampatuan
had asked President Arroyo for help in funding the new capitol
project. Mrs. Arroyo, Unas said, committed an initial P20 million,
paving the way for construction work to start.
The renovation project has since
evolved into a government center that will feature other huge
structures, including a sports-and-culture center that would cost
P80 million.
Maguindanao is not lacking in
funds. On top of benefiting from foreign and ARMM-funded projects,
it received an internal revenue allotment of P555 million in 2005,
which grew to P633 million the following year.
Yet of the P590-million budget
the capitol lined up for 2006, P124 million or 21 percent was set
aside for the provincial governor’s office alone. More than P185
million or 31 percent, meanwhile, went to the salaries and benefits
of the capitol’s 587 employees.
The people’s view
The people in Maguindanao offer a
common opinion of Andal Ampatuan as “mabait [a good person].”
One resident said, “If you need a job, he’ll provide one for
you.” Another said, “We don’t say no to him because he takes
care of us.”
But such positive comments almost
always come with a caveat: “Basta sundin mo ang gusto niya [As
long as you do as he says].”
“He is like a pharaoh. That’s
what people call him,” said Mastura, himself a member of one of
Mindanao’s prominent families. “You don’t go against his
wishes.”
The one person who has tried to
keep the Ampatuans in check, albeit in his own turf, is Davao City
Mayor Rodrigo Duterte.
Over the years, Duterte, who is
known for his tough stance against crime, has repeatedly warned
various clans—not only the Ampatuans, to be sure—against
“misbehaving” in Davao City. But Duterte has also zeroed in on
younger Ampatuan scions for using sirens whenever they drive around
Davao. In 2006, Duterte let it rip when three Ampatuan youths were
arrested in his city for possession of high-powered firearms,
including rifles fitted with telescopic sights, and rounds of
ammunition.
“Davao City is not your
kingdom,” a fuming Duterte had reportedly said. “If you want to
show off, you better do it in your place, not here.”
Unfortunately for Duterte,
Maguindanao has no known nightlife to keep privileged youths
entertained and occupied.
Once the sun sets in this
province, the roads turn empty, save for one or two vehicles rushing
to their destinations, and the occasional convoy of huge, black cars
and pickups flashing their lights and sounding their sirens.
Invariably, the convoy carries an Ampatuan as passenger.
Editor’s note: The Manila Times
will publish a sidebar to this story, about civilian volunteer
organizations, on Friday.
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