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Posted on Thursday, June 5, 2003

 

Shortcuts jeopardize SC decision
granting ancestral land to ‘lumad’

By Inday Espina-Varona

Third of 4 parts

Efforts by the Alcantara clan of General Santos City, who oc­cupy a 932-hectare estate ordered returned to indigenous peoples by the Supreme Court, hastened the departure of Environ­ment and Natural Resources Sec­retary Heherson Alvarez from President Arroyo’s Cabinet.

Alvarez’s exit was scheduled for December 16 last year. It was moved up three days following a December 11 Malacañang meeting attended by the President and Elisea Gozun, Alvarez’s successor.

Gozun immediately suspended the department’s memoranda that would have forced out the pasture and timber operations of Nicasio and Felicisimo Alcantara in two areas sanctioned for return to lumad petitioners.

The Alvarez order also paved the way for the immediate installation of Ro­lando Paglangan and his repre­sentatives on 300 hectares set aside for their group, with the same pro­cedures for a similar case.

Besides losing their Forest Land Grazing Lease Agree­ment (542) in Apo­pong, the Alcantaras had also lost a High Court battle in Ca­buay, claimed by the Sinawal Multipurpose B’laan Farmers’ Cooperative. Nicasio runs the Apopong estate; his brother, Felicisimo, holds the lease to Cabuay.

The Cabuay land was covered by FLGLA 552, issued on May 13, 1991, with an original expiry date on June 30, 1994. The Cabuay lease, however, was increased from 1,400 hectares to 2,000 hectares and extended until June 30, 2019.

Chaos

Gozun’s order sparked a furor. Alvarez, who retains close ties with Mrs. Arroyo and represents her as presidential adviser on the overseas Filipino communities, has accused his successor of defying a Supreme Court order. Much has been made of Gozun’s ties with the influential Alcantara clan.

However, the Gozun memorandum, which followed an investigation into department procedures, disclosed several missteps. Shortcuts had allegedly led to a violation of due process. Worse, a strategic error provided opportunities for exploitation that could lead to a new cycle of upheaval on an already bloodied land.

Gozun’s order noted that Alvarez’s memorandum on the Apopong estate was issued on November 22, 2002, only a day after Alcantara’s motion for reconsideration was denied. A December 5, 2002, memorandum covered the Cabuay estate. Both actions by Alvarez violated administrative rules that decisions become final and executory only after parties to a case receive their copies.

Protesting the new department order, Alvarez and winning litigants note that the final installation order came more than a year after the Supreme Court upheld a Court of Appeals decision favoring lumad claimants to the Alcantara estates. Short of overturning a Supreme Court ruling, there was nothing Alvarez could have done to extend the clan’s hold on its operations.

However, the two installation orders, issued by a community environment officer, Andrew B. Patricio, also had serious flaws: Failure to identify the adjudged parties or recognized claimants and failure to secure segregation of the area by the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples. The latter, Gozun said, is provided for in the Indigenous People’s Reform Act.

Gozun ordered her department’s field staff to suspend all surveys on the land, ensure no additional entrants are allowed into the disputed areas and designate a contiguous area within the Alcantara estates for temporary occupation by the rightful claimants.

She also told department personnel to help the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples do a physical inventory to safeguard the interests of other claimants and ensure that Alcantara properties are not touched “pending final resolution of the remedies they availed themselves of.”

‘Social justice’

In an interview with The Manila Times, Alvarez dismissed Gozun’s explanation. He was full of bluster and peppered his discourse with light curses against opponents and critics. The important thing, he says, is to redress the grievance of the lumad. Social justice, he claims, was his only motive as a social reformer.

Alvarez, a presidential adviser who holds a Cabinet rank, is the author of the current agrarian reform law, which he describes as “perfect.”

The only problem with agrarian reform, he says, is lack of funds.

The Cooperative Development Authority, created by a law also authored by Alvarez, would have provided beneficiaries with critical support.

“But those goddamned colleagues of mine did not want to fund this. They gave P110 million when I had asked for billions!”

Alvarez insists Gozun’s role should have been limited to “the administrative process.”

“Settle them [claimants] there, then hand over the matter to the NCIP [National Commission on Indigenous Peoples].”

He says Gozun erred in issuing a hold order and brushes aside the government and the claimants’ claim of the influx of squatters.

Says Alvarez, “That’s another issue. But first you enforce the court order. Then you get the NCIP to do genealogical surveys.”

And if the squatters are found not to be B’laan or Maguindanaoan?

Alvarez says like American Indians, scattered indigenous folk had intermarried with Christian settlers. “If you have one-fourth B’laan blood, you get a corresponding share of the land,” he says. Pure indigenous folk, he says, get a bigger share.

NCIP officials smile at this proposal. It’s very creative, they say, but it’s the first time they’ve heard of it. The problem is, the Indigenous People’s Reform Act and its implementing rules and guidelines failed to chart a clear road map for the NCIP.

Alvarez, perhaps in deference to President Arroyo, would not discuss Gozun’s ties to the Alcantaras. Earlier, however, aides had intimated that Gozun had benefited from the clan, through her husband’s huge “retirement income,” from Alsons, the Alcantaras’ holding company.

Gozun does not deny the ties to the clan but insists her order was based solely on the need to protect the Supreme Court’s decision, by ensuring the land goes to “the proper claimants.”

Suspicious procedures

Nicasio Alcantara has gone to court again, contesting in the appellate court the legality of Alvarez’s order. Gozun insists the cancellation of the Alcantaras’ lease on two estates remains in force. Yet, while her directives were aimed at minimizing chaos in a land-rush atmosphere, thousands of squatters–many of them non-lumad–have invaded the disputed areas, claiming they have given money to claimants for a right to homesteads.

The Alcantaras do not deny that Alvarez’s order to cancel their leases in Apopong and Cabuay came a year after the Supreme Court affirmed the recommendations of the Commission on the Settlement of Land Problems to declare the estates ancestral lands.

Although they acknowledge that the settlement commission’s recommendations had become final, the Alcantaras insist that only the national commission has the sole authority to determine the legitimate claimants, within the parameters of the court case. Alvarez’s cancellation of their leases came before either the national commission or the settlement commission could determine the rightful claimants.

Nicasio’s spokesman, Julian Montemayor, also casts suspicion on violations of regular procedures in the issuance of orders. It was Alvarez’s personal security chief, Val Lopez, who served the cancellation/installation notice on Patricio.

Four days later the community environment officer issued an order to carry out Alvarez’s memorandum. On the same day, Patricio issued two orders: the first requiring the demolition/dismantling of Alcantara’s structures in Apopong within 10 days and the second deleting the time frame.

Patricio would later grant Nicasio a 20-day extension but ordered him to allow the claimants enter to the estate.

Alvarez explains Lopez’s role, with a claim that field officers could not enforce his cancellation order, because of beefed-up security in the Alcantara estate.

“If you’re a secretary, you want your order enforced. So I sent him [Lopez] to talk to the Army. Not to enforce but to seek help in enforcing. I told them to avoid the police because when you have this kind of huge social problem, it’s better to get the Army’s help.”

Gozun’s fears are legitimate. Last December 20 General Santos City Mayor Pedro Acharon Jr. sought an investigation into Alvarez’s December 3 order covering the Cabuay lease of Felicisimo. Acharon pointed out that although the case beneficiary was the Sinawal B’laan Multipurpose Cooperative, most of the people who were installed were residents neither of Sinawal nor of the B’laan tribe.

Dragging it out

Nicasio had questioned the lumad’s continuous possession of the land “since time immemorial,” noting that the original lease was issued in 1935, but the Supreme Court upheld the settlement commission on this matter, saying the clan had not refuted the lumad historical claim of being driven from their lands. The commission’s recommendation to return the land to indigenous inhabitants noted that the use of fraud and overwhelming force to evict them from their homelands was a historical fact, supported by photographs.

The settlement commission also said the Alcantaras’ claim of breach of contract does not hold water, because the document itself violated a Marcos presidential decree that purportedly sought to reinstall displaced indigenous folk. The Court of Appeals upheld the commission’s ruling altogether.

In contesting Alvarez’s order in the appellate court, Nicasio said that Alvarez should have first referred the matter to the national commission to determine the claimants and his rights as a leaseholder, and identify the 300 hectares Rolando Paglangan claimed for his group.

He accused Alvarez of issuing the final cancellation order without prior hearings to determine factual issues in the contested August 15, 2002, memorandum.

Alcantara has his own take on proper procedures following the Supreme Court’s ruling. These would require the following steps:

Creation of an environment department task force to review any FGLA violations;

Issuance by the report and recommendations of the task force;

Conduct of hearings by the department’s legal department before endorsement of the task force report;

Resolution of the status of the case by the environment secretary;

Endorsement of the recommendation to the Office of the President for clearance and approval;

Endorsement to the national commission or the settlement commission for the final verification of valid indigenous claimants; and

National commission’s recommendation on the decision “subject to recognizing existing rights of leaseholder until expiration of contract, which is 2018.”

For the moment, Alcantara is using the legal process to get his way. This in itself is a relief, considering the clan’s involvement in more bloody disputes in the Davao provinces. (See Part 4 tomorrow)

Political clout

But Nicasio may be asking too much. His proposed procedures would in effect return the issue to square one. In this light, and given that Gozun seems to be following at least the first steps of his proposed process, the concerns raised by Alvarez and the claimants are valid.

The Alcantara model would drag on the case for years, opening up the issue to vagaries of political expediency.

That President Arroyo has taken a personal hand in the issue also raises suspicion that once more the Alcantaras are using their political clout to protect their interests in Mindanao. A member of the clan, Tomas Alcantara, was former trade secretary. Nicasio, president of Petron Corp., is himself a member of a close circle of informal presidential advisers.

Earlier, former President Fidel V. Ramos had written to his environment secretary, Victor Ramos, to heap praise on Alcantara’s operations in General Santos City. Shortly after, the department granted Alcantara an extension on his lease–although the winning litigant, Paglangan, had already filed an ancestral claim.

Says the appellate court’s petition for certiorari’s preparatory statement: “Heads of departments, bureaus and offices in the Office of the President are the latter’s alter egos, and the President can validly overrule them. Thus, under Administrative Order No. 18 (Series of 1987) of the Office of the President, an appeal [to the same office] shall be taken within 30 days from receipt by the aggrieved party of the decision/resolution/order [of departments].”

Alcantara, however, has taken the President out of the line of fire with his petition to the appellate court, which premises the search for judicial, rather than administrative, action on the following factors:

Violation of due process;

Focus on a purely legal question;

Patently illegal administrative action displaying lack or excess of jurisdiction;

The presence of irreparable injury;

Circumstances that indicate unreasonable delay could greatly prejudice the complaint; and

Involvement of strong public interest.

Julian Montemayor, overseer of the Alcantara estate, says a decision of a Cabinet member can always be appealed with the Office of the President.

The Alcantaras, Montemayor says, decided against that option, because “they did not want to put the President in a bad light, to have her official family squabbling.”

So they went to the Court of Appeals to contest Alvarez’s order canceling FLGLA 542.

In his appeal, Alcantara hangs on to his lease, claiming the Indigenous People’s Reform Act declares that contracts “must be respected” when the land is placed under the category of ancestral domain. He cites the investment of “a great deal of fortune for the improvement of the [lease] area.”

The settlement commission’s recommendation found Alcantaras’ lease flawed from the start. The appellate court’s decision, affirmed by the Supreme Court, upheld the commission’s ruling altogether.

Alcantara scores the settlement commission for designating 923 hectares as ancestral lands when Paglangan sought only a 300-hectare portion. He questions the cancellation of his lease because that issue was not raised by Paglangan. It was, however, tackled in the settlement com­mission’s decision, apparently because Alcantara raised the issue of breach of contract in his argument.

At the least, Alcantara says, Alvarez should have given him a proper hearing, since he had never been charged with violating the terms of the lease.

Ooops, bad moves

With the Supreme Court ruling, it is a wonder that the department under Alvarez undertook such a hasty, haphazard manner to cement a solid legal victory for the lumad.

For example, Patricio’s orders to carry out Alvarez’s memoradum are curious. First, he gives Alcantara barely 10 days to dismantle an operation that has existed for decades and that involves millions of pesos in infrastructure work. His second order is worse, calling for Alcantara to remove all his improvements “immediately.” Short of blasting his estate to kingdom come, no way could Alcantara have complied with the community environmental officer’s orders.

Those two orders followed successively in one day. The next day, November 27, 2002, Patricio ordered Alcantara to allow the “adjudged party” to enter the leasehold.

The latter moves by the department also contradicted Alvarez’s original installation order, issued on August 15, 2002. That order canceled Alcantara’s lease and placed the land and its resources under department control, “pending the final distribution by the national commission of the subject lands among the indigenous cultural group concerned.”

Alvarez denies knowledge of Patricio’s series of conflicting orders, as well as Datu Nasser Pendatun’s identification of Lopez as the man who persuaded him to sign documents attacking Gozun and national commission officials. Lopez has not replied to The Times’ request for an interview, coursed through Alvarez’s office.

Alcantara had earlier lost a challenge covering the settlement commission’s authority to hear the case, since the Indigenous People’s Reform Act mandates the national commission as the proper agency to hear disputes over ancestral domains. The Court of Appeals, however, upheld the settlement commission’s position that it had the authority to hear land disputes if the national commission and the environment department fail to act on complaints. Paglangan’s complaint with the settlement commission said he had laid claim to the Apopong land as early as 1990 but that he had been ignored by the department, which extended Alcantara’s claim in 1995.

On November 29, 2002, Alcantara sought an injunction from the appellate court. He may not have needed it. President Arroyo and Gozun have proved to be very cooperative allies.

Contradictory moves

Other aspects of the Alcantara case also show how government agencies can work at cross purposes.

In an interview, Councilor Zoilo Abing said the city government had already applied for cancellation of the lease through a presidential proclamation but that the papers remain at the level with the environment department.

Said Abing: “We negotiated with the Alcantaras. We asked them to give that land, since they already have a big area of pastureland, almost 7,000 [6,751] hectares covering five areas, almost half of General Santos City’s total pasture area of 15,649 hectares.”

During the negotiations, the Alcantaras asked to be in charge of the new township development. “Mahirap yata ’yan, that’s for poor constituents,” Abing said. “We need that for 13,000 urban-poor residents. We told them, maybe they can be in charge of the commercial district.”

Abing, who heads the council committee investigating the Alcantara land dispute, sought from the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples the list of areas being claimed by the B’laan, Maguindanaoan and other lumad folk.

Documents show lumad claims cover 11,557 hectares, involving 25 areas. The city’s total land area, Abing says, is 53,606 hectares. Of this, 29 families control 15,649 hectares of pastureland, with the Alcantaras accounting for almost half.

The township plan was first broached by Mayor Lita Nuñez, who was aided by environment officials during the negotiations.

Montemayor says there were about four meetings. Negotiations had reached the stage of the city coming up with a development plan and passing this to the Alcantaras, for determination of their participation.

Elections halted the negotiations but the next mayor, Adel Antonino, pursued the plan.

The city government came out with a memorandum of agreement with the Alcantaras. This was, however, rejected by the environment department’s legal department, which noted that reversion of the land to the state required signatories to be government agencies.

“Adel didn’t like that,” says Montemayor. The ranch owners were bemused, he says, because nothing changed but the signatories in the second draft.

During this period, the Alcantara lease was already being reviewed for renewal.

“Because Adel did not want to sign, we went back to the DENR, which nullified the memorandum, and renewed our pasture lease,” says Montemayor.

When Antonino found out, he came out with a proposal for an economic zone and free port and pursued it through a presidential proclamation. Unfortunately for Antonino, his ally, then-President Joseph Estrada, was deposed by People Power 2.

Asked whether the Alcantaras would have worked with Antonino, Montemayor complained about “malice.”

“Why did he not sign the memorandum [with the DENR]? The next thing we knew, he had a different memorandum and this was between the city government and the military and national housing authorities.”

The new memorandum covered more than 100 hectares of land within the estate.

The planned relocation site for the urban poor of incumbent Mayor Pedro Acharon Jr., covering 41.6 hectares, also lies inside the estate.

Montemayor questions why the community environment officer, Andrew Patricio, approved the plan.

“Who is he to approve that? It’s a national decision,” the Alcantara overseer complained. “’Yun pala and cancellation, panahon ni Ceriles, meron na.”

Acharon notes that a decision by the settlement commission dating from 1927 classifies the land as alienable and disposable. But that, Montemayor claims, was superseded by an administrative order in 1982, by the former Ministry of Natural Resources.

Nevertheless, when Alvarez made his decision, the Alcantaras talked to Acharon.

“We asked him to take a more active role,” Montemayor told The Times. “We said if the issue is resolved [in favor of the Alcantaras], we can go back to waive the rights to the 923 hectares.”

“We don’t want to block money,” Montemayor insists. “If the city government has a viable development plan, we will support it.”

Montemayor also scores the environment department’s inefficiency. When Gozun met last week in Davao with claimants to the land, the department’s regional deputy executive director called to ask for copies of the pasture lease, he said.

“He said they were looking for this agreement. Nawawala ang record sa region. They asked us for copies.”

Montemayor suspects the records were filched by parties concerned with the Alcantaras’ “legitimate” hold on the land. His comments indicate he suspects former city government officials, rather than lumad supporters, as the culprits.

(To be continued)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Sidebar to Part 2 | Conclusion

    
 
 
 

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Francis Andaya, Judee Perculeza, Marizhen Doctora, Shey Silayan
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