The Cordillera Review Volume 1 Issue 2

THE CORDILLERA REVIEW

Journa l of Philippine C ulture a nd Society

Volum e 1, Num b er 2 Sep tem b er 2009

Contents

RIKARDO SHEDDEN

Textiles that Wrap the Dead: Some Ritual

and Secular Uses of the Binaliwon Blanket

of Upland Kalinga, Northern Luzon / 3

LORELEI CRISOLOGO MENDOZA

Policy Innovations and Effective Local Management

of Forests in the Philippine Cordillera Region / 25

PADMAPANI L. PEREZ

Governing Indigenous People: Indigenous

Persons in Government Implementing the

Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act / 53

MA. THERESA R. MILALLOS & ROZEL BALMORES

Exploring the Capabilities of Selected Muslim

Women in Baguio City, Northern Philippines / 87

ERWIN S. FERNANDEZ

Exploring the Pangasinan-Cordillera Connection:

The Pangasinenses and the Ibalois / 119

E. SAN JUAN, JR.

Filipino Writers in the United States:

Toward a Contemporary Revaluation / 135

front pages 1-2.pmd

1

1/27/2010, 2:59 PM

THE CORDILLERA REVIEW

Journa l of Philippine Culture a nd Socie ty

BO ARD O F EDITORS

DELFIN TOLENTINO, JR., Editor-in-Chief

RAYMUNDO D. ROVILLOS

WILFREDO V. ALANGUI

MARIA NELA B. FLORENDO

PRISCILLA S. MACANSANTOS, Managing Editor

Cover: Mannulibao (solibao player) at the begnas ritual hosted by Dap-ay

Bilig in Sagada, Mountain Province, March 2008. Photograph by Roland

Rabang.

Cordillera Studies Center

UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES BAGUIO

UP Drive, 2600 Baguio City, Philippines

telefax: (6374) 442-5794

e-mail: csc@upb.edu.ph / cordillerastudies@gmail.com

website: www.upb.edu.ph/~csc

Copyright (c) 2009 by Cordillera Studies Center, University of the

Philippines Baguio

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored

in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,

electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the

written permission of the Publisher.

front pages 1-2.pmd

2

1/27/2010, 2:59 PM

Po licy Inno va tio ns a nd Effe c tive Ma na g e m e nt o f Fo re sts 25

Polic y Innova tions a nd Effe c tive Loc a l

Management of Forests in the Philippine

Cordillera Region

LORELEI CRISOLOGO MENDOZA

Unive rsity o f the Philip p ines Ba g uio

1. Introduction

With the passage of the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act of 1997, 1 the

tenurial rights of ancestral domains for indigenous peoples in the

Philippines are now a legal reality (Leonen 1998). While it is necessary

to recognize indigenous peoples’ land rights to achieve sustainable

forest management in the Cordillera Region of northern Luzon because

of the importance of property rights to convey authority and shape

incentives for the management of natural resources, as Meinzen-Dick

and Knox (2001, 49) assert, this would not be sufficient. Since

management technologies and practices affecting forests cover a larger

spatial scale and a longer time horizon, security of tenure is important.

However, collective action is also needed. Forests need to be protected

from fire or encroachment, maintained through replanting, and

monitored to prevent over-harvesting. For local users and communities

to participate in these activities, they must be assured that the benefits

will redound to them and their children, hence the importance of secure

tenure. But although collective action is reinforced by property rights,

more is required. Collective action prospers in an enabling environment

that in part consists of policies that create legal standing for organizations

at the community level which come into agreements with government

agencies (see Meinzen-Dick and Knox 2001). The enabling environment

for collective action will include local government support for user

groups, and decision making processes of national level agencies that

encourage and protect the community’s right to manage natural

resources.

This paper tackles some of the issues that have attended the long

and winding process through which the Philippine government

pursued, albeit reluctantly, a policy to decentralize natural resource

management to indigenous cultural communities in pursuit of

sustainable forest management in the Cordillera Region (see Rood and

Casambre 1994, Rood 1995, Mendoza and Prill-Brett 2004). These issues

mendoza 25-52.pmd

25

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM

26 The Cordillera Review

include the question of appropriate policies, the necessity of security of

tenure, and the viability of collective action.

We first discuss how the government’s decentralization policy for

forest management beginning in the 1970s affected the Cordillera Region.

We then turn our attention to how the indigenous property regimes

influence local management of forest resources since an important

consequence of indigenous land rights is the enabling of local collective

action particularly for forest management. Because economic changes

have steadily transformed local practices and customary norms, we

also discuss what effects these changes may have on the exercise of

local collective action. Finally, we assess the prospects for a comanagement

scheme for Cordillera forests as provided by the Joint

Administrative Order No. 1 of 2008 (referred to as Joint AO) 2 of the

Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) and the

National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) issued on July 8,

2008. The Joint AO, the most recent policy innovation with regard to

Cordillera forest management, expands the role of local users by

recognizing indigenous forest practices as well as socio-political

structures of the indigenous cultural communities in the management

of forest resources.

The Cordillera is a mountainous region with 60 percent of the

areas over 50 percent in slope. Thus less than 20 percent of land in the

region is alienable. Government policy states that “the Cordillera is the

watershed cradle of Northern Philippines and only developmental

activities consistent with the preservation or conservation role of the

region will be allowed and agricultural activities will be allowed

provided they do not encroach on critical watersheds and forest

reservations” (quoted in Rood 1994). Within this context, the sustainable

management of forests in the Cordillera is a central concern.

The Cordillera Studies Center (CSC), the research arm of the

University of the Philippines Baguio, has always had an interest in the

study of resource use. In particular, the Center has looked at the effects

of agricultural commercialization on highland communities (see Prill-

Brett et al. 1994) through three cycles of agro-ecosystems (AES) research

conducted in 1981-83, 1984-86, and 1987-89. 3 The CSC also pursued a

research program on Population, Resources and Environment (PRE) 4

in 1986 (Phase 1) and 1989 (Phase 2), which covered upland and

lowland communities to understand the effects of the dynamic

interaction among population, resources and environment on the quality

of life. Then, in 1992-94, the Center undertook a natural resources

management research program on indigenous practices and state policy

in the sustainable management of agricultural lands and forests in the

Cordillera (referred to as NRMP 1). This was followed by a research

program on ancestral domain and natural resource management in

mendoza 25-52.pmd

26

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Sagada, Mt. Province, Northern Philippines (referred to as NRMP 2 5 ),

conducted from 1997 to 2001.

This paper is an effort to synthesize the research findings,

particularly those of NRMP 1 6 and NRMP 2 7 , on local forest management.

NRMP 1 can be said to have focused on national law and policies on

land and resources and how these interacted with local practices in the

sustainable management of resources. This is the ‘policy’ focus of the

synthesis. On the other hand NRMP 2 enabled a better understanding

of the dynamics of collective action at the community level. This provides

the other focus of the synthesis. This synthesis provides the links among

the concerns which motivated the different research projects. It enables

a re-assessment of the research findings obtained over a decade of

primary data collection through community studies. Overall, it hopes

to enrich our understanding of the issues of sustainable forest

management in the Cordillera.

2. Decentralization or Restitution?

The shift of the state’s authority and responsibility for resource

management to non-governmental bodies can take various forms.

Meinzen-Dick and Knox (2001, 41-42) describe devolution as one of the

forms in which a transfer of rights and responsibilities from the central

or national government agency to local institutions can take place. The

other forms are deconcentration, decentralization, and privatization.

Deconcentration and decentralization transfer authority to lower levels

of government while devolution and privatization transfer authority to

non-governmental institutions. The former is called vertical subsidiarity,

the latter horizontal subsidiarity. Both are expressions of the principle

of subsidiarity which is to devolve decision making to the lowest

appropriate level. In the categories of Larson (2004, 3) vertical

subsidiarity takes the form of administrative or political decentralization

where an official transfer of power takes place from the central

government to lower levels in an administrative or political hierarchy,

respectively.

Deconcentration is administrative decentralization of

responsibility from the national department to its regional and

provincial offices whereby the national office retains authority, and

accountability is ultimately to the national government. Decentralization

would make authority remain with government even when a stronger

role is given to local government units which are seen as more

accountable to the local communities. Both forms of decentralization

have taken place for forest management in the country.

Devolution would involve the transfer of rights and

responsibilities to user groups at the local level. Control by user

mendoza 25-52.pmd

27

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


groups over forests would be more congruent with the practice of

several Cordillera groups (see Corpuz-Diaz 1994, Cabalfin 2001, Cruz

2001, San Luis 2001) and this local control is what the Joint AO

endeavors to recognize and promote. Privatization, which includes

only the transfer of rights and responsibility to non-profit

organizations and for-profit firms, is not an applicable alternative

among Cordillera communities.

Decentralization in Forest Management

During the 1970s in response to dwindling forests, rural insurgency

and national and international concern for deforestation rates, peopleoriented

forestry programs were undertaken in the country (O’Hara

2006, Lindayati 2000). The 1975 Forestry Reform Code marked this

regulatory shift because for the first time, there were provisions to improve

the security of tenure of occupants of public lands (Lindayati 2000, 5).

The Forest Occupancy Management (FOM) launched in 1975 issued

renewable land occupancy permits. The Communal Tree Farming (CTF)

begun in 1978 was intended to establish tree farms or plantations

through the cooperation of government, local communities and the

private sector. Later the Family Approach to Reforestation (FAR) was

added to establish tree plantations on public land based on short term

contracts with participating families. All three programs aimed to

involve local people in reforestation activities (O’Hara 2006, 255) and

give eligible farmers limited tenurial security (Lindayati 2000, 6). It would

take over two decades before the DENR confronted the other issue in

forest management which is the grant of security of tenure to forest

inhabitants and to indigenous peoples in particular.

In 1982, all three earlier programs were consolidated into the

Integrated Social Forestry Program (ISFP). Through Certificates for

Stewardship which were renewable after 25 years, individual farmers

were given rights, together with training and technical assistance, to

farm the forest land and undertake agro-forestry activities. In particular,

farmers were encouraged to plant trees on at least 20 percent of occupied

lands (Lindayati 2000, 6). Later, the Community Forest Management

Agreement (CFMA) gave residents a long-term management contract

for the utilization of natural forests. CFMAs were issued by the

Community Forestry Program (CFP) created in 1987. A communitybased

forest management agreement (CBFMA) is a 25-year productionsharing

arrangement entered into by a community and the government,

to develop, utilize, manage and conserve a specific portion of forest

land (IIRR, LGSP, SANREM CRSP/Southeast Asia 2001, 102).

By the 1990s the impetus for decentralization of forest management

did not only come from the DENR, it also came from the passage of the

mendoza 25-52.pmd

28

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Local Government Code (LGC) or Republic Act No. 7160 of 1991.

Through the LGC, political decentralization in the Philippines was

supposed to have taken place because the Code transferred substantial

powers, functions and responsibilities from the national government to

local government units (LGUs). The delivery of various aspects of basic

services that used to be the responsibility of the national government

was now devolved to the LGUs. Among these are community-based

forestry, projects on agricultural extension and on-site research, and

tourism facilities.

Manasan (2001) described the transfer of functions under the LGC

as substantial not only in terms of the sheer number of functions but

more so in terms of number of personnel transferred. The dramatic

exception to this was the devolution of environment and natural

resources (ENR) management. Take the first indicator of the ratio of

devolved personnel to pre-1991 devolution. The value for DENR was

the lowest at 4.2 percent. This is really miniscule when compared to

that of the Department of Agriculture (DA) at 59.6 percent, the

Department of Budget and Management (DBM) at 46.7 percent, the

Department of Health (DOH) at 61.3 percent, the Department of Social

Welfare and Development (DSWD) at 59.7 percent and other Executive

Offices at 13.1 percent (see Table 1 of Manasan 2002, 36). A second

indicator is the ratio of the devolved budget to pre-1991 budget for ENR

management. The value for DENR was only 8.6 percent. All other

agencies had double digit percentages with DA at 20.2 percent, DBM at

37.1 percent, DOH at 38.5 percent, DSWD at 65.6 percent (see Table 2 of

Manasan 2002, 36). In Manasan’s reading of the Code, there was a

transfer of responsibility over community-based forest and watershed

projects to Local Government Units (LGUs), but the Code allowed the

DENR to retain supervision and control over the same projects. Thus,

Manasan concluded that “local autonomy in ENR management is at

best limited and at worst ambiguous” (2002, 42).

In 1991, DENR issued Administrative Order 24 which provided

… the shift in logging from old growth or virgin forest to second

or residual forest and prohibited logging on virgin forests… and

also on areas with slope of 50% and above, areas above 1,000

meters in elevation (emphasis provided), within 20 meters of

either side of a stream bank, wilderness areas, proclaimed

watershed reservation, in areas identified with historical values

and other areas proclaimed for ecological and environmental

protection (Tacloy 2000, 29).

Beginning January 1991 timber harvesting was prohibited over much

of the Cordillera region where land has slope of 50% and above and

areas are above 1,000 meters in elevation.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

29

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


The formal shift in forest policy from resource extraction and export

in favor of community-based forest management (CBFM) only took place

in the mid-1990s. This shift was institutionalized by the issuance in

1995 of Executive Order No. 263 by President Fidel Ramos. The Executive

Order adopted CBFM as the national strategy in managing the country’s

forest resources (La Viña n.d., 3). Thus, in 1995, all previous community

forestry initiatives were put under the Community-Based Forest

Management (CBFM) program of the DENR. The CBFM focused on

organizing communities and providing alternative livelihood strategies

so that the pressure would be taken off the natural forest. Under this

program, utilization rights for wood products were granted (O’Hara

2006, 256).

One could argue that when the economic returns from the

utilization of timber became unattractive for the state, the national

government became more than willing to surrender its management of

forest resources to local communities. The motive for the decentralization

policy for forest management in the 1990s was not so much the wisdom

of involving local communities in forest management as it was the loss

in the incentive for the national government to keep control of the forests

and its resources.

Lindayati (2000, 7) notes that indigenous groups generally did not

apply to the people-oriented forestry programs described earlier because

they believed this would only legitimize government claim over the

area. This observation finds empirical support in the findings reported

by NRMP 1. Communities in Benguet and the Mountain Province were

not major sites for community forestry initiatives like the ISFP which

was introduced in the early 1980s (see Bautista 1994). Among the six

community research sites of NRMP 1, only Barangay Ambassador in

the municipality of Tublay, Benguet and Barangay Suyo in Sagada,

Mountain Province reported that ISFP activities were undertaken in the

1980s. In fact, no participants of this program could be located during

the period of field research in 1992-1993. Bautista (1994) concluded

that community contact with DENR programs and personnel was

minimal. However, people were aware of certain DENR programs. For

example, based on a 1993 survey determining people’s awareness of

DENR activities (see Bautista 1994), people knew more about the

program of contract reforestation than about ISFP.

Even if the country’s land laws designated the national government

as the authority over forest resources with the collective choice rights of

management and exclusion, such rights were not effectively discharged

particularly against the exercise of local residents of access and

withdrawal from forest reserves and/or national parks. Members of

Cordillera communities did not appear insecure over the absence of

land titles to farm and forest lands which they utilized. Respondents to

the community surveys conducted by NRMP 1 in 1991 overwhelmingly

mendoza 25-52.pmd

30

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


stated that they thought it unlikely that the government would get their

lands and enforce the policy of treating these lands as forest reserves.

They were confident that such would not happen since they had “taxdeclared”

these lands and they took care of them (Rood 1995, 9). These

research findings lend credence to the assertion that the state

management of forests in the Cordillera region is a myth. The national

government, through its departments/ministries and their regional and

provincial offices, was unable to exclude other users and claimants of

forest resources in the Cordillera. 8 There is no centralized forest

management scheme to decentralize.

Recognizing Ancestral Land Rights

Effective forest management in the Cordillera did not really hinge on

decentralization to the local level as the previous discussion showed.

Instead, what was necessary was an incentive for local users to manage

forest resources. Such an incentive would arise if the indigenous property

rights systems were recognized by the state. Thus, there was a more

fundamental need to respond to the clamor of local communities for the

state to recognize indigenous peoples’ land rights. Was it not in fact a

grave error in government policy to declare the Central Cordillera and

other mountain regions as public land or forest reserves and national

parks? Was it not simple-minded to expect that these areas would not

be utilized by local communities which have resided in these territories

long before the Philippine national government could claim to have

existed? In other words, as many advocates passionately argued, the

more pressing issue regarding forest management was not

decentralization but restitution—“the restitution of the role of

community management previously appropriated by the State” (Ngaido

and Kirk 2001, 163). Restitution required that government recognize

the rights of indigenous cultural communities to their land and its

resources.

On January 15, 1993, the government commenced the process to

grant recognition to ancestral land rights when DENR issued

Administrative Order No. 2 on Rules and Regulations for the

Identification and Recognition of Ancestral Land and Domain Claims.

DAO 2, as it was referred to,

… was a policy to preserve and maintain the integrity of ancestral

domains and ensure recognition of the customs and traditions of

the indigenous cultural communities… [and] to identify and

delineate ancestral domain and land claims, certify them as such,

and formulate strategies for effective management.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

31

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


DAO 2 was viewed as an achievement resolving decades of policy

conflicts in relation to land use and control (NRMP 2 Research Proposal

1996, 2-3).

A certificate was issued for an ancestral domain claim 9 or a CADC,

which is distinct from a certificate of ancestral land 10 claim or CALC.

Both ancestral domain and ancestral land rights are established through

customary law, defined by DAO 2 as a “body of rules, usages, customs,

practices traditionally observed, accepted and recognized by the

indigenous cultural communities.” By 2000, the DENR had issued 59

CALCs—five in Benguet, 52 in Ifugao, and one each for Kalinga and Mt.

Province. A total of 24 CADCs in five provinces of the Cordillera had

been awarded by 2000 (see Table 1).

When the Philippine Congress passed the Indigenous Peoples’

Rights Act (IPRA) of 1997 or Republic Act 8371, the responsibility and

task of recognizing indigenous peoples’ land rights which commenced

with DAO 2 of the DENR was transferred to the newly created National

Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP). Section 38 of the Republic

Act states that

... to carry out the policies herein set forth, there shall be created

a National Commission on Indigenous Cultural Communities

(ICCs) or Indigenous Peoples (IPs)–NCIP - which shall be the

primary government agency responsible for the formulation and

implementation of policies, plans and programs to promote and

protect the rights and well-being of the ICCs/IPs and the

recognition of their ancestral domains as well as their rights

thereto.

One of the powers and functions of the NCIP is to issue the

Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT and/or the Certificate of

Ancestral Land Title (CALT) under Section 44 (e). The communities

which were awarded CADCs were given the right to apply for a certificate

of ancestral domain title under Section 52 (a) of the IPRA and further

clarified through Administrative Order 2 of 2002 issued by the NCIP.

While the CADC required the drawing up of the Ancestral Domain

Management Plan (ADMP), the CADT required the drawing up of the

Ancestral Domain Sustainable Development and Protection Plan

(ADSDPP). The first Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title which was

given to Bakun, Benguet on July 20, 2002 resulted from the conversion

of the CADC issued to Bakun on March 13, 1998 by the DENR following

DAO 2 of 1993.

That the passage of the IPRA is a milestone in legislation promoting

the rights and welfare of indigenous peoples is something few will

debate. However, it is worthwhile to keep in mind the observation of

Leonen (1998) that

mendoza 25-52.pmd

32

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


M u n ic ip a lity

CADC

No.

Ethnolinguistic

group

Area in

hectares

Date

aw arded

A B R A 85,350

M alibco ng 035

B o lin ey 147

G u bang, M abaca,

& B anao

B alactoc,

B elw ang, &

M asad iit

30,579

28,425

Sallap ad an 148 M asad iit & B anao 11,245

B u clo c 149 M asad iit 5,000

D ag u iom an 174 B anao 10,100

3/04/96

5/26/98

5/26/98

5/26/98

6/03/98

A P A Y A O 100,680

K ab u ga o 077 Isneg 83,900

3/12/97

K atab lag an ,

C on n er

078 Isneg 16,780

3/12/97

B E N G U E T 150,720

K ab ay an 037

Ibaloi.

K alangu ya,

& K ankana-ey

27,252

K ib u ng an 071 K ankana-ey 26,353

B u g u ias 072

L u so d ,

A m basa

D o m o lp os 088

B aku n 120

B o k od 150

K alangu ya &

K ankana-ey

18,185

087 Ibaloi 1,479

T ow ak &

K alangu ya

B ago &

K ankana-ey

Ibaloi. K arao,

K alangu ya

5,159

29,346

42,946

A to k Ibaloi 16,709

IFU G A O 48,206

T in o c 036 K alangu ya 27,767

K ian g an 046 K iangan 20,419

3/04/96

12/24/96

12/24/96

7/15/97

7/15/97

3/13/98

6/03/98

Target

com p letion:

1998

3/04/96

5/02/96

K A L IN G A 118,767

T a nu d an 030 K alinga 40,762

T in g layan 128 K alinga 22,975

B albalan 116 K alinga 55,030

M T .

P R O V IN C E 74,643

Sagad a 038 K ankana-ey 8,698

B e sao 039 K ankana-ey 17,361

T a d ian 040 K ankana-ey 14,258

2/12/96

6/05/98

2/02/97

3/04/96

3/15/96

3/15/96

B arlig 041

B alangao &

K ad aclan

34,325

3/15/96

C A R 578,366

Table 1. Distribution of CADCs issued by DENR for the Cordillera

Region by 2000. Source: Philippine Economic-Environmental and

Natural Resources Accounting. Data Bulletin on Land and Soils

(Preliminary), 2000, pp. 64-65.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

33

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Since Indigenous People’s concerns have been closely linked with

well-funded ecological concerns, it is no wonder therefore that

there has been an unfortunate prevailing view that their rights

should be recognized only because they would be better ecological

managers (p. 31).

The recognition of indigenous peoples’ rights is an aspect of

human rights advocacy more than simply an environmental

concern. The provisions (of the IPRA) clearly reflect how much

the environmental agenda has taken over the need to correct

historical and social injustices (p. 33).

Although this paper focuses on the importance of recognizing the

right of indigenous peoples to their ancestral domain and ancestral

lands as fundamental to security of tenure which provides the incentives

for communities to engage in local collective action necessary for

sustainable forest management, we agree with Leonen that the

recognition of indigenous peoples’ rights is more importantly about

restitution. The state, through IPRA, returns to local communities of the

Cordillera a right which was taken away from them by state land laws.

3. The Ili 11 and Indigenous Property Regimes

DAO 2 was the policy context when NRMP 2 was undertaken by the

Cordillera Studies Center. Using techniques of participatory action

research, the project worked with three of the nine ilis of Sagada. These

were Fidelisan, Demang, and Ankileng from the northern, central, and

southern agro-ecological zones of the municipality, respectively.

The municipality 12 was the recipient of the CADC and would have

normally drawn up the ancestral domain management plan (ADMP)

as required by Article VI, Section 3 of DAO 2. However, the municipality,

which is a politico-administrative subdivision of the national

governmental system, is not coincident with the village or ili. The ili is

an autonomous socio-political unit, which traditionally controls its own

decision making through the council of elders regarding village welfare

and the control of common property resources (Prill-Brett 2001, 7). The

research produced three management plans for the ancestral domains

of Fidelisan Ili, Central Sagada Ili and Barangay Ankileng. In so doing,

it was able to demonstrate as it intended that the village or ili was the

practical planning and implementation unit for a natural resource

management plan.

The participatory mapping of the ancestral domain of Fidelisan,

Demang and Ankileng was undertaken in November 1998. The process

continued through a series of community workshops in 1999 and 2000.

Mapping activities were undertaken by ili members using extant base

mendoza 25-52.pmd

34

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


maps and technical support from a partner agency (Environmental

Science for Social Change). In several community meetings, dap-ay elders,

membantays (administrators of clan forests or sagudays 13 ), barangay

officials and other villagers confirmed and corrected these maps to

identify the ilis. They also enriched these maps by identifying cultural

landmarks, locating resources such as forests, rivers, and water sources;

providing place names; and delineating traditional boundaries. The ili

maps were also important inputs in the preparation of the ADMP as

these identified the traditional village settlement. In addition, they helped

delineate areas of resource degradation and the stakeholders’ interest

in resources.

The NRMP 2 research activities confirmed that the ili is the locus

of institutionalized control and regulation of practices in resource access

as asserted by Prill-Brett (2001). Because the research project chose to

work with the indigenous socio-political structures of the ili in all the

activities which led to the development of the management plan, several

customary rules on resource management were recorded and confirmed

(though not in all cases).

An example is the use of lumber from trees grown in communal

forests by members of the ili of Fidelisan as described by San Luis (2001,

63-64):

An ili member can get lumber from communal forests after

submitting the quantity of lumber needed to the barangay council.

The officials concerned assess whether the request is appropriate.

The applicant is given a certificate allowing the felling of 3 to 5

trees at a time and only for internal and not for commercial

purposes. The officials are obliged to inspect and mark the trees

that are felled. The use of a chainsaw to cut lumber is prohibited

except when the position and location of a tree does not allow the

use of a two-man saw.

Logging is strictly prohibited on designated watershed areas (even

if privately-owned by clans, families or wards) and on areas

overshadowing the ili. Those apprehended selling or transporting

lumber outside the village would be fined with an amount

equivalent to the monetary value of the lumber.

A women’s group called Ladies of Aguid and Pide for

Environmental Development takes care of monitoring the exit of

lumber outside the community. Their members act as guards,

manning exit points of the village.

Clear rules also cover the access to lumber in clan-owned forests

as narrated by Cruz (2001) in the management of clan-owned forests or

sagudays in Demang. In this case, the saguday member requiring lumber

seeks the permission of the administrator of the clan forest or membantay.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

35

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Some individuals first ‘survey’ the different saguday to which

they have access and then they approach the membantay where the

best trees for housing are found. The latter determines the number

of trees to be cut and points out the best places to get the required

lumber. Although the membantay has the final word with regards

to which part of the saguday to cut trees from, the requesting

party could negotiate and compromise with the membantay (p.

39).

By choosing the village or ili as the appropriate planning unit, the

NRMP 2 research was able to demonstrate, among other things, the

critical role that the rules and regulations of indigenous property regimes

played in the sustainable management of forest resources in the research

sites.

4. Collective Action, Norms and Economic Changes

In this process of devolution in natural resource management whereby

“user groups will take on roles formerly assigned to the state,” some

form of collective action is necessary. The collective action may be to

coordinate individuals’ activities, develop rules for resource use,

monitor compliance with rules and sanction violators, and mobilize

the necessary cash, labor or material resources (Meinzen-Dick and Knox

2001, 45-46).

Collective action may be enabled by a strong sense of community

often found in traditional communities. Here, resource users follow the

rules of use and access to forests defined by their indigenous property

regimes. Rules are enforced and violators are sanctioned. The actions of

individuals are easily observed by others in the traditional ili. Individual

behavior is governed by the values of reciprocity, solidarity and social

pressure based on common norms and values.

Customary Norms

Collective action based on customary norms has been observed in several

of the ‘traditional’ communities of the Cordillera. The examples from

the community studies of Fidelisan and Demang in the previous section

attest to this. Also, the collective action is enhanced if local users find

support from their local governments. Customary norms that regulate

the utilization of forest products can be reinforced through ordinances

passed by the barangay or municipal government. This is the case in

Barangay Ankileng, where the support of Barangay Ordinances to

mendoza 25-52.pmd

36

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


enforce customary rules regarding forest management was reported by

Cabalfin (2001, 16-17):

The Barangay Ordinance No. 10, series of 1997 made the prevention

of forest fires the task of every community member. Another

ordinance rewards a forest guard (chosen by the barangay council

in consultation with the members of the dap-ay) who catches a

person who cuts trees without a permit or one who causes wild

fires.

Collective action has also been confirmed in communities that have

always exercised their management prerogatives over their forests as in

the forests of Patay, Sagada (see Diaz 1994). Patay is one of the NRMP 1

research sites. The community study described the modus vivendi

between the community and the DENR since the early 1980s whereby

the community, not the DENR, regulates its members’ use of the forests

following the rules of their indigenous property regimes as long as the

forest products do not leave the geographical territory of the municipality

(or the barangay) where the forest is located. State rules are enforced by

the DENR only when these forest products leave the community’s

boundaries.

That the pine stands of the municipality of Sagada are mainly

artificially established is also the assertion of Tacloy (2001, 2) who

studied the forestry practices in Sagada. He reported about how

customary norms 14 coordinate community members’ action in times of

forest fires:

In case of fire, the villagers are mobilized automatically to help

in fire suppression, especially if it threatens other properties such

as granaries and houses.

The respondents reported, however, that this spirit has

significantly diminished. Forest fires in the communal forest are

most likely ignored by the villagers when no important properties

are threatened.

Some respondents commented: ‘let the DENR come and suppress

the forest fires because they prohibit us to cut trees under our

community rules’ (Tacloy 2001, 5).

If there are communities where collective action for natural resource

management exists supported by customary norms and indigenous

property systems, there are also communities where little or none of

these institutions exist. This is the lesson from the community studies

of NRMP 1. In traditional communities, both property rights and

collective action support the community’s forest resources management

practices. Hence, the forest resources are utilized in a sustainable

mendoza 25-52.pmd

37

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


manner, protected and conserved. In these communities, devolution of

authority and responsibility over forests from the central government to

user groups has a chance to succeed.

Unfortunately, the above assertion will not hold true for

communities where the property regimes over forest lands is open access,

usually because the settlements were established recently through

internal migration in the Cordillera. Let us take the example of Mount

Data where the forest has been treated as open-access by in-migrants

from elsewhere in the Cordillera and there are no community norms to

penalize over-exploitation (Rood 1995, 11-12). Resources at the Mount

Data Plateau are deteriorating at a rapid rate—roughly two percent of

the original forest is left—and the settlements seem to have no norms to

stop this process (Rood 1995). The probability for collective action to

emerge is low because it implies a conscious working together. Collective

action is something that is not often observed among migrant

communities because there is no sense of community or collective identity

among resident households.

The same pattern of outcomes is also reported as taking place at

the Mount Pulag National Park 15 by Batcagan (2007). A new road, from

Ballay to Tawangan, 16 as well as the availability of irrigation have made

vegetable gardening an attractive source of cash income to subsistence

farmers here. Pine and mossy forests have been cleared to give way to

vegetable gardens (Batcagan 2007, 61). The pattern of agricultural

transformation that took place at Mount Data where formerly subsistence

farmers have shifted to vegetable gardening has also taken place at the

Mount Pulag National Park.

Economic Changes

Even in traditional communities the incentives for local users to manage

forest resources may be altered or even diminished because of economic

changes. Let us discuss a few of these economic changes that have

occurred in the Cordillera Region: the commercialization of agriculture,

the establishment of non-farm livelihoods, and the opportunity to be

employed overseas.

Insights on the effect of the commercialization of agriculture on

forests can be obtained from the agro-ecosystem researches of the CSC

in the 1980s. Agro-ecosystem research is undertaken primarily to clarify

the relationships among the biophysical and socio-cultural elements in

rural communities as these undergo change from subsistence agriculture

to commercial cropping. The human-environment interaction is studied

from the point of view of the household. The farming household views

the forests as part of a portfolio of resources and livelihood activities

mendoza 25-52.pmd

38

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


alongside farming (subsistence and/or commercial), animal husbandry,

etc.

The community studies undertaken from 1987 to 1990 highlight

how the farming households are experiencing a rise in their cash

requirements because of their aspiration for children to be better

educated, their desire for consumer goods and appliances, and the need

to purchase agricultural inputs. How farmers respond to market

opportunities and cope with their cash needs have important

implications on the upland environment and thereby on the interaction

between agricultural change and forest conversion.

The research concluded that “agricultural expansion stimulated

by commercialization, inevitably has a negative effect on the preservation

of forest” (Prill-Brett et al. 1994, 36). Therefore, programs intended to

intensify or expand agricultural production in Cordillera communities

must take into consideration their potential impact on forest conversion.

More importantly, Cordillera forest conservation cannot be pursued

successfully without consideration of how forests and their products

are utilized within the farming systems of households and communities.

The study warns that projects narrowly focused on achieving the

department or ministry’s agenda, i.e., Department of Agriculture for

agricultural productivity, DENR for reforestation or community-based

forestry and conservation, especially because they are independently

pursued, do not lead to appropriate outcomes.

The emergence of non-farm livelihoods like those related to the

growth of tourism may also alter the local community’s use of forest

resources. In the municipality of Sagada, the pine forests are a major

reason for its being a top tourist destination in the Cordillera Region. In

this community of 12,300 people (in 2007), the monthly total of local

and foreign visitors comprise from a quarter to a third of its local

residents 17 making tourism a significant economic activity in the locality.

Therefore, one can argue that the incentive to preserve and conserve

the pine forests has increased with the growth of tourism here. On the

other hand, Cruz (2001, 42) would contend that “the increasingly

important role played by tourism in the Central Sagada economy could

also lead to higher rates of forest extraction as tourist inns and hostels

get renovated and new ones established.”

The last among the sources of economic changes is overseas

employment. This has not bypassed the Cordillera Region given that

the Philippines registered one of the highest numbers of overseas

contract workers in the world today. The 2004 Survey on Overseas

Filipinos 18 shows that in October 2004, there were 1.06 million overseas

Filipino workers (OFWs), of which 820 thousand worked in Asia, 108

thousand in Europe, and 95 thousand in North and South America.

Although the Cordillera Region ranked only 14th out of 17 regions in

mendoza 25-52.pmd

39

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


the Philippines, it registered 24 thousand OFWs. Of this total, threefourths

were female (18,000).

Overseas Filipino workers remit money to their families. Through

this income source, houses are built or renovated, consumer goods are

purchased, e.g., cars, motorcycles, appliances, and productive tools like

farming implements are bought. This source of cash income reshape

livelihood strategies as McKay and Brady (2005) assert. Money is used

to plant a commercial crop or to establish small enterprises, or invested

in the education of the young. In Asipulo, Ifugao, remittances are

invested to change subsistence agricultural systems to less sustainable

cash crops, replacing pond field rice with input-intensive vegetable

crops and abandoning upland shifting cultivation fields (McKay and

Brady, 2005, 93). Changes in livelihoods also come about not only due

to the entry of cash income but also through the loss of labor hands.

Family labor decreases because members now work overseas or go off to

study in the city or urban center. The absence of women can increase

the work load of husbands.

The effect of overseas contract work on collective action and thereby

on forest resource management still has to be systematically studied.

Part of what needs to be established is whether overseas employment in

some households will lead to an increase or decrease in the importance

that these households give to conserving forest resources. Let us recall

that the value of forest resources is in some way linked to the value of

farming as a livelihood. Also, we have to determine whether this

valuation will differ from the way that the other households without

family members in overseas work will value the forest resources. In

other words, will the community still be of one heart and one voice

about the way to manage forest resources in the locality? To the extent

that consensus breaks down, or norms are weakened with the differing

interests of households, collective action will become more difficult. In

the words of Bardhan and Dayton-Johnson 19 (2001, 2) social

heterogeneity can “weaken social norms and sanctions to enforce

cooperative behavior and collective agreements.”

In addition to social heterogeneity, there is economic heterogeneity.

The latter can take the form of an unequal distribution of income and/

or wealth which reduces the incentive to cooperate and thereby

negatively affect collective action. Economic changes like

commercialization of agriculture, the growth of non-farm employment

like tourism-related activities, and the opportunity for overseas

employment are expected to bring about not only social but also

economic heterogeneity among households in Cordillera communities.

Heterogeneity, when it arises, will adversely affect local collective action.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

40

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


5. Co-management of Forest Resources in the Cordillera

The Joint AO is the latest among the policy initiatives in the forest

management policy of the national government. It transfers some

authority and responsibility for natural resource management,

specifically over forest resources, from the central government to user

groups in indigenous cultural communities. More importantly, it confers

legal standing to indigenous socio-political structures like the Council

of Elders or Leaders, assigning them roles and responsibilities in forest

management.

The issuance of the Joint AO has moved the pendulum of forest

policy to the position where forest inhabitants are perceived as ‘partners’

in forest conservation rather than as ‘enemies’ of forest protection and

‘culprits’ of forest degradation. What new initiative with regard to forest

management is made possible with the issuance of the Joint AO? To

answer this question, we need to take a closer look at the provisions of

the Joint AO.

The Joint AO sets the guidelines and procedures for the DENR and

NCIP (under Section 2.1) to undertake the recognition, documentation,

registration and confirmation of traditional and indigenous forest

resources management systems and practices found to be sustainable

in the forest and watershed areas within the ancestral domain or

ancestral land of the concerned indigenous cultural community or

indigenous peoples. These will be referred to as Sustainable Traditional

and Indigenous Forest Resources Management Systems and Practices

or STIFRMSP. In the Cordillera, the traditional forest management

practices include the muyong system of Ifugao which was earlier

recognized through DENR Administrative Order 96-02 and 96-10, the

tayan and batangan of Mountain Province, the ginubat of Kalinga, and

the lapat system of Abra and Apayao. There is formal recognition of

customary laws and the role of indigenous knowledge systems and

practices (see Section 2.1) as well as the role of indigenous socio-political

institutions (see Section 5.3). The recognition of customary tenure systems

restores local control over resource use and management (see Ngaido

and Kirk 1999).

A Joint Confirmation and Recognition Order (JCRO) shall be issued

by the Regional Directors of DENR and NCIP after appropriate

documentation and verification that such STIFRMSP promotes and

practices forest and biodiversity conservation, forest protection and

sensible utilization of the resources found therein based on existing

customary laws. The STIFRMSP must be duly endorsed by the concerned

Local Government Units through resolution or ordinance (see Section

6).

Roles and responsibilities are assigned to the DENR in Section 5.1

and to the NCIP in Section 5.2 as well as to the Indigenous Socio-Political

mendoza 25-52.pmd

41

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Structures such as the Council of Elders or Council of Leaders in Section

5.3. Specifically, the Council of Elders/Leaders are tasked to

(a) Formalize the traditional leadership system pursuant to

customary laws and practices in managing forestlands and

the forest resources found therein;

(b) Take the lead role in resolving conflicts/disputes in accordance

with their customs and traditions on consensus building

within their domain;

(c) Initiate and approve the participatory formulation of

community policies relative to the effective management and

conservation of forest resources, including the

recommendation for the establishment of community/village

forests within their territory;

(d) Activate its authority within the community for the

implementation of cultural governance towards effective

sustainable forest conservation and management;

(e) Actively support and participate with the DENR, the NCIP

and all the LGUs concerned in the preparation and forging of

a MOA for the effective implementation of this Order.

Registration of the STIFRMSP shall be issued with a Joint

Implementing Rules and Regulations jointly approved by the DENR,

the NCIP, the concerned LGU and the head or duly authorized

representative of the concerned ICC/IP. Section 10 specifies that the

resource management within the registered STIFRMSP adhere to the

established traditional leadership structure and practices. In particular

a resource management plan will be prepared including collective

agreements and commitments for natural resource protection and

utilization.

In effect, this framework as described sets up a co-management

governance mechanism for forests in the Cordillera. Co-management

was recommended by NRMP 2 partly because new mechanisms were

sought by community members in partnership with government and/

or agencies to deal with new needs. For example, people requested for

assistance for water impounding projects and water harvesting

techniques. Thus, it was proposed that there should be

… agreements on governance procedures for forest management,

between the DENR and the ili/community; between politicoadministrative

units and socio-cultural settlements, i.e.,

barangays, municipality and the ili; among households, kinship

groups and dap-ays/wards; among competing resource user

mendoza 25-52.pmd

42

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


groups; among government agencies, non-government

organizations and community groups.

This idea is similar to that stated in Section 2.2 as a specific objective:

To institutionalize the consultative, collaborative effort and

consensus building processes between and among indigenous

socio-political institutions including its leadership system, local

government units (LGUs), the DENR, the NCIP and other

concerned agencies/offices/organizations for the enhancement

of appropriate indigenous practices of forest resources

management as a mechanism to be effected in the community as

a whole.

There are other provisions of the Joint AO which echo and coincide

with some recommendations based on the research findings of NRMP 2

(see Mendoza 2006). For example, NRMP 2 used the ili as the Ancestral

Domain Unit to produce its Management Plan. Three such plans were

completed for Fidelisan Ili, Central Sagada Ili and Barangay Ankileng

of Sagada, Mountain Province.

Section 8 of the Joint AO states that:

The documentation process shall focus NOT (emphasis provided)

on specific barangay levels but on traditional domain

management unit/s as a whole and should capture the integrative

landscape/ nature of the domain.

Section 12.2 also makes reference to village and not only

municipality:

There shall be organized a local management group to be handled

by the Environment and Natural Resources Council (ENRC) at

the village or municipal level… (emphasis provided)

Another was a recommendation to acknowledge the dynamism

and evolution of traditional practices and indigenous knowledge

(Mendoza 2006, 8). The Joint AO tasks the DENR to identify and

recommend enabling systems/schemes to promote indigenous

knowledge/practices as an alternative approach and/or management

tool in forest ecosystem management in Section 5.1 (e).

From this initial reading of the Joint AO, there is basis to conclude

that the current policy framework which recognizes indigenous forest

management practices and formally recognizes the indigenous sociopolitical

structures will thereby enable the local users and indigenous

cultural communities to become partners in the management of forest

resources in the Cordillera. However, the optimism for this improved

governance framework for forest management must be tempered by a

mendoza 25-52.pmd

43

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


realization that there are a few key elements that were missed. Let us

now turn to them.

First, the Joint AO could have been more specific about how the

recognition of STIFRMSP can enable or lead to the “federating” of

resource management units or ancestral domain management units

into broader coalitions for environmental sustainability, even if initially,

this will only cover forest resources.

An important outcome of the mapping exercises of NRMP 2 was

the identification of common areas located within the ancestral domain

of ilis that were shared with other communities located in neighboring

municipalities and/or provinces. There were common pasture grounds,

hunting grounds, and forests. An early recommendation by the NRMP

2 research team was to pay attention to mechanisms that allow

‘managers’ of neighboring ancestral domains to negotiate how to utilize

the resources located in these common and shared areas.

Second, that the Joint AO mandates another round of

documentation, registration and confirmation towards recognition of

STIFRMSP in addition to the processes that accompany the drawing up

of ADSDPP under IPRA or ADMP under DAO 2 seem like so much

bureaucratic paper work. Hopefully, the Implementing Rules and

Regulations being sought by the Regional Development Council of the

Cordillera Region for the implementation of the Joint AO (reported by

Dexter See in the Baguio Midland Courier, March 22, 2009) will precisely

ease this requirement.

Third, the initiatives of local users, though now encouraged, will

still be dictated by the terms set for the registration of an STIFRMSP as

enumerated in Section 9. We quote below four of the six provisions:

(1) The existing Indigenous Forest Resources Management

Systems/ Practices are promoting forest conservation,

protection, utilization and biodiversity conservation;

(2) The basis of the indigenous forest resources management

practices shall focus on the maintenance of the watershed

system necessary to sustain/maintain the protective and

productive functions of the forest (emphasis provided)

through indigenous knowledge approach/practices which will

enhance soil and water conservation and biodiversity;

(3) The presence of customary laws, if verified to be within the

framework of sustainable forest resources management

(emphasis provided), which may be written or unwritten

rules, regulations, usages, customs and practices traditionally

observed, accepted and recognized by the respective ICCs/

IPs in the management of forest resources;

mendoza 25-52.pmd

44

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


(6) The current indigenous forest resources management

systems/practices can be harmonized with current ENR laws,

rules and regulations (emphasis provided).

As Sundar (2000, 276) would argue, the terms are dictated by the

overall framework of targets and activities prescribed by government

rules. However, the participation by villagers or forest users should not

be limited to small-scale sectoral units but should also be enabled in

bodies which influence the entire direction of the political process.

6. Conclusion

Co-management schemes to control forest resources may take a number

of forms. Agrawal and Ostrom (1999) described two cases—the Forest

Councils of Kumaon in India and the Parks and People Project in Nepal.

In India, forest councils formally manage and control about a quarter of

the forests in three districts of Kumaon. The Forest Council Rules of

1931, amended in 1976, defined the limits of local autonomy: Villagers

cannot clear the forest, they cannot impose fines beyond the specified

amount, they can raise revenues through certain limited sources, and

they must take recourse to established legal procedures to resolve

conflicts (Agrawal and Ostrom 1999, 28). Councils meet frequently to

set up rules regarding withdrawal of forest products, monitor the

enforcement of rules and sanction violators. Officials of the Revenue

department and the Forest department perform specific functions in the

operations of these elected forest councils numbering to about 3,000.

Forest officials coordinate commercial harvest of forest products from

community forests and provide technical assistance. Revenue officials

underwrite the enforcement of rules (Agrawal and Ostrom 1999, 30).

In Nepal’s Parks and People Program, residents of the buffer zone

of four national parks are allowed rights of access and use. During

specified times of the year lasting from 10 to 15 days, zone residents are

permitted to enter the protected area and they can harvest products

(like thatch grass), graze animals and collect firewood. Rules covering

these activities are crafted by the officials of the Protected Area without

the involvement of the local residents (Agrawal and Ostrom 1999, 34).

The change in the status of buffer zone residents since the Parks and

People Program began was to make them authorized entrants and users

of resources in the Protected Area. The relationship of the residents to

the Protected Area officials has not been altered by the Program.

Devolution in the form of transfer of responsibility to local users in the

case of Nepal is very limited.

It is hoped that the form of co-management for forest resources that

will evolve in the Cordillera will take the shape more of the former

mendoza 25-52.pmd

45

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


rather than the latter. From the community studies referred to in the

preceding sections, we can assert that the elements required for a viable

co-management scheme are present. There are effective property rights

in the ilis of the Cordillera. Customary norms support and enable

collective action here.

The institutional landscape now consists of organizational actors

whose attitude has become more sympathetic to ICCs and their practices.

Among them are the local government units that have become

empowered through the Local Government Code. For example, Colongon

et al. (2005, 83-85) report that several barangay councils in Bucloc in the

province of Abra have passed ordinances that formalize the use of lapat

as the management and protection system in reforestation sites. There

is a national agency like the NCIP that is tasked “to promote and protect

the rights and well-being of the ICCs/IPs and the recognition of their

ancestral domains as well as their rights thereto.” The DENR, which is

primarily responsible for forest policy, together with NCIP have now

through the Joint AO formally recognized indigenous forest management

systems and role of indigenous socio-political structures in forest

management. The stage appears to be set for a ‘successful’ comanagement

of forest resources in the Cordillera specifically where

customary norms regarding forest and land management have remained

strong. However, the research findings of Pinel from her study of the comanagement

experience of Mount Pulag National Park conclude that

“in the Mountain Pulag institutional context, the structure of

decentralization and indigenous rights created incentives for

competition and not collaboration” (2007, 254). Now the policy

environment, i.e., the local government code of 1991, IPRA of 1997 and

the DENR-NCIP Joint AO of 2008, has come closest to effectively making

a transfer of control from national government to local user groups of

forest resources among Cordillera indigenous communities. At the same

time, economic changes have transformed the structure of aspirations

and opportunities for individuals and households giving rise to social

and economic heterogeneity in these communities. The nagging question

that must be asked is: Have policy innovations come too late? We hope

not.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I wish to express my gratitude to the University of the Philippines Baguio

for the Cordillera Studies Center Research Fellowship awarded to me for

the period June 1, 2007 to May 31, 2008 which enabled the completion of this

paper.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

46

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


NOTES

1. The Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act of 1997 (Republic Act 8371) was

signed into law by Philippine President Fidel V. Ramos on October 1997.

The Act provides a legal framework for upholding indigenous land rights,

particularly over communal land.

2. A copy of the Joint AO can be accessed at <http://server2.denr.gov.ph/

files/jointao-denr-ncip-2008-01_634.pdf>.

3. These researches were funded by the Ford Foundation, Philippines.

4. The PRE researches were funded by the National Economic and

Development Authority (NEDA), Region I Office.

5. Both NRMP 1 and NRMP 2 were funded by the International

Development Research Centre of Canada.

6. See Rood 1995.

7. See Research Reports 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 on Ancestral Domain and Natural

Resource Management in Sagada, Mountain Province, Northern Philippines (Baguio

City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines Baguio, 2001).

8. The Philippine government has not always successfully enforced its

land policy on forest reserves and national parks by excluding the original

inhabitants of these areas. In the Cordillera, there are well-known exceptions.

There was the resettling of households from areas affected by the construction

of the Ambuklao and Binga dams in the 1950s. Construction of the Ambuklao

Dam began in July 1950 in the municipality of Bokod in Benguet Province

and the Ambuklao Hydroelectric plant began operations in December 1956.

The Binga Hydroelectric plant was constructed in August 1956 in the

municipality of Itogon, also in Benguet Province and it began its operations

in March 1960. See <http://www.cityofpines.com/ambuklao.html and http:

//www.cityofpines.com/binga.html>.

9. DAO 2 defined ancestral domain as all lands and natural resources

occupied or possessed by indigenous cultural communities, by themselves

or through their ancestors, communally or individually, in accordance with

their customs and traditions since time immemorial, continuously to the

present except when interrupted by war, force majeure, or displacement by

force, deceit or stealth.

10. DAO 2 defined ancestral land as land occupied, possessed and utilized

by individuals, families or clans who are members of an indigenous cultural

community.

11. Ili refers to a physical or geographic area, historically inhabited by a

homogeneous population which can trace its descent from common ancestors.

These persons share and manage common property resources following

customary land law (Mendoza and Brett 2009).

12. Note that CADCs were issued mostly to municipalities, as seen in

Table 1.

13. Saguday is the term of the northern Kankana-ey of Sagada for common

land that belongs to a descent group or clan, a family or ward (dap-ay) (see

Prill-Brett 2001, 9).

14. Successful indigenous and common-pool forest resource management

systems similar to what has been observed in the Cordillera have also been

identified in many villages of Nepal. A specific example is the Shinga naua

mendoza 25-52.pmd

47

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


system practiced by the local Sherpa community in the Solukhumbu region

of Nepal. Allocating forest resources and enforcing compliance to locally

crafted rules are the responsibility of the locally appointed officials called

Shinga naua (Pradhan and Parks 1995).

15. The Mount Pulag National Park includes within its boundaries five

municipalities of Benguet, and one municipality each of Ifugao and Nueva

Vizcaya (Batcagan 2007, 7).

16. Tawangan is a village located within while Ballay is located outside

the Mount Pulag National Park (see Figure 1 in Batcagan 2007, 8).

17. Data from the Sagada Tourism Office showed that a total of 4041

visitors came in March 2008. Of this total, 77 percent were Filipinos (3097)

and the remaining 23 percent included Europeans (569), Asians (210),

Americans (139), and Australians (26). But this was the peak when compared

to the numbers of visitors for the preceding five months: October 2007 -

1697; November 2007 - 1626, December 2007 - 2458, January 2008 - 2405, and

February 2008 – 2660.

18. National Statistics Office, Press Release on the 2004 Survey on Overseas

Filipinos, dated April 15, 2005.

19. They studied irrigators in Nepal, Southern India, and central Mexico.

REFERENCES

Agrawal, Arun and Elinor Ostrom. 1999. Collective action, property

rights, and devolution of forest and protected area management.

http://www.cgiar.org/capri/pdf/agrawal.pdf (accessed

January 24, 2007).

Bardhan, Pranab and Jeff Dayton-Johnson. 2002. Unequal irrigators:

Heterogeneity and commons management in large-scale multivariate

research. In The drama of the commons, ed. Elinor Ostrom,

Thomas Dietz, Nives Dolsak, Paul C. Stern, Susan Stonich, and

Elke U. Weber, 87-112. Committee on the Human Dimensions of

Global Change, Division of Behavioral and Social Sciences and

Education. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press.

Batcagan, Mia Alma M. 2007. Issues of the sustainable management

of forest protected areas in the Northern Philippines: Case study

of the Mt. Pulag National Park. MA seminar paper, University of

the Philippines Baguio.

Bautista, Ma. Victoria. 1994. Programs under the Department of

Environment and Natural Resources. In Indigenous practices

and state policy in the sustainable management of agricultural

lands and forests in the Cordillera, 161-193. Unpublished

research report. Cordillera Studies Center, University of

the Philippines College Baguio.

Cabalfin, Michael R. 2001. An analysis of the social arrangements

for the management of natural resources: The case of Ankileng,

Sagada. In Community studies in resource management: Ancestral

mendoza 25-52.pmd

48

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


domain and natural resource management in Sagada, Mountain

Province, Northern Philippines, 1-52. Research Report 2. Baguio

City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines

Baguio.

Colongon, Jr., Arellano A., Alicia G. Follosco, Noreen C. Orticio and

Bienvenido P. Tapang, Jr. 2005. Community response to

interventions in forest management and upland agriculture:

Focus on Bakun and Bucloc. Cordillera Studies Center, University

of the Philippines Baguio.

Cordillera Studies Center, UP College Baguio. 2002a. Management

plan of the ancestral domain unit of Barangay Ankileng, Sagada,

Mountain Province.

_______. 2002b. Management plan of the ancestral domain unit of

Central Sagada Ili, Sagada, Mountain Province.

_______. 2002c. Management plan of the ancestral domain unit of

Fidelisan Ili, Sagada, Mountain Province.

Corpuz-Diaz, Victoria Lourdes. 1994. Barangay Patay, Sagada,

Mountain Province. Tourism and local forest management:

Sustainability of a community amid the pines. In Indigenous

practices and state policy in the sustainable management of

agricultural lands and forests in the Cordillera, 130-162.

Unpublished research report. Cordillera Studies Center,

University of the Philippines College Baguio.

Cruz, Gladys A. 2001. The social arrangements in natural resource

management: Demang, Sagada. In Community studies in resource

management: Ancestral domain and natural resource management in

Sagada, Mountain Province, NorthernPhilippines, 33-52. Research

Report 2. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the

Philippines Baguio.

German, Laura et al. 2008. Enabling equitable collective action and

policy change for poverty reduction and improved natural

resource management in the eastern African highlands.

Collective Action and Property Rights (CAPRI) Working Paper,

No. 86, June.

IIRR, LGSP, SANREM CRSP/Southeast Asia. 2001. Enhancing

participation in local governance: Experiences from the Philippines.

International Institute of Rural Reconstruction, Philippines-

Canada Local Government Support Program and SANREM

CRSP/Southeast Asia.

Larson, Anne M. 2004. Democratic decentralisation in the forestry sector:

Lessons learned from Africa, Asia and Latin America. Center for

International Forestry Research (CIFOR).

La Viña, Antonio GM. (n.d.). The future of CBNRM in the Philippines:

The impact and challenge of global change on Philippine natural

resources policy. Draft paper prepared forthe Ford Foundation.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

49

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Leonen, Marvic M.V. F. 1998. The Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act of

1997 (Republic Act No. 8371): Will this legal reality bring us to

a more progressive level of political discourse? Philippine

Natural Resources Law Journal 9 (1): 7-45.

Lindayati, Rita. 2000. Community forestry policies in selected

Southeast Asian countries. Ottawa: CBNRM Program Initiative,

International Development Research Centre.

Manasan, Rosario G. 2002. Devolution and environmental and

natural resource management in the Philippines: Analytical

and policy issues. Philippine Journal of Development 24 (1): 33-54.

Mckay, Deirdre and Carol Brady. 2005. Practices of place-making:

Globalisation and locality in the Philippines. Asia Pacific

Viewpoint 46 (2): 89-103.

Meinzen-Dick, Ruth and Anna Knox. 2001. Collective action,

property rights and devolution of natural resource

management: A conceptual framework. In Collective action,

property rights and devolution of natural resource management –

exchange of knowledge and implications for policy, ed. Ruth

Meinzen-Dick, Anna Knox and Monica di Gregorio, 41-74.

Proceedings of the International Conference held June 21-25, 1999

in Puerto Azul, The Philippines. Feldafing, Germany: German

Foundation for International Development.

Mendoza, Lorelei Crisologo. 2006. Part I, Synthesis: Lessons in

natural resource management from Cordillera communities. In

Narrative report: Ancestral domain and natural resource

management in Sagada, Mountain Province, Northern Philippines, 1-

12. Research Report 5. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center,

University of the Philippines Baguio.

_______ and June Prill-Brett. 2009. Communal land management in

the Cordillera region of the Philippines. In Land and cultural

survival: The communal land rights of indigenous peoples in Asia, ed.

Jayantha Perera, 35-61. Manila: Asian Development Bank.

_______, June Prill-Brett, Bienvenido P. Tapang, Gladys A. Cruz,

Arellano A. Colongon Jr., Victoria Lourdes C. Diaz, Ma.

Cecilia San Luis and Alicia G. Follosco. 2006. Harmonizing

ancestral domain with local governance in the Cordillera of the

northern Philippines. In Communities, livelihoods and natural

resources: Action research and policy change in Asia, ed. Stephen R.

Tyler, 231-252. Ottawa: International Development Research

Center and Warwickshire: Intermediate Technology Publications,

Ltd.

Ngaido, Tidiane and Michael Kirk. 2001. Collective action, property

rights, and devolution of rangeland management: Selected

examples from Africa and Asia. In Collective action, property

rights and devolution of natural resource management – exchange of

mendoza 25-52.pmd

50

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


knowledge and implications for policy, ed. Ruth Meinzen-Dick,

Anna Knox and Monica di Gregorio, 147-182. Proceedings of the

International Conference held June 21-25, 1999 in Puerto Azul,

The Philippines. Feldafing, Germany: German Foundation for

International Development.

NRMP 2 Research Proposal. 1996. Ancestral domain and natural

resource management in Sagada, Mt. Province, Northern

Philippines. Submitted to the International Development

Research Centre (IDRC), Canada by the Cordillera Studies Center,

University of the Philippines College Baguio.

O’Hara, Peter. 2006. Shaping the key to fit the lock: participatory

action research and community forestry in the Philippines. In

Communities, livelihoods and natural resources: Action research and

policy change in Asia, ed. Stephen R. Tyler, 253-273. Ottawa:

International Development Research Center and Warwickshire:

Intermediate Technology Publications, Ltd.

Ostrom, Elinor. 1995. Designing complexity to govern complexity. In

Property rights and the environment: Social and ecological

issues, ed. Susana Hanna and Mohan Munasinghe, 33-46.

Washington D.C.: The World Bank.

Philippine Economic-Environmental and Natural Resources

Accounting. 2000. Data bulletin on land and soils (preliminary).

Philippine Overseas Employment Authority (POEA). 2006.

Compendium of overseas employment statistics.

Pinel, Sandra Lee. 2007. Co-management of cultural landscapes:

Collaborating to compete at Mt. Pulag National Park, the

Philippines. PhD diss., University of Wisconsin-Madison.

Pradhan, Ajay S. and Peter J. Parks. 1995. Environmental and

socioeconomic linkages of deforestation and forest land use

change in the Nepal Himalaya. In Property rights in a social and

ecological context: Case studies and design applications, ed. Susan

Hanna and Mohan Munasinghe, 75-82. Washington D.C.: The

International Bank for Reconstruction and Development/World

Bank.

Prill-Brett, June. 2001. Concepts of ancestral domain in the Cordillera

Region from indigenous perspectives. In Perspectives on resource

management in the Cordillera Region: Ancestral domain and natural

resource management in Sagada, Mountain Province, Northern

Philippines, 1-21. Research report 1. Baguio City: Cordillera

Studies Center, University of the Philippines Baguio.

Prill-Brett, June, Gladys A. Cruz, Lorelei Crisologo Mendoza and

Bienvenido P. Tapang, Jr. 1994. A comparative study of

agricultural commercialization in selected highland communities

of the Cordillera-Ilocos Region. CSC Working Paper 24. Cordillera

Studies Center, University of the Philippines College Baguio.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

51

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM


Prill-Brett, June and Florence Salinas. 1994. Profile of Mount Data

plateau. In Indigenous practices and state policy in the

sustainable management of agricultural lands and forests in the

Cordillera, 77-129. Unpublished research report, Cordillera

Studies Center, University of the Philippines College Baguio.

Rood, Steven. 1994. A preliminary report on the research project

“Indigenous practices and state policy: The sustainable

management of agricultural lands and forests in the Cordillera.”

Paper presented at the Conference on Environment and

Development in Southeast Asia, University of Wisconsin-

Madison, 9-10 July.

_______. 1995. Indigenous practices and state policy in the

sustainable management of agricultural lands and forests in

the Cordillera: A summary report. CSC Working Paper 25.

Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines College

Baguio.

_______ and Athena Lydia Casambre. 1994. State policy,

indigenous community practice, and sustainability in the Cordillera,

Northern Philippines. CSC Working Paper 23. Cordillera Studies

Center, University of the Philippines College Baguio.

San Luis, Ma. Cecilia R. 2001. Social relations in natural resource

management: Co-management of common property resources:

The case of Fidelisan, Sagada, Mt. Province. In Community studies

in resource management: Ancestral domain and natural resource

management in Sagada, Mountain Province, Northern Philippines, 53-

80. Research Report 2. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center,

University of the Philippines Baguio.

Sundar, Nandini. 2000. Unpacking the joint in joint forest

management. Development and Change 31:255-279.

Tacloy, John G. 2000. Indigenous forest conservation systems in the

Cordillera Region. PhD diss., Benguet State University.

_______. 2001. Forestry practices in Sagada. In Natural resource

assessment: Ancestral domain and natural resource management in

Sagada, Mountain Province, Northern Philippines, 1-31. Research

Report 3. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the

Philippines Baguio.

mendoza 25-52.pmd

52

1/27/2010, 2:33 PM

Governing Indigenous People 53

Governing Indigenous People: Indigenous Persons

in Governm ent Implementing the Indigenous

Pe op le s’ Rig hts Ac t

PADMAPANI L. PEREZ

Unive rsity o f the Philip p ines Ba g uio

In the political landscape of the Philippines, governance and politics

are distinct in the Cordillera region because individuals who identify

themselves as indigenous peoples dominate local government. This

political dominance—in terms of numbers as well as the levels of

positions attained—rises out of the creation and maintenance of

boundaries around difference, which had its beginnings in the upland

resistance to Spanish colonial rule in the 16th century, and produced

an elite indigenous class in the final years of the American colonial

regime. It has remained more or less constant since then. Indigenous

individuals in public office often attribute the success of government

programs in the region to understandings between fellow indigenous

Cordilleran officials. On the other hand, they attribute failed public

initiatives to a lack of understanding of local conditions by non-

Cordillerans in the higher echelons of national government agencies. I

see these governing indigenous individuals, or professional indigenous

persons, as agents in state processes of boundary-maintenance,

inasmuch as they are engaged in renegotiating the very boundaries

their government posts are designed to implement. They move between

deploying power and being subjected to power; between being agents

of the state implementing national laws and policies in the Cordillera,

and being Cordilleran natives asserting the distinctiveness of being

indigenous and creating spaces for a measure of indigenous selfdetermination

within a nation-state. These movements across

boundaries become quite apparent in the spaces and times when

ancestral domain claims are negotiated under Republic Act No. 8371 of

1997, also known as the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act (IPRA).

The implementing agency for the IPRA is the National

Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP). It is distinct from other

national government agencies because it is composed entirely of

indigenous commissioners and officers representing the different regions

and indigenous groups across the country. NCIP officers carry out a

mandate to protect indigenous peoples’ rights to self-determination even

as they assert the national culture of the state at local levels and often in

perez 53-86.pmd

53

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


remote, or marginal areas of Philippine political geography and

ideology. When they engage indigenous peoples in the ili, 1 or homevillages,

they also become translators and brokers—translating the letter

of the law and making it applicable in local situations, and brokering

agreements that will seal and fix the boundaries of ancestral domains.

As such, they are in a position to influence the ways in which indigenous

people assert their rights to territories and natural resources on the

basis of identity, patrimony, and occupation from “time immemorial.”

In this paper I will show how the positionalities of local-level officers of

the NCIP and other governing indigenous individuals influence the

process of making claims as well as the very nature of claims to ancestral

domains in the Cordillera, particularly in the province of Benguet.

In addition, I will show how the IPRA happens to people, as well

as how people make the IPRA happen. A decade after the IPRA’s

promulgation, I ask: How is the IPRA transforming the ways in which

indigenous peoples make claims to land and resources? What roles do

indigenous government representatives from various agencies play in

these transformations? Is indigenous identity a key factor in the interface

of government representatives and indigenous communities? If it is,

when does it count and how is it brought to the fore during interactions?

Interface and Boundaries

Long defines a social interface as “a critical point of intersection between

lifeworlds, social fields or levels of social organisation where social

discontinuities, based upon discrepancies in values, interests,

knowledge and power, are most likely to be located” (2001, 243). This

paper offers up a description and analysis of the implementation

practices entailed by the IPRA, where indigenous lifeworlds intertwine

with bureaucratic state procedures. I will describe what takes place in

scheduled meetings at which traditional knowledge, legal matters, and

social and physical boundaries around ancestral domains are discussed

and negotiated. These are the times and spaces in which the

implementation of the IPRA is said to happen in the view of the officers

of the NCIP. In paying close attention to this interface I aim to contribute

to a growing body of ethnography on policy implementation in the

Philippine Cordilleras. I present here a detailed, ethnographic

examination of the positionalities of contemporary indigenous elite, 2

how policy implementation comes about in indigenous communities,

and how indigenous intelligentsia negotiate the boundaries around

maintaining cultural difference while belonging to a nation-state. By

focusing on the interface of indigenous persons in state-sanctioned roles

and indigenous persons based in the ili 3 I aim to show exactly how

policy implementation is negotiated on the ground.

perez 53-86.pmd

54

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Boundaries are purposively made by people to separate themselves

or to separate matter or certain objects from the rest of the environment

(Barth 2000). The nation-state, as a geographical and bureaucratic entity,

exists by virtue of boundaries. In government programs, “bounded

categories of beneficiaries” (Barth 2000, 29) are identified and actors

are expected to fit into these to qualify. In the dynamic of indigenous

peoples rights, boundaries are ubiquitous. Lines of inclusion and

exclusion are drawn around who does and does not qualify as

indigenous, as a requisite to recognition of indigenous rights to land by

virtue of identities and histories. The boundaries with which I am

concerned in this study are those of places (ancestral domains), time

(work-time, project cycles, implementation targets), and social

boundaries (boundaries of relationships, interactions, behavior and

positionalities).

It is important to note that boundaries are permeable. Barth asserts

that human activities create “leakages” in borders, and re-connect what

has been separated (2000, 28). This is done through “inventive

behavioral responses to the imposition of boundaries, and the effects of

social positioning” (ibid.). Barth asserts that it is not isolation and

absence of contact or mobility that keeps ethnic categories distinct.

Rather, ethnic distinctions “entail social processes of exclusion and

incorporation whereby discrete categories are maintained despite

changing participation and membership in the course of individual life

histories” (Barth 1994, 9-10). The critical social boundary in the context

of the IPRA’s implementation is that between power- and statuswielding

professional indigenous persons and ili-based indigenous

persons who constantly seek ways to assert their agency in the struggle

for rights to ancestral land. In this study, I show how the formal

recognition of indigenous rights to land and natural resources has

transformed indigenous processes of exclusion and incorporation,

thereby also affecting the permeability of ethnic boundaries.

Boundaries are not static, but constantly subject to change. People

can reconceptualize boundaries based on the events that take place

around them, and the affordances that actors are able to harness. Ingold

(1992, 46) defines affordances as “properties of the real environment as

directly perceived by an agent in a context of practical action.” They

can be both physical objects, as well as embodied meanings. Different

actors may attend to different affordances in the environment, and draw

these into their experiences and their lives. Thus, through affordances,

social and physical boundaries not only serve to separate, but also to

connect (Barth 2000, 30). Connections are spun out of the work of people

who respond to affordances selectively and pragmatically.

According to Barth, the presence of a boundary sets social and

material processes in motion, with emergent results. Thus, boundaries

must also be seen as sites of enforcement, resistance, and negotiation.

perez 53-86.pmd

55

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Physical boundaries can shift in location as a result of negotiations

between communities or actors. Social boundaries can be broken or

reformulated as a result of resistance or as a result of changes actors

bring about in their own positionality. Political boundaries, as Barth

points out, have been rich in affordances throughout history. “They are

a constant field of opportunities for mediators, traders, and

middlepersons of all kinds” (2000, 29). As this paper shows,

professional indigenous persons in particular thrive at the sites of

boundaries. They are capable of controlling who or what is allowed to

move across borders, and influencing the very lines that re-define the

boundaries of people and place.

Historical roots of indigenous elite participation in the state

It is important to make a short foray into history in order to arrive at an

understanding of the creation of difference and the emergence of an

indigenous elite, a class of Cordilleran society that has been understudied

to date. Geographically speaking, the Cordillera region is comprised of

the chain of mountains on the western side of the island of Luzon,

stretching northward from the tip of Pangasinan. It is a diverse region,

both geologically and ethnolinguistically: there are three mountain range

systems within the region and at least seven major indigenous languages

with several local variants (De Raedt 1991, 355 as referred to in Finin

2005, 10). From the 17th century onwards, the Spanish colonizers and

lowlanders generally referred to the people occupying the Cordilleras

as “Igorots” (Scott 1977, 41), a term that came to be hotly debated, and

then later accepted by some, but not all indigenous groups in the region.

During the Spanish colonial period, the Igorots did not think of

themselves or present themselves as one unified population. Their

loyalties and affiliations belonged with their villages and kin. The

discussion below describes briefly a small part of the historical

emergence of a pan-Cordilleran identity.

Finin (2005) argues that it was primarily during the American

period of Philippine history that resistance to foreign encroachment

became articulated as indigenous patrimony, and as a ‘natural’

attachment of Cordillerans to the Cordillera. However, uplanders in

Northern Luzon defended their independence with their lives long

before the emergence of a pan-Cordilleran sense of entitlement. In fact,

Cordilleran resistance to foreign aggression predates the American

propagation of difference by at least three centuries (Scott 1977 and

1993).

Relations between the Spaniards, the Christianized lowlanders,

and the so-called pagan uplanders, commonly referred to as Igorots,

were largely ambiguous during Spanish rule in the Philippine islands.

perez 53-86.pmd

56

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


The conception of an indigenous territory that encompassed the entire

Cordillera region is traceable to the reification of the Christian vs. non-

Christian divide, which had its beginnings in the Spanish colonial

period and heightened differences between highlanders and lowlanders

who were previously culturally similar (Finin 2005, Scott 1977). The

combination of strong local agency, with prolonged resistance to Spanish

subjugation followed by American paternalistic policy, built the

foundation for a sense of entitlement to the right to live, prosper, and

govern in their own territory among Cordillerans throughout the region.

On the other hand, the segregation of the uplands from the lowlands

also gave rise to the prevalent view of the region and its people as the

backwaters of the nascent Philippine Republic. Upland populations

came to be viewed with both fear and prejudice. 7 This was a view that

the indigenous intelligentsia actively strove to change and that

continues to surface from time to time so that contemporary professional

indigenous persons still have to push against this boundary in different,

perhaps subtler ways. 8

To summarize, indigenous individuals in the Cordillera have

actively positioned themselves for political and/or economic gain at

turning points of Philippine colonial and post-colonial history (Finin

2005; Fry 1983; Scott 1977). The historical progression of this indigenous

elite can be traced on through World War II and Philippine

independence but this brief account shows how the cumulative effects

of sustained resistance to Spanish rule, American colonial policy, and

local agency have brought about indigenous elite control over much of

the Cordillera region. Finally, an important link here between history

and the present is that the NCIP and the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes

are parallel instruments of governance in two distinct periods of the

nation’s history; each established to handle matters pertaining to a

sector of the Philippine populations perceived to be “different” from

the majority.

The NCIP and the implementation of the IPRA in Kabayan

One of the interfaces in which the tension of difference and belonging is

played out is when the officers of the NCIP in the Cordillera region do

their work of implementing the IPRA. As translators and brokers they

work with the awareness that the ili-based indigenous peoples they are

mandated to serve do not always correspond with the category

“indigenous peoples” as defined in the law that they implement. 9 In

addition, they are confronted with differences in the processes through

which indigenous rights are determined and demanded among ili-based

indigenous groups, and the administrative protocols and

implementation regimes under which the NCIP must operate. This will

perez 53-86.pmd

59

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


be made apparent in the following ethnographic description of the roles

and actions of officers of the NCIP and other indigenous leaders and

agents of the state in the implementation of the IPRA in the municipality

of Kabayan, Benguet.

This micro-ethnography on the work of the NCIP in the

municipality of Kabayan is drawn from fieldwork conducted at different

periods between 2003 and 2006, and from official documents that were

drawn up between 1996 and 2006. When appropriate I have quoted at

length statements made by officers of the NCIP, other indigenous

individuals in government, and ili-based indigenous persons, in order

to render visible the ways in which notions of identity and territory are

articulated, negotiated, and manipulated by different actors. First I will

describe the general structure and functions of the NCIP, and then I will

proceed to describe how the IPRA’s implementation was played out in

Kabayan in the period specified above.

Indigenous identity, aside from professional and educational

attainments, is among the government’s established requisites for

officials of the NCIP. In the Benguet Provincial Office of the NCIP, all of

the officers/employees trace their ancestry to various ili within the

Cordillera region. 10 They reside in the urban centers of Baguio and La

Trinidad. The work of the staff of the Provincial Office takes place largely

in two different settings and under two related “disciplines.” The office

is physically based in La Trinidad, the provincial capital of Benguet.

From time to time, ili-based indigenous persons visit the NCIP offices in

La Trinidad to submit documents or to make queries and requests. Here

“the textual discipline of reporting” (Mosse 2005, 110) predominates.

Documents relating to ancestral domain claims are drafted, finalized,

and forwarded to the appropriate offices and individuals, or filed away.

Plans and schedules are drawn up, budgets are drafted and approved,

and letters are sent out to various communities, informing them of future

meetings or seeking support from local government units in mobilizing

community members to attend NCIP meetings. The office is the

springboard for trips to “the field,” the other main setting in which the

provincial office operates.

The field is where the interface between the NCIP and ili-based

indigenous communities is at its most intensive. For officers of the NCIP,

just as for anthropologists, any given field visit is a trip to any of the

villages, municipalities, or ancestral domains in which they work with

local people to implement the IPRA. In the field they conduct information

and education campaigns on the law, they guide—or as some would

argue, they impose upon—indigenous groups in the preparation of

papers and proofs to support their claims to land, they gather information

on village genealogies and customary law, and they facilitate the

formulation of Ancestral Domain Sustainable Development and

Protection Plans, to mention but a few of the local-level tasks and

perez 53-86.pmd

60

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


ancestral domains. Under the IPRA, existing ancestral domain claims

could be converted into ancestral domain titles. In order for the Kabayan

Ancestral Domain Claim to be converted into an Ancestral Domain

Title, the ili-based indigenous people of Kabayan and the NCIP had to

officially settle all remaining conflict over domain boundaries, and revalidate

all official documents and proofs previously submitted as

supporting evidence for the claim. Many, previously unresolved conflicts

over boundaries surfaced, each of which had to be settled before a

communally held land title could be awarded to Kabayan. Thus from

2004 to 2006, the heaviest and most complicated work of the NCIP in

Kabayan involved Ancestral Domain Boundary Resolutions.

Ancestral Domain Boundary Resolution

Ancestral domain boundary resolutions (ADBR) are negotiations that

are convened for the purpose of settling any conflict over land and

boundaries between residents of adjacent ancestral domains and

ancestral lands. 13 Such was the case in the Ancestral Domain Boundary

Resolution between Lusod, a Kalanguya barangay in Kabayan, and

Balite, a Kalanguya barangay in the municipality of Kayapa. This section

focuses on one particular event, the Lusod-Balite ADBR. The discussion

is carried out in much detail, with a view to revealing how various

indigenous actors voice out and negotiate their claims, how the NCIP

frontliners implement the IPRA in the presence of ili-based indigenous

peoples, and how they move back and forth across boundaries.

This ADBR was to be the fourth meeting between Barangay Lusod

and Barangay Balite. On the negotiating table were tracts of land that

included forests, farmlands, residences, and the peak of Mt. Pulag. In

previous meetings, no compromises or agreements were reached.

Participants and witnesses had signed a certificate of non-agreement.

This meant that the case would be brought before the Hearing Officer at

the regional office of the Commission. The settlement of the boundary

would be treated as a court case, with both sides presenting evidence to

support their claims. 14

Meanwhile, funding had come into the regional office of the NCIP

from the European Union supporting the costs for the titling of ancestral

domains in Benguet. Because of this, there was some external pressure

to accomplish the titling for Kabayan (and the other ancestral domain

claims in the province of Benguet) before the funding program was to

end. Given this target, the non-agreement between Lusod and Balite

was not acceptable to the NCIP. The Benguet Provincial Office of the

NCIP called for this fourth meeting so as to push for a “preliminary and

temporary settlement.” This temporary agreement would allow them to

proceed with the delineation of boundaries and erect markers along the

perez 53-86.pmd

63

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


borders of Kabayan’s ancestral domain. Notably, this would enable

them to make efficient use of the funds and to report accomplishments

back to the donor. This may be seen as a mere instance of NCIP officers

acting according to their mandate and bureaucratic procedures, or

operating under textual and temporal disciplines. However, as the

account given here will show this compliance with state procedure and

meeting of targets is exercised as pressure by NCIP officers and other

government officials upon local communities.

It took two days for the officers of the NCIP to travel across grueling

roads from La Trinidad to Babadac, 15 the appointed venue for the

negotiations between Lusod, Kabayan and Balite, Kayapa. With their

permission, I traveled with the group from La Trinidad in order to get a

sense of how NCIP work is carried out by these frontliners. There was

some difficulty reaching the venue due to the unavailability of a fourwheel

drive jeep. Some of the officers suggested turning back and rescheduling

the ADBR. However, one officer reminded them that the

communities had been notified about the meeting, a pig had already

been purchased, and since there was no way to send word to Babadac,

the pig would probably be slaughtered first thing the next morning and

would be cooked and served to the ADBR participants by noon. She

said that if there was still no vehicle available the following day, they

should be prepared to proceed to the village on foot, just as all the ilibased

participants would be doing. This officer’s exhortation to her

colleagues suggests a familiarity with and sensitivity to how the

assemblies organized by the NCIP take up local time and resources.

This awareness can be attributed to understanding acquired from the

frequent field visits of the NCIP, as well as to the knowledge of an

insider.

When the NCIP officers reached Babadac a small gathering of

people from Lusod was already waiting. Their group was a mix of male

elders, young men, women, and their small children from Lusod. Only

one elder was present from the opposing village, Balite. The NCIP

officers called the elders together and every one faced a wall on which

the officers had tacked up a hand-drawn map of the area under question,

which was later replaced with a map made with a global positioning

device. The atmosphere was calm and the discussions proceeded

cordially and in soft voices, as is often typical of Kalanguya gatherings,

something that they take pride in.

First, one of the officers of the Commission explained the agenda

for this particular ADBR, and the meaning of a temporary and

preliminary settlement. The elder from Balite then complained that it

would be difficult for him to make decisions because he was alone. He

claimed that his fellow elders and villagers thought that the meeting

would be held in a different village. He did not know whether any of his

companions would arrive. The Benguet officers were adamant that they

perez 53-86.pmd

64

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


had sent invitations to the NCIP provincial office in Nueva Vizcaya,

and that the officers there should have informed the villagers. Although

the Balite elder had expressed his hesitance about proceeding due to

his being alone, the NCIP officers insisted that the ADBR proceed and

that they should reach a temporary preliminary settlement by the end of

it.

When the elders spoke, they did so one at a time and heard each

other out, just as in a traditional tongtong. 16 When they wanted to identify

specific locations, they stood beside the map and pointed out the places

they referred to. The elders of Lusod articulated their right to the area

under question by invoking the places where their ancestors had opened

up uma, or where they were buried. For example:

“This place, Dagway, that is the place we… remember from our

childhood. If you were to look at this place, you would see the

evidence: the trees… that people planted and used for firewood

before. Back then, there was no alnos yet. There used to be coffee

trees there, but they have died. The trees my ancestors planted

spread out up until Huyucto… My father is buried there, and my

grandfather. My great-grandfather Liggew is also buried there,

and so is Ingosan. There are many more of them buried there.” 17

Others put emphasis on the land tax declarations they were paying

to the municipal government, as evidence of their rightful ownership to

land within the contested area. For example:

“When they built a road here, funded by Kabayan, we all

witnessed it. That is why we pay our [land tax] declaration there

[in Kabayan]. That is why, what we want is for our land to be

surveyed as part of the CADT of Kabayan. Those of us who live in

this area also want our other places to be part of Kabayan, here in

Huyucto, Yakong, and Nagkampil. That is all.”

The elder from Balite, being alone, enumerated a list of place names

that indicated a path that was frequented by people from Balite since

before “peace time.” Peacetime refers to the years that came immediately

after the end of the Japanese Occupation of the Philippines, at the end of

the Second World War. The Balite elder also asserted that the peak of

Mt. Pulag belonged in Kayapa territory.

When it became clear that each side was only repeatedly stating

their claims without making any compromises, one of the NCIP officers

stood up and made an appeal to the assembly. Her words reveal the

textual and temporal disciplines under which the NCIP operates:

“This law was made for you. Let’s not waste it. If we show people

that there is no understanding between us, that we refuse to share,

perez 53-86.pmd

65

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


it will not look good. What is more, let us not disappoint our

donors. If they see that it is difficult to fund these negotiations,

that they take too long and bear no results they will be

disappointed. This is one reason why we must have a preliminary

settlement. Don’t worry. Even if we do [a preliminary settlement]

now, if you win in the courts that is [the decision] that will be

followed, not this one.”

Here is a situation that clearly shows how activities and

expenditure against targets become measures of performance for

frontliners in the implementation regime (Mosse 2005, 112). The officers

of the NCIP at this ADBR were working under the pressure of temporal

discipline—in this case, project cycles and a donor’s fiscal year. The

pressure to perform, as felt by the NCIP, extended to the ili-based

indigenous people as pressure to arrive at a decision. It was clear from

the initial reticence of the gathering that the temporary agreement was

a compromise they were not willing to make. Here, the complexity of

inter-community issues became reduced to delays in implementation

(Mosse 2005, 110).

The NCIP officer was trying to offer the people gathered assurance

and guarantees that this temporary agreement was for the benefit of all.

First, she assured the assembly that the law was made to work for

indigenous peoples, thereby implying that they could feel secure about

the law, and that the government is a benevolent and caring entity.

Second, in relation to the former, she proffered the certainty that the

government would resolve the conflict between the two villages and

that the decision made in the NCIP hearing office would be honored

over and above the temporary agreement.

What she did not say was that both the temporary agreement and

the hearings were fraught with uncertainty for each village. The decisionmaking

process in the hearing office would be out of their hands, and it

was unclear what they could gain from the temporary agreement. How

sure could they be that any compromises they made in this ADBR would

be rescinded by the NCIP court decision? What assurance did each

party have that the court would decide in their favor as against the

opposing village’s claim? Several implicit threats hung in the air. For

the NCIP, there was the possibility of losing funding, and also the loss

of credibility of individuals as well as of the whole process. For the ilibased

indigenous people, there was the threat of losing an opportunity

to hold titles to their land.

Another significant point that can be pulled out of the NCIP officer’s

statement is her own positionality. Above she uses the plural first person,

addressing the gathering in a respectful manner but also positioning

herself as one indigenous person to whom the law pertains, and for

whom the law was made. As she continued her statement, she tacked

perez 53-86.pmd

66

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


back and forth between the first person and the third person, alternately

emphasizing her being an agent of the state and indigenous, and the

need for a decision from the representatives of Lusod and Balite.

“…One more thing you should think about now is the meaning

of ‘ancestral domain’. The ancestral domain is the territory that is

still occupied by the first people, the caretakers [who settled in

the place]. From then until the present it is still occupied by them,

used by them, and cared for by them. That’s ancestral domain.

That is what you need to prove in court: that it is you who have

been occupying and possessing this domain… If we continue to

try to discuss with you which portions of the claim you are willing

to give up, for sure you will continue to disagree with each other,

especially since [the elder from Balite] is alone… What we should

do is look for the places where we can put temporary boundary

markers. These will be temporary because you have filed a

complaint in the NCIP court… Where can we put the boundary

markers for the meantime, so that Kabayan’s ancestral domain

[boundaries] can be closed? Let’s go directly to that…”

The above reiteration of what constitutes an ancestral domain was

directed against the claim of the Balite elder that the peak of Mt. Pulag

belonged to Kayapa. The officer considered this contentious. Given her

definition of an ancestral domain, no one could claim the peak of Mt.

Pulag for no one has ever lived on, or occupied the peak. However, the

Ibaloy consider Pulag to be their spiritual homeland. When their

ancestors die, they take up residence on the peak of Pulag. In the Kabayan

Ancestral Domain Management Plan, Pulag is referred to as the

“heaven” of the Ibaloys. In addition, they claim that the slopes of Pulag

were their traditional hunting grounds. On the basis of the IPRA’s

definition of an ancestral domain, Kabayan’s claim to the peak is

reasonable. The reason Pulag is much coveted by the settlements

surrounding it is that the park appears to be generating income from

fees that are paid by mountaineers or hikers to the area. Since it is the

second highest peak in the Philippines it is a destination or peak that

every mountain climber would like to visit.

Just as the NCIP officer’s statement obliquely refuted the Pulag

claim from Balite, one young man from the municipality of Kayapa

defended the claim thusly:

“This area is our watershed. Balite’s water comes from here. This

[area] (pointing to map) is truly a watershed because it is thickly

forested. This (pointing to another area on the map) is the

grassland of Mt. Pulag. Nobody can claim that as his or hers. But

if you say that it belongs to Kabayan, then yes, it belongs to

Kabayan. The DENR already approved that. But what [they] said

is that Tawangan, Lusod, and all the adjacent areas belong to the

perez 53-86.pmd

67

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Ibaloy. But what about us Kalanguya? It’s true… Attorney showed

us a map in his office in the capitol… So don’t cast us Kalanguya

aside. We don’t want the Kalanguya in those areas to be displaced

or lost. Even if you were to take an ethnographic survey, you

would see that this area is not occupied by the Ibaloy. Kalanguya

live here…”

The statement of this man emanates in part from his training and

experience as a member of the Mt. Pulag Indigenous Tour Guides

Association. When he referred to the mossy forests of Mt. Pulag as a

“watershed” he used the language of the DENR with whom he worked

closely as a guide for mountaineers entering the national park. Similarly

his familiarity with “ethnographic surveys” points to the IPRA’s regime

of proofs and requirements. The mention of “attorney” also points to

the linkages that ili-based indigenous peoples have with a network of

indigenous intelligentsia based in urban centers who exert influence

on processes taking place in the ili, albeit from a distance. I will return

to these linkages later on. One of the most striking points of this young

man’s statement was the way in which he invoked the long-standing

relationship between the Ibaloy and the Kalanguya, which is

characterized by the socio-economic and political dominance of the

former (Afable 1989). When he urged the NCIP not to “cast aside” the

Kalanguya, he was referring to the marginal, almost invisible, minority

status of the Kalanguya in the five contiguous provinces they have

spread to.

Anticipating the new turn that the negotiations were taking now

that Kalanguya-ness had been brought into the picture, one of the NCIP

officers spoke:

As far as I know, one of the biggest problems of our office is that

when DENR gave out CADCs, they did not do it according to

tribe. Instead, they said, ‘This belongs to the Ibaloy, Kalanguya,

Kankana-ey tribes of Kabayan’… They identified the

municipality… That is what is very confusing for all of us—the

political and ancestral domain. But that is done, that has been

started by them… Nobody said anything about amending that.

We are simply following the law. This problem came up in Tinoc

also. They want all Kalanguya to be united. We know that they

want all Kalanguyas to come together as one province. No, it’s

true, they want to make a province. We all know that, don’t we?

That is one of the issues… But now how do we do this when we

have this law to follow...? After the [DENR] A.O. 2, we had to

follow this requirement they call consent. We got the consent of

Tawangan and Lusod. They did not say, ‘No, we don’t want to be

part of Kabayan’. They said, ‘Yes, we want to be added’...

perez 53-86.pmd

68

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


At this point, the negotiations at this ADBR had grown into much

more than a matter of temporary settlement of boundaries between two

villages. The picture that emerges from the foregoing discussion shows

two villages belonging to one people, the Kalanguya, negotiating against

each other from two separate domains and across the political

boundaries of two adjacent municipalities and provinces. The pressure

the NCIP applied to the gathering was confusing because, in effect, they

were asking the people to make an immediate, much-needed decision

that would be rendered meaningless by a court decision later on. There

was confusion over what was at stake and what could be gained in

these negotiations, and whether people were going to get titles to their

land or lose their land.

The confusion was compounded when the mayor and vice-mayor

of the municipality of Kayapa arrived unexpectedly. Immediately, the

vice mayor of Kayapa raised a question:

“What puzzles me, and what confuses every one here… is that if

[the boundary] were not specified as ‘found in the municipality

of Kabayan’, there would be no problem. Why should we prevent

this when it’s going to do them good? But the difficulty is…, that

term, ‘in the municipality of Kabayan’. Even though we say that

it is part of an ancestral domain, and we say that it’s the ancestral

domain of the Kalanguya, Ibaloy, and Kankana-ey, as long as

that wasn’t specified, then it would be fine! If it said instead,

‘found in the provinces of Benguet and [Nueva] Vizcaya’, there

would be no dispute problem.”

The government officials also alleged that there was no “due

process” and that the people of Balite and the municipal officials were

not properly consulted about the implementation of the IPRA. One of

the staffers remarked that the due process of the new law, IPRA, was

that it was the ili-based people who should settle the dispute among

them.

“It is they who should settle the matter among themselves,

through their customary laws. The problem is that their

testimonies are all contradicting and so it will be heard as a court

case in the NCIP regional office. Now they have to arrive at a

preliminary settlement. It is up to them, not us.” 18

With this statement, the staff implied that they and the local

government officials should not interfere in the negotiations, and the

decision was not theirs to make. Again, the shifting positionality of

indigenous government representatives could be seen in this exchange

between the NCIP officers and the local government officials. The NCIP

placed themselves and the local government officials in the same category

perez 53-86.pmd

69

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


when they said that they should not interfere in the decision-making of

the ili-based indigenous peoples. In this case, they invoked their

responsibilities (and also restraints) as holders of public office and

separated themselves from the ili-based indigenous people. However,

this belies the fact that the NCIP was pushing a decision. On the other

hand, the mayor and the vice-mayor were trying to delay it.

An elder from Lusod moved forward to speak. He was near tears

by the end of his statement.

“Sometimes all these debates we have here are just caused by

politics. Now, if we were to speak of ancestral domains... if we

were to speak of Huyucto, this is where my grandfather, Ubbang,

is buried. His kinnaba (fallowed swidden fields or former camote

swiddens) are here in Gisgisan and Pallunan. They did not reach

Yutuyot. It makes me sad that people who are far from these

places are trying to dictate on me and tell me that what I am

saying here is unacceptable. So hopefully, those of us who are

living here and who are affected, wherever it is we want this

[boundary] to go, that’s where it should go.”

The Kayapa officials asked to be able to speak with the gathering

without the NCIP officers mediating. They took the map with them and

laid it on the ground in the middle of a tight circle of standing men and

women. The mayor confronted some of the Lusod men that he knew

personally, asking them why they should be part of Kabayan’s territory,

when they pay their land tax declarations to the municipality of Kayapa.

One man implied that the mayor had ulterior motives and concerns

when he pointedly said:

“As I understand it, according to [NCIP] explanations, elections,

internal revenue allotments, and land tax declarations will not

be affected [by the IPRA]. I too want to have all the properties of

my ancestors included in the area that is going to get an ancestral

domain title already.”

However, the mayor was not content with this explanation. He

repeated the ideal of Kalanguya unity:

“Here is my plan: Lusod, Tawangan, and Balite, let us declare

them as ancestral domain of the Kalanguya… All we lack is

funding! We could have these areas surveyed. Let’s just have it

funded.”

He reasoned further:

“Before it was the DENR… This NCIP was not around yet. The

law of the NCIP is new. So this new law of the NCIP is supposed

perez 53-86.pmd

70

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


to correct the law of the DENR. According to the law of the DENR,

we are all squatters here in the Philippines. What they want is for

all these areas [of ours] to be forest portions [sic]. What I would

like to say is that that CADT (of Kabayan) cannot be approved

because there are people protesting it… So what we should do in

this settlement is follow the will of the majority. If we allow

them to exclude us, then we Filipinos will be lost again! What

that means is that they are withholding our rights from us. Then

there may as well be no CADT if that’s the way it’s going to be!”

Even if the mayor’s line of reasoning was rather sketchy, his

statements brought up two issues underlying the implementation of the

IPRA. First of these is the proliferation of overlapping land tenure

instruments and physical boundaries. 19 The IPRA makes provisions for

instances where ancestral domain/land claims conflict with land titles

and other classifications of land. However, the law itself does not take

into account the place of these other, pre-existing land tenure

instruments in the lives of ili-based indigenous peoples. Neither does

the law take into account the involvement of ili-based indigenous peoples

in local politics, and the stakes and alliances that they build therein.

Consequently, the linkages and relationships between ili-based

indigenous peoples, their elected local government officials, and the

normative orders in which they operate arise as unanticipated

complications in the implementation of the IPRA, which the NCIP

officers are forced to contend with.

The second issue that the mayor touched upon was the ongoing

negotiation of boundaries around maintaining cultural difference while

belonging to a nation-state. Furthermore, the mayor of Kayapa and the

NCIP officers find that they must construct and re-construct the

boundaries between their indigenous identity, their loyalty to the ili

and to their people, and their positions as representatives of the

Philippine government—much like the indigenous intelligentsia did in

the newly independent Philippine Republic. The contemporary need

for the legal recognition of indigenous peoples’ rights suggests that,

aside from their continuing insecurity of tenure, the equal footing among

fellow Filipinos so desired by indigenous Cordillerans continues to

elude them. 20 The participation of professional indigenous persons in

this process can be seen two ways. One, they perform a delicate balancing

act between membership in indigenous communities and their

embodiment of the nation-state; or, two, they stride with confidence

across two planks of power of indigenousness and politics, using this

positionality to influence local-level decision-making and redefine or

reconfigure social as well as physical boundaries. 21

One man from Lusod addressed himself to the mayor:

perez 53-86.pmd

71

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Mayor, there is something I would like to explain to you,

something which hurts me and hurts my heart. Now we have a

program for having our land titled… It’s in your hands too, Mayor,

because you are here as a government official. If for example this

(claim to our) territory is not fulfilled, and you do not see what is

right, the people that are here on this side will be hurt. And these

hard feelings will be planted inside and it will not end. It will be

passed on until the next generations. We are here now so we can

all understand each other.

At dusk a decision was finally reached. The disputed area was to

be excluded from the claims of both Kabayan and Kayapa until the

hearing officer of the NCIP would reach a decision. The municipal mayor

muttered bitterly that the hearing officer was an Ibaloy, implying that

he did not trust the officer to be objective in his decision. Similar

exclusions were made in subsequent boundary negotiations between

Kabayan and other neighboring municipalities. The pressure of textual

discipline also came to bear on this ADBR. The end result of this

negotiation was a written document attesting to the sought-after

temporary agreement and signed by the indigenous peoples present,

including the municipal mayor and other government officials.

The claims to Kalanguya unity bring us back to the question of

identity as a key factor in the interface between indigenous government

representatives and ili-based indigenous people. When does it count

and how is it brought to the fore during interactions? The case of the

Kalanguya in Kabayan also brings to the fore the ways in which

indigenous government representatives and intelligentsia influence the

shape of claims, and how processes unfold at the level of the ili. In this

light, I will describe the background and nuances of the Kalanguya

claim.

Whither the Kalanguya ancestral domain?

The foregoing discussion on the ADBR concerns the Kalanguya village

of Lusod, Kabayan municipality. Tawangan, the main field site for my

study, is another Kalanguya village adjacent to Lusod, and also within

the political-administrative boundaries of Kabayan. Like the people of

Lusod, the Tawangan Kalanguya have been at the center of a tug-ofwar

of boundaries, this time between the municipality of Kabayan and

the municipality of Tinoc, Ifugao Province. It took many negotiations

between Tinoc and Tawangan before the boundaries were settled.

Another event in the process of titling Kabayan’s ancestral domain

demonstrates the tensions between Kalanguya communities caught up

perez 53-86.pmd

72

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


in these negotiations. In August 2004, engineers of the NCIP had traveled

to Tawangan to set down the first boundary monument for Kabayan. A

contingent from Tinoc walked to Tawangan to protest on the grounds

that the people who really mattered, both government officials and

certain elders from Tinoc, were not present when a memorandum of

agreement had been drafted, thereby allowing the monumenting to

proceed. Therefore, by their account, the memorandum was not valid

and the monumenting should be stopped.

When they arrived, the engineers and a few Tawangan men had

already set out to find the correct spot for the first marker. The Tinoc

contingent and the leaders in Tawangan gathered in the house of the

barangay chairperson. Time and again, during this meeting, the local

government officials from Tinoc warned that the Kalanguyas would be

a minority once more in the ancestral domain of the Kabayan Ibaloys.

One leader from Tinoc asked why Tawangan and Lusod wanted to be

part of Kabayan, when on the other hand, they would call for an elder

from Tinoc if they needed them to officiate traditional Kalanguya rituals

or to mediate in tongtongan? Did it not make more sense then for them to

be part of the Tinoc ancestral domain, with their fellow Kalanguya? Mt.

Pulag was also brought into the discussion again. Local government

officials from Tinoc insisted that Mt. Pulag should belong to the

Kalanguyas, because they lived closest to it. According to them, whoever

could manage Mt. Pulag would become rich. For once Kalanguya could

be wealthy in their own territory, they said. As they debated back and

forth, the engineers completed the first marker, not knowing of the

confrontation that was taking place in the village.

The Kalanguya of Tawangan admit that they are closely related by

consanguinity and affinity with the Kalanguya of Tinoc. One barangay

official from Tawangan has land and a house in Tinoc, where her

children go to school. One of the municipal officers of Tinoc is the son of

one of the respected elders of Tawangan. In turn, his father tends his

livestock in pasturelands on the boundary between Tinoc and

Tawangan. Several such relationships exist between the Kalanguya

residents of each village.

However, the Tawangan and Lusod Kalanguya explain that they

chose to be part of Kabayan because, according to them, it was the

Ibaloys from Kabayan that extended basic services and development to

them, and not their fellow Kalanguyas from Tinoc. The Kalanguya are

known among politicians to be block voters, meaning that they agree

among themselves to vote for the same candidate. Because of this

reputation, local Ibaloy politicians from Kabayan have nurtured patronclient

relationships with the Kalanguya in the outlying villages of their

municipality. Therefore, while indigenous identity was a major factor

in negotiations, it was politics and matters of governance that played a

decisive role and not kinship or common ancestry.

perez 53-86.pmd

73

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Urban-based, Kalanguya indigenous intelligentsia lead the

opposition to the inclusion of Tawangan and Lusod in the Kabayan

claim. Babette Resurreccion, in a paper that explores the intra-ethnic

conflict between the Ikalahan in Imugan, Nueva Vizcaya and the

Kalanguya Tribal Organization, “rejects the easy explanation of identity

incorporation as the result of all-encompassing elite control within social

groups” because it neglects “the phenomenon of sub-altern agency”

(Resurreccion 1998, 107). 22 I would argue that in the case of the

Tawangan Kalanguya and their contested claims, it is necessary to look

at both elite influences and local decisions. A focus solely on agency

within the ili would present an incomplete account of how Kalanguya

unity is configured and contested among different actors, and would

obscure the linkages and relationships that exist between the ili and the

urban-based elite. 23

For example, in the Lusod-Balite ADBR described above, one young

man mentioned a conversation with an “attorney.” The attorney referred

to here is based in La Trinidad and holds a position in the provincial

government. He is part Kankana-ey and part-Kalanguya. According to

him, he identifies more closely with the Kalanguya. He is respected in

Kalanguya communities because of his educational attainment, his

career in the public sector, and his position as a decision-maker in

government. When local government officials from distant Kalanguya

villages have reason to travel to La Trinidad, or legal cases they have to

attend to, they seek his advice, which he gives freely. Occasionally he

travels to some Kalanguya ili to visit distant relatives, but also to hold

meetings with local Kalanguya politicians. The attorney is one of the

leaders who holds on to a dream of a united Kalanguya territory. He

said that they came to this vision out of the shared observation among

other Kalanguya intelligentsia that, “Wherever they are, Kalanguya are

always associated with poverty” and thus they saw a need to create a

stronger, more visible Kalanguya constituency and conceived of a

territory in which Kalanguya would be the majority, rather than the

invisible, silent minority.

The decision of the Tawangan Kalanguya to remain within the

ancestral domain of Kabayan is a clear instance of ili-based agency

taking precedence over an elite agenda. However, as I mentioned above,

the decision was also influenced by past, seemingly innocuous

interventions of the politically elite Ibaloy, in the form of the delivery of

basic services. In turn the Kalanguya intelligentsia, composed of political

leaders and public officials in local and provincial government units

continued to push “the dream of a Kalanguya province,” which has

now become the dream of a Kalanguya ancestral domain. In 1994, the

Kalanguya Tribal Organization sought assistance from the DENR in

processing an application for a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Claim,

under A.O. No. 2, series of 1993. However, this application was rejected

perez 53-86.pmd

74

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


because the DENR found the area being claimed too large to be effectively

managed under a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Claim. In 1996, the

officers of the Kalanguya Tribal Organization drafted a resolution

requesting the drafting of a bill in Congress for the creation of a

Kalanguya sub-province. The resolution was given to five congressmen

who represented the five provinces that encompass Kalanguya

territories namely, Benguet, Nueva Ecija, Nueva Vizcaya, Pangasinan,

and Ifugao. This proposal too, was shelved (Resurreccion 1998, 111-

112).

When the IPRA was enacted, the Kalanguya elite saw in it another

avenue through which they could try to attain their dream of an officially

recognized Kalanguya homeland. However, an ancestral domain claim

that unifies all Kalanguya territories has not come to fruition. Kalanguya

leaders explained that this was partly due to a lack of funding with

which to put plans in motion. Furthermore, any attempts to make such

a sweeping claim have been precluded by the ancestral land and

ancestral domain claims made by municipalities and/or indigenous

peoples’ organizations. Thus, the inclusion of Tawangan and Lusod in

the claim of Kabayan would effectively undercut the plans for the

consolidation of all Kalanguya land. Attempting to counter this, a

number of the Kalanguya leaders convinced other prominent, locally

based Kalanguya to block the resolution of boundary conflicts being

mediated by the NCIP. This counter-move was demonstrated at the

Lusod-Balite ADBR, when the mayor and vice-mayor of Kayapa

addressed themselves to the gathering and to the NCIP officers. 24

The consolidated Kalanguya ancestral domain is, to a certain

degree, consonant with the definition of ancestral domain embedded in

the IPRA. However, the expanse of the domain across five contiguous

provinces spreads far beyond the ways in which the Kalanguya

traditionally conceived of their territory. Only two generations ago,

Kalanguya landscapes were dominated by swidden fields, which attest

to a far less sedentary way of life, and which also suggest shifting,

rather than permanent, boundaries.

This dream of a united Kalanguya people living in a territory

defined as Kalanguya has affected the ili-based indigenous peoples in

unexpected ways. The insistence of the elite leaders and politicians on

unification has resulted instead in the exclusion of small communities

from other ancestral domains that sought to encompass them. Although

these other ancestral domains can be faulted for following

administrative boundaries, rather than indigenous ones, ili-based

Kalanguya saw their inclusion as a guarantee of legal ownership over

their land. Those who ended up excluded as a result of the protestations

of the Kalanguya leadership feel as though they have been cast aside or

dispensed with. One Kalanguya woman who lives in an area excluded

from the Kabayan ancestral domain laughed resignedly: “That’s not

perez 53-86.pmd

75

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


good. They just threw us down like playing cards.” Their exclusion

from ancestral domains has made them less visible than ever.

When negotiations have ended and people have returned to their

homes in the ili, they talk about how the new process of fixing boundaries

is splitting Kalanguya families apart. This is a different view from that

taken by the intelligentsia. The latter view the present situation of the

Kalanguya as that of a fractured, invisible, and voice-less society. To

remedy this, they want to create boundaries that will unify Kalanguya

territory. On the other hand, the Kalanguya on the ground experience it

in reverse. While they see the IPRA as offering the guarantee of titled

land, they also feel that the implementation of the IPRA and the

delineation of new boundaries is creating friction and fissures among

Kalanguya, where there were no such issues in the past. For them, the

IPRA affords both a threat to their sociality as Kalanguya as well as a

guarantee of their continued and rightful occupation of their lands.

NCIP positionality

Having looked at some of the ways in which the IPRA is implemented

at the interface, I would now like to return to the positionality of NCIP

officers and how they influence the assertion of indigenous rights and

claims among ili-based indigenous people. As was observed in the

interface, NCIP officers, ili-based indigenous peoples, and indigenous

individuals in government are enmeshed in the implementation process.

The negotiations that would come to bear were often those that

took place between indigenous politicians and government officials at

the municipal and barangay levels. Their involvement both hindered

and aided the NCIP in meeting its targets. Local government officials

extended assistance to the NCIP by sometimes contributing funds out

of municipal budgets for transportation and food for participating elders

and community members. However, in many instances negotiations

remained at a deadlock precisely because local politicians refused to

compromise. The NCIP officers would often remind local indigenous

government officials that the residents, led by their elders, should

negotiate among themselves. But they soon realized that indigenous

politicians in Benguet each had their own set of elders, to whom they

would turn for their convincing powers at the local level. 25

Within local politics, the NCIP officers were by turns praised and

maligned by other indigenous intelligentsia holding public office. They

were praised for their understanding of indigenous processes and life

ways, since they themselves are indigenous. On the other hand, they

were also frequently accused of confusing and manipulating ili-based

indigenous peoples unfamiliar with the law and the legal processes

entailed in the IPRA’s implementation.

perez 53-86.pmd

76

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


The positionality of the NCIP as an organization has interesting

links back to the history of the American colonial period. First, it parallels

the functions of the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes, and thus, second,

it perpetuates the reified divide between Christian lowlanders and non-

Christian uplanders, except that now the uplanders are also Christian.

Finally, the NCIP is processing claims that are rooted in the American

period, case in point Kabayan. Not only does the NCIP configure the

Cordillera region as the natural and rightful territory of the uplanders,

just as the Americans did, it is also faced with claims to ancestral

domains that are based on colonial municipal boundaries, rather than

on indigenous conceptions of territorial boundaries.

The IPRA’s reification of indigenous ancestry and knowledge does

not take into account the fact that the elders of today inherited their

knowledge from their own elders who lived during the American period.

Seen this way, it is no longer surprising that the elders of Kabayan

identified American municipal boundaries when they were asked to

delineate Kabayan’s territory. Prior to the American administration it

was unlikely that boundaries were traditionally conceived of or defined

as such. American planners drew municipal boundaries around their

perceptions of “geographic and ethnic factors,” lumping together

previously scattered and independent settlements into a single

administrative entity identified under one name, such as the

Municipality of Kabayan.

The positionality of the individual NCIP officers shifts in relation

to the actors that they face. Based on the foregoing discussion, we can

come to the following conclusions about how individual positionalities

affect the IPRA’s implementation: First, the officers of the NCIP work

under temporal discipline and pressure to meet targets. They have to

comply with deadlines, donor policies, and project cycles. Thus, in spite

of their primary role as facilitators of a process, they tend to push for

decisions on the ground. This influence that they exert on ili-based

indigenous peoples is done more with regard to the interests of donors

and the NCIP’s own deadlines and system goals 26 than with the interests

of the peoples whose rights they are meant to protect. The power to exert

influence stems in part from their role as representatives of the state. For

instance, in the ADBR described above, the NCIP officers influenced

the communities concerned to temporarily abrogate a decision already

reached by the ili-based indigenous peoples. This in itself is an

imposition of power that is tantamount to the IPRA’s intended function

as an instrument of empowerment for indigenous people.

Second, the NCIP officers constantly balance between the “we” of

indigenous peoples, and the “us” of government officials. They

frequently express pride in their indigenous roots, and in the

commonalities shared across indigenous boundaries. For example, at

the ADBR described above, they proudly explained to me, the outsider,

perez 53-86.pmd

77

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


that five languages were being spoken at the ADBR, and still people

understood what was being said in each language. Their own

indigenous positionality is a double-edged blade. While it gives them

access to relationships within the ili and to a tentative brotherhood/

sisterhood, it also places them in an awkward position when they are

accused of misunderstanding local contexts. As government officials, it

sometimes becomes necessary for them to overlook local contexts in

order to meet national goals. Furthermore, their leadership differs greatly

from the traditional, ili-based leaders of the past.

Ethnography on the different indigenous groups of the Cordillera

show that elders and/or community leaders rarely performed their

duties as full-time, remunerated jobs, or made decisions pertaining to

community matters and disputes individually. In the past they tended

fields and livestock, went hunting, and did work just like the rest of the

community. They responded to community matters as the need arose,

and acted as members of a council. Compensation came mainly in the

form of meat, butchered and distributed among council and community

members according to the occasion and decision at hand. Furthermore,

the elite were expected to perform prescribed rituals in order to gain

stature in the community. As leaders they were expected to have certain

skills and qualities such as the ability to remember people’s genealogies,

to demonstrate diplomacy, articulacy, and courage. 27 By contrast,

indigenous individuals in government are removed from the daily life

of the communities they originate from, and the communities they work

with. Their work lives are dominated by the temporal and textual

disciplines of their positions.

This brings me to my final point about NCIP positionality: the

“us” of government officials. The work of implementing the IPRA does

not take place in an indigenous world or in an administrative world of

its own, separate from other implementation regimes of the national

government. It would be interesting to go deeper into how politics reign

in ancestral domains and how political alliances or feuds influence

funding, implementation, and resistance on regional and national levels,

and the relationships that are maintained between the NCIP and the

national government. At almost every turn, the NCIP officials contend

with conflicting policies, laws, and interests of various government

agencies and politicians.

Conclusion

As the foregoing discussions have shown, the IPRA renders visible the

ongoing tension in indigenous self-determination in which belonging

“becomes both a goal to strive for and one to resist” (Rosaldo 2003, 3). I

will now return to the questions posed at the beginning of the paper:

perez 53-86.pmd

78

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


How is the IPRA transforming the ways in which indigenous peoples

make claims to land and resources? What roles do indigenous

government representatives from various agencies play in these

transformations? Is indigenous identity a key factor in the interface of

government representatives and indigenous communities? If it is, when

does it count and how is it brought to the fore during interactions?

People travel across distances to witness or be part of IPRA’s

implementation. Not only do the members of the Commission have to

travel to implement it but it also has the power to summon people

because of the guarantee of a land/domain title. The assumption is that

the IPRA would give people security by issuing land titles to groups

over areas that were formerly classified as public land. However, it has

also created insecurity and fissures in indigenous groups such as the

Kalanguya.

Ili-based indigenous people asserted their knowledge of and rights

to boundaries by invoking pathways used by ancestors, burial places of

ancestors, inherited farmlands, water sources, forests, former sites of

swidden fields, and hunting areas. This shows that indigenous

communities negotiate the affordances that they can activate at the sites

of state-created boundaries, not to revive the past, but to secure for

themselves the bases of their existence. On the other hand, indigenous

government officials made statements and claims of a different nature.

They spoke of ancestral domains in terms of national law and in the

general context of a nation-state. The Kalanguya intelligentsia and

public government officials invoked Kalanguya sovereignty and unity

as well as national sovereignty and the place of the Kalanguya in the

nation. This rhetoric was put forward as a means to protest other claims

that they thought to be engulfing Kalanguya territory, and to press for

their envisioned Kalanguya domain.

However, the territorial boundaries that correspond with the social

identity ones can be, and are crossed, all the time. Thus, while some

actors will be concerned with the imposition of boundaries, others will

be looking for loopholes in them. Through their actions, people create

and take advantage of affordances that arise out of the boundaries,

treating the latter more as conjunctions than as barriers. Thusly,

indigenous identity in people’s daily lives is not exactly concurrent

with the IPRA’s definition of indigenous peoples, which binds identity

to land and homogenous communities. While the connection between

land and identity is partly correct, the IPRA fails to address the fact that

being indigenous is often brought to the fore as something with political

meaning, and not just meanings of affinity, consanguinity, or

placedness.

The rise of a class of educated and politically active indigenous

elite has positive and negative aspects to it. On the one hand, as I will

show here, the visions of 21st century indigenous leaders tend to be

perez 53-86.pmd

79

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


divorced from local needs and realities. On the other hand, they are

instrumental in the maintenance of local control over vital resources.

Furthermore, because of the presence of a relatively large number of

indigenous intelligentsia in the Cordillera Administrative Region, they

have managed to protect the interests of indigenous people far more

effectively than in other parts of the Philippines, where indigenous

peoples have virtually no voice in governance. This case of indigenous

dominance in their own territories is unique to the Cordilleras in the

Philippine context. The emergence of an indigenous elite with a stake

in governance has given form to a tension between a struggle for

indigenous self-determination on the one hand, and a desire for

recognition and support from the state on the other. It is interesting to

note that the emphasis of the NCIP on indigeneity reflects the same

reification or divide championed by Spanish and American colonizers,

and that indigenous leaders today echo similar essentializing

sentiments regarding particular attributes that make interaction among

indigenous peoples “different.” Identity and positionality as indigenous

individuals or as representatives of the state are boundaries that can lie

dormant, and that may be activated by actors when involved in

negotiations.

While being indigenous is posed as the reason people understand

each other at provincial and local levels of governance, indigenous

people themselves frame conflict in terms of their different ethnic

identities and places of origin. “Indigenous” as a general category forms

part of today’s pan-Cordilleran unified identity. However,

indigenousness or ethnic identity as a specific category is itself a shifting

social boundary among indigenous intelligentsia who have made a

choice to be known as such and to remain as such, and who constantly

re-draw the line between insider or outsider, and included or excluded,

within the context of a modernizing state’s definition of bounded

categories of beneficiaries of indigenous rights.

This paper is a revised edition of a chapter in the author's forthcoming doctoral

dissertation, written for the Faculty of Social Sciences, Leiden University, the

Netherlands. The research for this paper was carried out while the author was a

Research Affiliate of the Cordillera Studies Center at the University of the Philippines

Baguio.

perez 53-86.pmd

80

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


NOTES

1. Magannon (1984, 244 as refered to in Finin 2005, 301, n.2) interprets

the ili as more than merely a village. He describes it as the “permanent

home of people and spirits embodying both familial and religious affections

and loyalty”. Thus, the ili is a place of origin as well as the place in which

identity and relationships with the human and non-human environment

develop (Ingold 2000).

2. Indigenous elite in the Cordillera are not necessarily materially

wealthy, but they are educated and have access to powerful networks in

politics and business. Some, but not all, may also fit into indigenous

conceptions of elite in terms of possessing land passed down through the

generations, or descending from families remembered for performing

prestige rituals in their respective communities.

3. By saying that members of indigenous communities are ili-based, I do

not mean to say that they are bound to the physical space of their homevillages.

Ili-based indigenous persons reside and work in their home-villages

but they are also mobile and may travel regularly to municipal and urban

centers to visit relatives, or to carry out government and business

transactions.

4. Influential member of the Philippine Commission and also Secretary

of the Interior, which oversaw the Bureau of Non-Christian Tribes. For

details of Worcester’s part in Philippine American colonial history, see Fry

(1983) and Finin (2005).

5. Thus, the Ifugao subprovince, which was created from Nueva Vizcaya,

was for the ‘Ifugao tribe’, Kalinga was created for the ‘Kalinga tribes’, Benguet

was for the ‘Benguet Igorots’, and so on.

6. The Mountain Province was later split into several provinces, the

boundaries of which underwent repeated re-delineation under subsequent

Philippine government administrations. The Cordillera Administrative

Region was created through Executive Order 220 in 1987 and includes the

provinces of Benguet, Mountain Province, Ifugao, Kalinga, Apayao, Abra,

and Baguio City.

7. For discussions on the origins and the implications of this prejudice,

see Scott 1993 and Bacdayan 2001.

8. For a colorful and interesting debate on the present-day implications

of this prejudice, see the debates on these two blogs:

<http://philippinecommentary.blogspot.com/2007/08/are-ilocanospampangos-tagalogs_19.html>

<http://igorotblogger.blogspot.com/2007/09/links-good-reads.html>

9. As defined in the IPRA, “Indigenous Cultural Communities/

Indigenous Peoples . . . refer to a group of people or homogenous societies

identified by self-ascription and ascription by others, who have continuously

lived as organized community on communally bounded and defined

territory, and who have, under claims of ownership since time immemorial,

occupied, possessed and utilized such territories, sharing common bonds of

language, customs, traditions and other distinctive cultural traits, or who

have, through resistance to political, social and cultural inroads of

colonization, non-indigenous religions and cultures, become historically

perez 53-86.pmd

81

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


differentiated from the majority of Filipinos. ICCs/lPs [Indigenous Cultural

Communities/Indigenous Peoples] shall likewise include peoples who are

regarded as indigenous on account of their descent from the populations

which inhabited the country, at the time of conquest or colonization, or at

the time of inroads of non-indigenous regions and cultures, or the

establishment of present state boundaries, who retain some or all of their

own social, economic, cultural and political institutions, but who may have

been displaced from their traditional domains or who may have resettled

outside their ancestral domains” (R.A. 8371, Chapter 2, Section 3, pg 3).

10. At the time of fieldwork, some of the officers of the NCIP had been

absorbed from the now-defunct Office of Northern Cultural Communities,

a government agency established under former President Corazon Aquino

that carried out a mandate also similar to that of the Bureau of Non-Christian

Tribes. The focus of the ONCC’s programs in the Cordillera region was on

health care, and the staff that had been absorbed into the NCIP were trained

as nurses or health workers. Thus the tasks that fell to them as officers of the

NCIP were beyond their professional capabilities, such as facilitating

negotiations, documenting genealogies, kinship patterns, and cultural

practices, and drafting legal documents. Many of them pointed out to me

that they had to adapt quickly in spite of a lack of training, as their positions

in the NCIP were their “bread and butter.”

11. An officer of the Commission said this during an Ancestral Domain

Boundary Resolution, which is described in detail in the next section of this

paper. The officer was addressing a gathering of ili-based indigenous people

who were negotiating the boundaries of their territories. Quotations from

statements made by actors in the field have been translated from Ilocano,

Ibaloy, or Kalanguya by the researcher with assistance from Violeta Miranda,

Violy Tinda-an, and Julius Bac.

12. These figures are based on a survey of 10,509 households asked to

identify their mother tongue. At the time of fieldwork this was the most

recent data available on ethnic divisions in Kabayan, based on language.

13. Ancestral domains are considered to be owned communally by an

entire indigenous cultural community. Ancestral lands are owned privately

by indigenous individuals and/or clans.

14. The decision of the hearing officer would be taken as final, unless

any of the parties would decide to take the case to the Court of Appeals, a

drawn-out and expensive process.

15. Babadac is a small settlement of Kalanguya vegetable farmers in the

municipality of Kabayan. It is also the location of the DENR forest rangers’

station and one of the popular entry points for hikers into the Mount Pulag

National Park.

16. Tongtong is the public settlement of disputes presided over by

respected village elders.

17. The burial sites of these ancestors may date back to the end of the

1800s.

18. The indigenous laws and practices that are considered “customary”

and “traditional” in the 21st century may have been altered by the interference

of American administrators, who appropriated customary laws in order to

meet their objectives to end inter-village warfare, headhunting, and other

forms of conflict that threatened their civilizing mission and the stability of

perez 53-86.pmd

82

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


their administration. For historical accounts of the appropriation of

customary law by American administrators, see Finin (2001 and 2005), Fry

(1983), and Jenista (1987). For a comparative analysis of the practice of

customary law in contemporary times, see Perez (2007a).

19. I discuss the proliferation of social and physical boundaries in the

discourse of indigenous peoples’ rights in Perez (2007b).

20. For further arguments along these lines, see also Bacdayan (2001).

21. I am indebted to Sheilla Marie Dasig for this insight in her close

reading of an earlier version of this chapter.

22. However, in seeming contradiction of her own arguments,

Resurreccion’s paper relies heavily on accounts written by Kalanguya

intelligentsia.

23. Not to mention that there are also elite intelligentsia within the ili,

and not just outside it. The ili is not a monolithic, homogenous entity at all.

24. In other ADBRs, it was also elected Kalanguya local government

officials that protested the ancestral domain claim of Kabayan. It is

interesting to note that protests against the inclusion of Tawangan and

Lusod in Kabayan were also voiced by ili-based Kalanguya elite who are

known not to be political allies of those leading the Kalanguya Tribal

Organization

25. In a meeting in which all the municipal mayors of Benguet were

invited to a forum with the NCIP, a staffer told them explicitly, “Please tell

your elders it’s alright to compromise. What usually happens at our

negotiations is that they refuse to budge until their mayor comes. In fact

they are the ones who should be making decisions according to tradition.”

For a policy discussion on the contemporary role of the council of elders in

the implementation of the IPRA, see Cordillera Highland Agrarian Resource

Management (CHARM) Project and Cordillera Studies Center (CSC) (2003).

26. System goals involve the preservation of an organization’s rules and

procedures, relationships of patronage, and systems of rank and

administrative order (Mosse 2005, 104).

27. The roles of the elders, recognized leaders, and elite individuals or

families have various nuances across the Cordillera region. The ways in

which these roles have been taken on and transformed, and the degree to

which they shape change in local communities has also varied greatly over

time. For examples of these nuances, influences, and transformations, see

Barton (1949, 1969), Jefremovas (2001), Lewis (1992), Moss (1920), Prill-Brett

(1987, 1992), Tapang (1985).

REFERENCES

Afable, Patricia O. 1989. Language, culture and society in a Kallahan

community, Northern Luzon, Philippines. PhD diss., Yale

University.

Bacdayan, Albert. 2001. Ambivalence towards the Igorots: An

interpretive discussion of a colonial legacy. In Towards

perez 53-86.pmd

83

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


understanding peoples of the Cordillera, vol. 1, 1-16. Baguio City:

Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines Baguio.

Barth, Fredrik, ed. 1994. Ethnic groups and boundaries: The social

organization of culture difference. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget.

_______. 2000. Boundaries and connections. In Signifying

identities, ed. A. Cohen, 17-36. London: Routledge.

Barton, Roy. 1949. The Kalingas. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

_______. 1969. Ifugao law, Berkeley: University of California Press.

CHARM and CSC. 2003. The role of council of elders in the

management of the domain: A policy dialogue. Unpublished

proceedings. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of

the Philippines Baguio.

De Raedt, Jules. 1991. Similarities and differences in life styles in the

Central Cordillera of Northern Luzon. In Profiles in cultural

evolution, ed. A. Terry Rambo and Kathleen Gillogly, 353-72.

Anthropological Papers No. 85. Ann Arbor: Museum of

Anthropology, University of Michigan.

Finin, Gerard. 2001. Indigenous institutions for governance in the

Cordillera and beyond: Requiem or reappraisal? In Towards

understanding peoples of the Cordillera, vol. 1, 28-39. Baguio City:

Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines Baguio.

_______. 2005. The making of the Igorot: Contours of Cordillera

consciousness. Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press.

Forbes, William. 1928. The Philippine Islands, 2 vols. New York:

Houghton Mifflin.

Fry, Howard. 1983. A history of the Mountain Province. Quezon City:

New Day.

Heaton, Celayne. 2001. Our differences don’t make a difference:

Practising ‘civil society’ in Nepal’s non-governmental sector.

PhD diss., University of London.

Ingold, Tim. 1992. Culture and the perception of the environment. In

Bush base: forest farm. Culture, environment and development, ed. E.

Croll, E. and D. Parkin, 39-56. London: Routledge.

_______. 2000. The perception of the environment. London: Routledge.

Jefremovas, Villia. 2001. In harmony with nature? Environmental

management and social change amongst the Sagada Igorots of

the Cordillera Central, Philippines. In Towards understanding

peoples of the Cordillera, vol. 2, 30-46. Baguio City: Cordillera

Studies Center, University of the Philippines Baguio.

Jenista, Frank. 1987. The white apos: American governors on the

Cordillera Central. Quezon City: New Day.

Kabayan Ancestral Domain Management Plan. 1999. 2 vols.

Kabayan, Benguet.

Keesing, Felix and Marie Keesing. 1934. Taming Philippine

headhunters: A study of government and cultural change in

perez 53-86.pmd

84

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM


Northern Luzon. London: George Allen.

Lewis, Martin. 1992. Wagering the land. Berkeley: University of

California Press.

Long, Norman. 2001. Development sociology: Actor perspectives.

London: Routledge.

Magannon, Esteban. 1984. Cognition of time, change and social

identity: Kalinga history and historical consciousness. In

History and peasant consciousness in Southeast Asia, ed. A. Turton

and S. Tanabe, 235-265. Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology.

Moss, Claude. 1920. Nabaloi law and ritual. University of California

Publications in American Archaeology and Ethnology 15: 207-

342.

Mosse, David. 2005. Cultivating development: An ethnography of aid

policy and practice. London: Pluto Press.

Perez, Padmapani. 2007a. Environmental stakes and legal pluralism

in the Philippines and Indonesia. In Cordillera in June, ed. B.

Tapang, 168-197. Quezon City: University of the Philippines

Press.

_______. 2007b. Making and breaking boundaries: Indigenous

peoples and natural resource management in the Philippines and

Indonesia. Asia Pacific Forum 36: 171-205.

Prill-Brett, June. 1987. Pechen: The Bontok peace pact institution. Baguio

City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the Philippines

Baguio.

_______. 1992. Ibaloy customary law on land resources. Working Paper

No. 23. Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the

Philippines Baguio.

Resurreccion, Babette. 1998. Imagining identities: Ethnicity, gender

and discourse in contesting resources. In People, power and

resources in everyday life: Critical essays on the politics of

environment in the Philippines, Babette Resurreccion and Edsel

Sajor, 89-134. Quezon City: Institute for Popular Democracy.

Rosaldo, Renato, ed. 2003. Cultural citizenship in Island Southeast Asia:

nation and belonging in the hinterlands. Berkeley and Los

Angeles: University of California Press.

Scott, William. 1993. Of Igorots and independence. Baguio City: ERA.

_______. 1977. The discovery of the Igorots: Spanish contacts with

the pagans of Northern Luzon. Quezon City: New Day.

Tapang, Bienvenido. 1985. Innovation and social change: The Ibaloy

cattle enterprise in Benguet. Social Science Monograph Series 5.

Baguio City: Cordillera Studies Center, University of the

Philippines College Baguio.

Wilson, Laurence. 1955. The nationalization of the Igorots. Journal

of East Asiatic Studies 5 (2): 1-38.

perez 53-86.pmd

85

1/27/2010, 2:39 PM

The Cordillera Review Volume 1 Issue 2

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?