Strengthening power from below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines
November 2015 Contact Christian Aid Philippines 2/F Manila Observatory Building Ateneo de Manila University LoyolaChristian Heights, Aid is Quezon a Christian City, 1108 organization that insists the Philippines Telephone:world can and+632 must 441-1117; be swiftly 4265921 changed to 23 to one where christianaid.org.uk/thephilippineseveryone can live a full life, free from poverty.
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List of acronyms 4
Introduction: Empowering communities towards resilience 5
1 Putting civil society and grassroots voices in spaces of governance 9
Claiming rights by amplifying community voice: FORGE 10 Community voices in national housing negotiations: PHILSSA and AKKMA 11 Civil society voices in global and national climate change negotiations: AK 13
2 Engaging civil society networks for building resilience 15
3 Recasting community organising for resilience 19
Rebuilding Mindanao through stewardship and interfaith work: SPI and UFS 20 Changing mindsets, transforming lives: Coastal CORE 23 Putting the spotlight on the family: FORGE 25
4 Turning markets into channels for resilience 27
Weaving their way through resilience: UPA and KABALIKAT 27 Reinforcing consolidators to uphold community resilience: Philnet 29
5 Accessing public finance for resilience building 32
Directing people’s funds towards coastal resource preservation: Coastal CORE 33 Claiming the nation’s purse for building resilience: SWP and ABI 34
6 Protecting the environment to build resilient communities 38
People’s movement against mining: ATM 38 Organising for our land: RWAN and MOFA 41
7 Learning for resilience 45
Endnotes 49
3 List of acronyms
ABI Alternative Budget Initiative ACED Advancing CSO Engagement in DRRM-CCA AK Aksyon Klima AKKMA Action for Preparedness to Calamities and Climate Change ATM Alyansa Tigil Mina BUB bottom-up budgeting CCA climate change adaptation CODE-NGO Caucus of Development NGO Networks CRFS climate resiliency field school DRRM disaster risk reduction and management FDI family development intervention FORGE Fellowship for Organizing Endeavors FPIC free and prior informed consent MDG Millennium Development Goals MinLand Mindanao Land Foundation MOFA Matabao Organic Farmers Association NCIP National Commission on Indigenous People NGO non-governmental organisation PCA Philippine Coconut Authority PhilDHRRA Philippine Partnership for the Development of Human Resources in Rural Areas Philnet Philippine Network for Rural Democratization and Development PHILSSA Partnership of Philippine Support Service Agencies PVCA Participatory Vulnerability and Capacity Assessment RWAN Rice Watch and Action Network SPI Socio-Pastoral Institute SWP Social Watch Philippines TULHOA Tarkum Upper Laguerta Homeowners Association UFS Ummah Fi Salam UPA Urban Poor Associates WMC Western Mining Corporation
4 Introduction: Empowering communities towards resilience
Poverty is complex. Its causes are systemic, often intertwined and span time. It is rooted in the past, exists in the present and is imminent in risks that have yet to arise. Poverty goes beyond external risks, such as material deprivation, poor governance, inequality and unfair markets, and includes internal risks, such as humiliation, lack of voice and confidence, powerlessness and physical weaknesses. At its core are the lack or misuse of power and unequal power relations within and among countries, groups and individuals. For Christian Aid, therefore, ‘poverty is disempowerment and the injustices that result [from it].’1
The nature of risks varies. Risks may be short-term or long-term; hidden or visible; sudden or slowly unfolding. They also differ across ecosystems. The risks faced by small islands may not necessarily be the same as those confronting uplands and urban areas. New risks emerge, while present risks constantly evolve as these interact with one another. Risks affect vulnerable communities and individuals in various ways, but the hardest hit are the most vulnerable, including indigenous communities, the marginalised urban poor and upland communities living in remote areas with distinct vulnerabilities.
The Philippines reflects the complexity of a multi-risk environment. It is exposed to multiple natural and physical hazards, as it lies just above the equator along the Pacific Ring of Fire, where many of the earth’s typhoons, volcanic eruptions and earthquakes occur. Systemic and internal risks also pose a threat to the development of its people. Centuries-old conflict in the southern Philippines between Moro (Muslims and indigenous people) and other faiths has marginalised the Moro and embedded feelings of resentment and isolation among them. Unfair market policies and lack of confidence have prevented small-scale Philippine producers from actively participating in the market and claiming their fair share of its benefits. The government’s push for corporate-led development of target economic investment areas and the powerlessness of indigenous communities to protect their ancestral domain jeopardise the country’s remaining farmlands and forestlands. Powerful elites continue to have a stronghold over national policies and decision-making spaces, stifling grassroots voices and limiting their opportunities to participate and influence these spaces.
The usual response of poor people to these risks revolves around survival or subsistence, especially since they have limited or no options, voice and opportunities to address the threats they are facing and reduce their vulnerability. Others have become resigned to their situation, lacking hope that their lives will improve, especially when they have been embroiled in a long history of neglect and abuse.
The uncertainties arising from past, present and future threats increase the urgency to put an end to power imbalances and transform structures, systems and internal vulnerabilities that continue to disempower poor people. Thus, ‘the question is no longer whether change is needed but what form that change must take.’2
Achieving such power transformation necessitates an approach that aims to help poor communities not only survive and subsist but also thrive. It involves empowering communities to be resilient to the risks brought about by a changing and challenging environment. This approach is not merely confined to building assets and diversifying income but further seeks to address external and internal causes of poverty and dynamic shocks and stress from the environment.
5 Building resilient communities entails a convergence of approaches that goes beyond disaster risk reduction and climate change adaptation to include community organising, livelihoods development, gender equality and accountable governance. Solely focusing on disaster preparedness is not sufficient to reduce people’s vulnerability to more systemic political, social and economic risks. In the same way, development work assumes that poverty occurs in a fixed setting and is therefore unable to anticipate changes brought about by hazards. In short, ‘promoting an insecure livelihood is no better than protecting an inadequate one.’3
Christian Aid blends all of these strategies in its resilient livelihoods framework, which is intended to guide vulnerable communities, as well as the organisations working with them, in understanding and managing the risks they are facing and finding ways to adapt to a seemingly unstable environment. A resilient livelihood, therefore, is ‘one that enables people to anticipate, organise for, and adapt to, change.’4 To achieve this, poor communities should be able to transform the way they make a living into one that could withstand the effects of uncertainties and risks, both known and unknown. They must have options and safeguards that allow them to adapt and maximise opportunities to improve their lives and reduce their vulnerability to shocks. A family that is dependent mainly on farming for income is easily weakened by pressures from drought and extreme, unpredictable weather changes unless it has crop insurance from government, support groups to provide technical inputs, or savings to invest in crop protection from hazards. Spare assets or ‘buffers’ are important, whether they are tangible, such as organic farming inputs and savings, or intangible, such as broad social capital, good health and strong self- identity, making the people better equipped to recover from the impact and adapt to their new environment. Vulnerable communities must also have a plan that takes into account anticipated threats, enabling them to handle the impact on their lives and livelihoods and recover immediately. Such plans would have to be adjusted through regular analyses of the changing dynamics of these threats.
Poor communities must have a fair and predictable share of the value of their work, not only because this is essential for their basic needs, but because it is their right as human beings. New models of economic development and new ways of influencing the market chain are needed to create greater opportunities for them to thrive. Apart from influencing the market to be pro-poor, people’s livelihoods must not compromise people’s health and well-being and natural and social resources. A livelihood activity that earns money but puts people’s lives at risk will not lead to resilience.
Christian Aid recognises that the need to pay attention to internal risks that impede the progress of poor communities is as important as addressing external risks. It believes in harnessing the ‘power within’ by strengthening the voice of poor communities to claim their rights and make duty bearers accountable to them. People must be mobilised to act collectively on critical issues affecting them and become responsible for their own development. Christian Aid helps them envision not just a life of subsistence and survival, but a life with dignity as well as personal, economic, political and social freedoms.
All these elements of Christian Aid’s resilience livelihoods framework are crystallised in the stories of its partners in the Philippines. Chapter 1 presents how the Partnership of Philippine Support Service Agencies (PHILSSA), Fellowship for Organizing Endeavors (FORGE) and Aksyon Klima (AK; ‘Action for Climate’) organised grassroots communities and civil society organisations to generate collective power that would make their minority voices be heard in governance spaces. This led them to tilt the power imbalance in these spaces and influence critical decisions that have an impact on them.
6 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines Chapter 2 shows the value of another collective initiative – civil society networks – in extending geographical and sectoral reach, scaling up advocacies and serving as a learning hub. The Caucus of Development NGO Networks (CODE-NGO) changed its practice and capitalised on its hierarchy and collective expertise and experience to address the risks faced by its members and the communities they are serving.
In Chapter 3, the stories of Socio-Pastoral Institute (SPI), Coastal CORE, Inc. (Coastal CORE) and FORGE recognise the value of collective power and its positive gains to the communities, yet at the same time understand that, in many cases, social gains are not felt or enjoyed by families and individuals. Filling in the gaps of the traditional community organising approach, SPI brought back the value of stewardship and harnessed the potential of interfaith work to transform individuals, families and the community. Coastal CORE addressed the isolation of a marginalised indigenous group by tapping its power within to access resources and maximise the available opportunities. FORGE focused on healing families as a strategy in building the resilience of communities.
The capacity to adapt and respond to risks is evident not only in the partners’ community organising strategies, but also in how they intervened in the market chain and collaborated with large commercial players to ensure livelihood stability for the people. Chapter 4 tells how the Philippine Network for Rural Democratization and Development (Philnet) introduced innovations to reduce the pressure and risks faced by woman weavers in marketing their product. Urban Poor Associates (UPA) helped transform urban poor communities from weak forces in the market to strong and respected minority players. The work of Philnet and UPA enabled grassroots communities to obtain their fair share for their labour and products and to protect themselves and their families from immediate and long-term threats.
Christian Aid partners in the Philippines have also transformed power relationships in the country’s public finances. Chapter 5 explains how Coastal CORE and Social Watch Philippines/Alternative Budget Initiative (SWP/ABI) used their good relationship with the government to advocate people’s voices in national and local budget planning, making these processes responsive to the people’s needs. What used to be mainly the domain of government leaders, economists and financial analysts has become a space where people could participate to claim their rights and make the duty bearers accountable for the decisions they make.
In the pursuit of economic growth, the environment and people’s health are often sacrificed. Chapter 6 describes the climate resiliency field school (CRFS), which Rice Watch and Action Network (RWAN) introduced after recognising the combined risks posed by extreme weather changes and synthetic farm inputs on the land and health of small-scale farmers. The school emphasised the importance of strong farmers’ organisations in accessing government support programmes. Through the CRFS, the vulnerability of small-scale farmers to climate change was reduced and their capacity to voice their farming concerns to the government was strengthened. Alyansa Tigil Mina (ATM; ‘Alliance to Stop Mining’) stood up for the cause of an indigenous group whose lives and land were threatened by the operations of an influential mining company. The experience of RWAN and ATM illustrates how thriving and resilient livelihoods could enhance, not compromise, the environment and people’s well-being.
The stories of Christian Aid partners in the Philippines demonstrate how learning is an essential core element of adaptability. Learning cuts across all the elements of the resilient livelihoods framework. The changing risk scenario and the uncertainty it brings require groups to challenge their practices and innovate their strategies, taking into account the uncertain, so that they could enhance the communities’ adaptability and responsiveness. Chapter 7 shares the story of
Introduction: Empowering communities towards resilience 7 Mindanao Land Foundation (MinLand) and how it imbibed a culture of learning in helping urban poor communities manage the multiple risks threatening them.
No single solution fits all problems. Depending on the context — the changes and complexity of risks — today’s solutions may not be applicable the following day. By enabling poor communities to analyse and understand the risks they are facing, they can anticipate and proactively address them, subsequently altering their actions to suit the prevailing conditions. In time, they will regain control of their lives. Since resilience looks at poverty in an ever-changing context, it will always be a work in progress and never a project.
This book is a compilation of stories from the ground presenting how Christian Aid and its partners have assisted communities in handling shocks and pressures and taking steps to thrive and live dignified lives. The strategies and ideas shown here are meant to guide and inspire others to pursue or even challenge the framework. What remains clear is the vision of Christian Aid to help individuals and communities gain ‘the power … to live with dignity, responding successfully to disasters and the opportunities and risks that they face.’5
8 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines 1 Putting civil society and grassroots voices in spaces of governance
Power imbalances – and the institutions and structures that perpetuate them – are difficult to change. Dominant elites will exert their influence and use their resources relentlessly to maintain the status quo of power and push weak communities into deep poverty. This is where community organising becomes critical. People who are not unified may be unable to challenge a system or an institution, an individual or a group that oppresses or ignores them. But when they organise themselves, arrive at a consensus and act collectively to challenge the power imbalance, the probability of realising their desired change is greater. Community organising, therefore, goes beyond simply mobilising people or registering organisations. It involves constant mentoring and guidance, facilitation and support to enable the local people to adapt and respond to the risks posed by systems or institutions and create a path for their empowerment. Grassroots and non- governmental organisations (NGOs) working together can help transform a minority voice into a strong, unified one that can potentially influence and direct institutionalised processes to work for the benefit of poor communities.
Poor people are vulnerable because they are exposed to external and internal risks that limit their space and options for improvement. These risks emerge from ‘structural sins’ that perpetuate and entrench discrimination and feelings of powerlessness and discouragement among poor communities. (The term ‘sin’ is used here to emphasise the cumulative effect of generations of systems and policies that promote injustice, and the accountability of the larger community, making it a collective sin.) They are also borne out of structural and institutional weaknesses that allow powerful groups and elites to unjustly control resources and people’s assets. Powerful individuals and groups are able to manipulate structures and institutions to seize more benefits from government services and exert their influence over decision and policy making processes, hindering chances of weaker groups to live a life with dignity.
Limited, non-functioning government structures that serve the interests of those in power aggravate poor people’s vulnerability and can disrupt whatever progress they have achieved in securing better lives for themselves. Opportunities for people’s organisations and grassroots communities to participate in crucial policy making processes that affect their lives are lacking or blocked by groups with vested interests. The state’s bureaucratic system hinders the government’s effective delivery of basic social services. Spaces for civil society groups to influence national development plans and budgets are constricted or dominated by a few influential individuals and groups.
While institutions and structures are largely accountable for creating risks and increasing vulnerability for many, they are not the sole cause and determinant of poverty. People’s ‘agency’ (that is, their individual power to change and influence structures and institutions) can come into play. The cases below show that people, with help from support groups, can act on opportunities and manoeuvre around these institutions and structures to advance their claims. Power relationships that have been unfavourable to poor communities can be transformed by empowering grassroots organisations to influence actions and decisions that have an impact on the public interest.
The cases in this chapter present how communities must not be simply resigned to their situation of vulnerability and instead do something to change it by demanding and effecting reforms in the system and tapping their power from within. What needs to be highlighted is the urgency and
9 necessity for NGOs and grassroots communities to empower and organise themselves and collectively study the power relationships closely and seize opportunities for advancing their claims.
Claiming rights by amplifying commmunity voice: FORGE
When 333 informal settler families from different parts of Cebu City were relocated to Sitio Laguerta in Barangay Busay, their living conditions changed, but did not necessarily improve. While they were spared the usual coastal hazards, they became vulnerable to landslides, falling rocks and fire. Basic social services and infrastructure were lacking. They had difficulty in getting electricity and resorted to costly illegal connections. Transportation was a problem, since only motorbikes for rent – shared by up to five passengers – could traverse rough roads, cross a creek and climb a steep slope to the settlement. Moreover, some parts of the roads were in poor condition and Carlito Amancio of UP LARGE, others were located in privately owned subdivisions, forcing a federation of four urban residents to take long diversions to reach school and the city poor organizations, presents centre. the petition to the local city government of Cebu City to People still identified strongly with their previous communities. improve essential services in Many would go to their areas of origin for livelihood and to vote. the Laguerta Resettlement. The families maintained their former social ties and structures, (Allan Vera) including their membership in their respective homeowner associations (Tarcom Upper Laguerta Homeowners Association [TULHOA], Tabarno Homeowners Association [TAHAS], Upper Laguerta Busay Homeowners Association [ULBHOA] and Sitio Legacy Community Homeowners Association [SILCHA]). These associations were responsible for making and enforcing rules in a community. Each of them had its own agenda, but this was not necessarily shared by the other associations. The people were organised, yet their voice was fragmented. They were immaterial to the barangay government, since they were not considered to be constituents.
To unify the four associations to work towards common concerns and agenda, FORGE initiated a Participatory Vulnerability and Capacity Assessment (PVCA), which was a community-orientated, rather than an organisation-orientated, activity. A community-based emergency response team called LEADERS was subsequently formed, with members from the four associations. Community issues and risks were identified and prioritised. Some of the issues included seeking access to private roads, asking the government to build roads and a bridge, and obtaining their own electric connection. The members recognised that linking their different advocacy agendas (land tenure, basic social services, housing needs, livelihoods) to disaster risk reduction was a non- controversial approach to gain the support of different interest groups.
FORGE facilitated study sessions to guide people in what government level and offices had mandate over which issues; what policies could be invoked; what policy proposals could be presented to which office; which officials could champion their cause; and who were their political allies and rivals. The members learned how to protect their advocacy agenda against clashing political parties in the city. The leaders’ negotiating skills were honed through tactics
10 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines sessions, which included role-playing exercises that made the leaders think how to respond to different risk scenarios.
TAHAS officers engaged in dialogue with the mayor and vice-mayor to negotiate the opening of access roads. TULHOA talked to subdivision homeowners and companies that would be affected by this road project, requesting them to allow bulldozers to pass through their areas. It also approached the electric company, subdivision homeowner associations and NGOs to arrange their own electric connection. LEADERS kept its identified champion in the city council updated on progress so that he could bring the community’s concerns to city offices and give the group advice on strategies moving forward. FORGE was aware that its role was only to support and provide linkages to LEADERS, allowing the group to be at the forefront of negotiations.
Two years later, the residents of Laguerta finally have their road, as the once-private roads are now open for them to use. Transportation has become easier, allowing people to market their goods at a lesser cost and reach hospitals sooner. Thirty electric posts have been installed, benefiting 170 families. There is now less risk of fire because the illegal connections have been removed. With a reliable source of electricity, people no longer have to pay hefty sums to private households and children are able to study at night. When a fire broke out recently, firefighters were able to reach the site on time.
The approach used by FORGE amplified the voice of the urban poor whose members were previously fragmented and not on good terms with the barangay government. Where barangay officials were open to dialogue and strong grassroots organisations were present, FORGE focused its support on building community capacity for participatory local governance processes.
In other cases, when the local government requested support in new communities, FORGE looked for existing community organisations to strengthen, in order to ensure the sustainability of their engagement with the local government even after FORGE had left the area. FORGE adapts its community organising strategy to the capacity of the grassroots sector and the political landscape.
Community voices in national housing negotiations: PHILSSA and AKKMA
We often witness scenes of urban informal settler families violently clashing with the city police and demolition teams during eviction operations. More often than not, these incidents end in casualties, family separation, forced transfer of people to another unsafe area and strained relationships between the government and the people. It is a failed cause for both groups, with the government failing to address the root cause of the urban poor’s tenure problems Representatives of urban poor families from various and relocated people losing organisations affected by typhoon Ketsana protest against the valuable physical, social and planned haphazard distant relocation plans of the Quezon City economic assets. government. (Glady Serrano)
1: Putting civil society and grassroots voices in spaces of governance 11 When tropical storm Ketsana hit major urban cities of Metro Manila in 2009, the precarious living conditions of families living near waterways caught worldwide attention, with national and international news highlighting the ineptness of the government’s disaster response. The government, mandated by the Urban Development and Housing Act of 1992, implemented a massive distant relocation of all informal settler families living in high-risk areas. This knee-jerk reaction was a top-driven decision made without any consultation with the families and their support groups. Stories of post-disaster relocation and displacement of poor communities from their land abound. Many of these relocations had been justified using the language and principles of disaster risk reduction. However, new risks have emerged as climate change is being used to rationalise the relocation of high-risk communities. But relocation should be recommended with caution, since it could have a negative impact, considering the other risks that come into play, such as people’s collective trauma and weakness, existing land conflicts and so on.6
Partnership of Philippine Support Service Agencies (PHILSSA) is a network of NGOs working to empower poor communities, especially in urban areas. It knew the government’s directive would increase the vulnerability of families, as many relocation sites were lacking in basic social infrastructure and services and were too distant from people’s livelihood sources. Past experiences had proven that preventing eviction by colliding head-on with government would not dissuade the latter from pursuing what it had been tasked to do. Neither would communities leave their homes without a proper resettlement site. PHILSSA thus had to adjust its strategy in engaging the government and communities by promoting dialogue and people’s planning processes to discuss proposals, challenge them and hopefully arrive at a mutual agreement.
With support from Christian Aid, PHILSSA facilitated the formation of Action for Preparedness to Calamities and Climate Change (AKKMA), a network of urban poor and small fisherfolk organisations in Metro Manila and adjacent provinces. This network strives to address eviction threats and danger areas by promoting people planning, dialogue with government and community plan proposals. AKKMA proposals do not only involve addressing tenurial security, but also include integrated and holistic plans for safe and secure settlements for informal settler families, sustainable livelihoods, and social services and safeguards.
Together with PHILSSA and AKKMA, community leaders discussed and negotiated with government their alternative settlement and housing proposals. Through such dialogue and advocacies, opportunities were opened for the people to pursue engagement with government agencies and officials both at the national and local levels. As a result, the president promised PHP50bn (US$1.1bn) spread over five years to finance high-density social housing projects for informal settler families living in waterways and other danger areas in Metro Manila. Community proposals to access the fund were submitted to government agencies, such as the Social Housing Finance Corporation and National Housing Authority, which then discussed, studied and addressed technical and legal issues. An expanded space for discussion, negotiation and joint planning was thus created where the informal settler families could bring their demands to the table and the government would identify the next steps with them.
Aware of their unsafe conditions, the families had been negotiating either on-site solutions or near-city relocation. But many of their proposals now consider high-density housing and usufruct arrangements after recognising the limited availability and high prices of land for social housing in-city or near-city. This reflects a change in the attitude and practices of the urban poor. Where they used to be highly confrontational when talking about relocation, now they sit down and listen to government, knowing that the issue is not housing alone, but also involves disaster risk reduction. With this softened stance, the community is open to dialogue and the possibility of
12 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines relocation. Their ability to speak the language of disaster risk reduction enables them to build their argument if they do not accept the relocation plan: Why remove us from a fire-prone area if you will just bring us to a flood-prone area? In the same way, the government, whose previous plans only considered massive distant relocations, also softened its position and agreed to consider and support alternative long-term housing solutions. Through the joint efforts of government, communities and NGOs, many of the community proposals aimed at providing safe and secure settlements for the affected vulnerable families and communities are being pushed forward.
As a result of its engagements and advocacies, AKKMA reached out to other communities with the same concerns about disaster risk reduction and management and climate change adaptation, especially safe and secure settlements. It has formed affiliate coalitions in six other regions of the country.
Informal settler families now have a stronger voice and control over processes and decisions that affect their lives, unlike their situation prior to 2009. A shift in the power relationship has seen the government recognising and respecting informal settler families as a rational, engaging and representative formation. The burden of risks no longer falls disproportionately on poor people but is shared and redistributed, as the government accepts the people’s housing plan, allocates funds for its implementation and opens spaces for dialogue with the people.
Civil society voices in global and national climate change negotiations: AK
Prior to 2008, civil society organisations were on the sidelines of climate change negotiations, acting as observers of the process and advisers to the delegation. The Philippine Government’s position in global climate change negotiations under the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) was also unclear. In 2008, civil society organisations in the Philippines decided to form a network called Aksyon Klima Pilipinas (AK; ‘Action for Climate’) that would monitor the UNFCCC negotiations and the country’s laws on climate change. In efforts to influence the negotiations, AK drafted its own position, in consultation with scientists, policy makers, civil society and grassroots communities, and submitted it to the government. This eventually became the backbone of the Philippine position at the 15th Conference of the Parties in Copenhagen in 2009.
Soon after, the government gave AK positions in the negotiation team after recognising civil society’s competence and expertise in climate change narratives. From the start, AK had been promoting the creation of spaces for civil society organisations to be a part of the national delegation and be involved in crafting government’s position in global climate change negotiations. It was intent on bringing the perspectives of people most threatened by climate risks into these spaces. This would allow the people to share power in national decision-making processes and give voice to the voiceless in global climate change negotiations that had been traditionally dominated by powerful states.
Knowing government’s predisposition to top-down policy making, AK made it clear to the government early on its intention of being a part of national climate change policy-making processes in order to ensure the policies would benefit the communities. It had wanted to contribute to the formulation of the Climate Change Act of 2009, but it was unable to, as the law was hurriedly drafted and approved by Congress for political reasons. As a result, the law had several gaps, notable of which was its lack of a financial mechanism. Still determined to influence the policies, AK became heavily involved in developing the law’s implementing rules and regulations called the National Climate Change Action Plan, which serves as the country’s
1: Putting civil society and grassroots voices in spaces of governance 13 blueprint for climate action until 2028. It was able to infuse the action plan with evidence and perspectives from the grassroots level and provide a climate lens for policies at the national level. Through AK, civil society organisations also secured a permanent position in the Climate Change Commission, the government body tasked to oversee and manage climate change concerns and negotiations in the country.
When discourse on climate justice began, AK and its members took the chance to advocate a state mechanism that would enable the country to accept climate funding. Studying the country’s bureaucratic system, it anticipated that government agencies would scramble to control the funds, which could make it difficult for civil society organisations and grassroots communities to access them. Thus, when the idea to legislate a People’s Survival Fund emerged, AK made sure civil society organisations would lead the process to prevent the law from becoming top- down and influenced by dominant political interests. The entire law was debated, drafted and lobbied by civil society. When it was ratified, government allocated PHP1bn (US$21.8m) for its implementation in 2015. It was a major breakthrough for AK, whose main campaign was for government to allocate a budget over and above the income of local governments that would be used to build the resilience of vulnerable communities. Communities and civil society no longer had to wait for climate funding from developed countries to commence climate change plans. Civil society scored another achievement when it was allocated an influential post as member of the People’s Survival Fund board. This was a big step forward for climate change advocates, as they could push local government offices to prioritise climate change initiatives in their development plans and budget.
Gaining equal positions of power in national decision-making processes and having democratic control over state legal instruments have allowed civil society to overcome institutional forces that lock in vulnerability to many poor people and security to a few. AK admits that building the resilience of communities through climate change negotiations at the international and national levels has been challenging. Pressure from developed countries to constrain the space of civil society organisations in global discussions on climate justice has been strong and consistent since the start of negotiations. The Philippine Government sometimes yields to pressure by shifting back the role of civil society to that of adviser. Some state actors likewise feel civil society is strongly directing the country’s position in the negotiations. Faced with these challenges, AK explores alternative negotiation routes, such as technical working groups, to maintain its involvement.
From working on the sidelines, AK has been able to create and recreate spaces for civil society to influence the national position in global climate change negotiations where it is able to raise the concerns of communities vulnerable to climate risks. It shares control of state legal policies, directing these to benefit grassroots communities. It continues to call for climate action at the national level and climate justice at the international level. Climate change negotiations are a highly political process that may result in either maintaining or reinforcing the existing hegemony of dominant countries and control of democratic space by national elites. AK’s work has challenged these institutional and relational risks by giving vulnerable communities the space and legal muscle to face, manage and thrive amidst these risks. Although faced with considerable pressure to reduce its participation in global negotiations, AK continues to protect civil society’s space in the national governance system, giving voice to the voiceless. With such influence, however, how will AK ensure that civil society representatives will not get ‘drunk’ with the power they have? How will AK guarantee that they will remain accountable to their constituency?
14 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines 2 Engaging civil society networks for building resilience
Chapter 1 demonstrated how organising communities could significantly change power imbalances perpetuated by dominant institutions and structures and reinforced by internal weaknesses and vulnerabilities of grassroots communities. This chapter looks into another form of organising and collective – the civil society network – and how it is able to challenge unequal power relationships.
Civil society networks are of different types. Some are composed of like-minded groups that find solidarity in their aspiration, advocacy and practice. As in organising communities, network members come together to consolidate enough power to change a status quo that disempowers minority groups. Working in a collective extends the network’s geographical and sectoral influence. It allows the members to scale up their advocacies horizontally (across sectors, grassroots communities and civil society groups) and vertically (from the local to international levels). Civil society networks have a wider representation, since their members speak and act for various marginalised sectors (for example, small-scale farmers and fisherfolk, urban poor, poor women and children, and the elderly). With diverse experiences, they create the potential and space for engaging in collaborative work, exchanging capacities and resources, and disseminating lessons.
Other civil society networks bridge organisations belonging to different sectors, interest groups and stakeholders. They have an interesting mix of members, ranging from scientific and academic institutions to grassroots communities, local and national governments, and non-governmental organisations (NGOs). Given the differing mandates and ways of working of the members, these civil society networks are more challenging to manage yet they generate much learning. The depth of their insight and experience, notwithstanding the contradicting interpretations of realities among members, encourages information sharing through collaboration and dialogue. One can imagine the potentially rich knowledge produced from linkages among scientists, grassroots communities and civil society groups working on disaster risk reduction and management (DRRM) and climate change adaptation (CCA). There are broad opportunities to develop and implement evidence-based sound advocacy points. While this relationship may be tension-filled, especially when finding a common ground within a diverse range of ideologies, practices, systems and mandates, bridging networks and critical engagements can transform policies, structures and unequal power relationships, as the story below illustrates.
The series of strong disasters that have hit the Philippines in recent years left countless poor, vulnerable communities devastated. Gains from years of development work have been destroyed and steps to progress have retrogressed. The case of Caucus of Development NGO Networks (CODE-NGO) shows how civil society organisations have been able to address this threat by capitalising on the innate capacities and hierarchy of their networks. Composed of 12 national and regional networks of development organisations, CODE-NGO seeks to influence public policy, exercise transformative leadership and strengthen the accountability of its members for advancing development work in the Philippines. With vast experience in implementing programmes on livelihoods, education, peace building and other development sectors, its members have been able to establish their voice and influence in the government’s policy and decision-making processes. Because of its nature as a secondary- and tertiary-level network, CODE-NGO has created a huge impact, reaching remote places despite its limited direct engagement with the communities.
15 Of late, network members have been engaging in humanitarian work, responding to emergencies in their own communities. Usually, when a disaster struck one region, CODE-NGO members from other regions would ask how they could help. However, there was no institutionalised mechanism within CODE-NGO for coordinating humanitarian and disaster preparedness work. While its members knew they had the facility to do this, they had yet to learn as a network how to start it, how to carry out humanitarian work according to international standards and how to implement disaster preparedness programmes in a coordinated manner to avoid overlapping work and maximise resources to cover more areas.
External coordination mechanisms existed, such as the humanitarian clusters of the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, but these were partial to UN agencies and international NGOs and excluded Philippine development organisations from the collaboration. CODE-NGO was not blind to this power imbalance. While its members did not necessarily consider themselves as humanitarian or DRRM organisations, they were the first source of support sought by communities during calamities, since they were the only development groups working in the area. Hiring technical specialists to do the work was out of the question. To address this limitation, CODE-NGO sought to enrich its members’ capacities for humanitarian and DRRM work by building knowledge and expertise, and make their collective voices heard in international spaces.
At the same time that CODE-NGO members were building their capacities, Christian Aid was looking for ways to influence more civil society groups to bridge development work with humanitarian and DRRM initiatives. The urgency of addressing the multiple threats and uncertain futures facing poor communities pushed Christian Aid to broaden the geographical reach of its resilience programme. Christian Aid opted to engage and build the capacities of existing development networks for humanitarian and DRRM work, instead of forming new networks and bodies, by working with CODE-NGO, the Philippines’ biggest coalition of civil society groups, with more than 1,600 member NGOs, people’s organisations and cooperatives. Created specifically to widen the impact of civil society groups on national development, CODE-NGO was deemed the perfect channel for building resilient communities on a broad scale. Christian Aid envisioned a community of practice that could do DRRM work and engage with DRRM groups across all levels, as well as integrate disaster risk reduction and management with other sectors (such as health, livelihoods and education). Having a vast sectoral and geographical representation, CODE-NGO could access more spaces in government policy discussions and negotiations and increase the opportunities for Philippine development organisations to participate and be heard in international humanitarian coordination venues.
CODE-NGO found synergy between its members’ call and Christian Aid’s mission. This triggered the inception of the Advancing CSO Engagement in DRRM-CCA. Also called ACED Project, this initiative works around the belief that strategic and coordinated actions within and among civil society organisations and networks from the national to the local levels are essential in effecting change towards resilience. CODE-NGO developed regional CSO DRRM coordination hubs among its member networks to organise and coordinate their DRRM efforts as a coalition. This mechanism also functioned as an advocacy platform for NGOs to engage the national government in DRRM issues.
Resilience building should be advanced from a development perspective and supplemented by humanitarian and DRRM work because it addresses systemic and chronic sources of vulnerability. Here, the beauty of working with civil society networks becomes appreciated as one realises their potential impact on resilience work. Their members engage in various sectoral issues and with groups that are directly affected by disasters – environment, health, education, peace building,
16 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines women and indigenous people. Although they cover different sectors, their work is grounded in the common framework of sustainable development and integrated area development. Thus, when there were calls from Christian Aid and grassroots communities to engage in DRRM work, it was not difficult for them to integrate this into their sectoral programmes. CODE-NGO members recognised the advantages of reshaping their programmes by threading together humanitarian, DRRM and development work in creating resilient communities.
Lobbying government to rework its plans and budgets and include DRRM was a different matter. It was the extensive experience of network members in working with other sectors and the social capital they had built with local governments and communities that facilitated the process of mainstreaming disaster risk reduction and management in government plans and budgets. Many of them presently serve as civil society representatives in local and national development councils and thus could influence government policies, budgets and decisions. They could convince local special bodies in health, livelihoods and other sectors to integrate DRRM into their programmes. It also helps that disaster risk reduction and management is a neutral engagement supported by both government and civil society groups. The current positions of network members in the governance structure make it possible for them to monitor government use of DRRM and CCA funds. In Camarines Sur Province, the Caritas Diocese of Libmanan, a member organisation of CODE-NGO’s regional network Coalition for Bicol Development, persuaded the San Fernando municipal government to replicate the participatory assessment processes the Libmanan municipal government had used in developing a DRRM plan and use this in selected coastal communities. This was a noteworthy change, since local governments were used to merely copying their own previous plans.
Participating in decision-making processes that have an impact on people’s lives is no longer confined to the government. Local government officials who formerly dominated planning processes are now engaging the expertise of civil society groups in formulating sound and appropriate DRRM plans, in order to access DRRM funds. Beyond civil society groups and government, people’s organisations also benefit from initiatives to mainstream DRRM in other sectoral programmes.
In Talibon, Bohol Province, a CODE-NGO member network, Philippine Partnership for the Development of Human Resources in Rural Areas (PhilDHRRA), worked with a women’s organisation on a DRRM and CCA project. This had a positive effect on the women, whose confidence was bolstered by their newfound knowledge. They realised their capacity to prepare their family and community for disasters and protect their livelihood from calamities. They also came to recognise their potential to articulate their concerns to the village council and participate in projects that were relevant to them. Now the women are seeking ways to broaden their involvement in community and village council activities. What started as a project aimed at mainstreaming the DRRM approach in programmes became an unintended channel for women to learn and assert their rights.
Engaging with networks requires coordination at different levels because there are provincial and regional networks operating in various situations. This is an effective, yet challenging, task, as macro and micro advocacy work, local and national capacities, and network and individual systems and agenda are linked. Distinctions and similarities in ways of working and the operating context have to be considered to ensure a smooth and effective coordination hub.
While the agenda of regional networks may vary (for example, one may focus on man-made conflicts, while another on natural hazards), they share the similar objective of influencing
2: Engaging civil society networks for building resilience 17 government plans and budgets to support DRRM mainstreaming. The diversity of their experiences offers rich lessons that make these networks treasures of learning and reflection for refining resilience work.
Engaging with networks further creates a broad space for sharing technologies and expertise. The ties between national and local NGOs are enriched as opportunities increase for innovation, sharing and learning at the intersection of DRRM and development work. A critical mass composed of development, humanitarian and DRRM practitioners is created. With collective expertise and experience, network members are able to deal effectively with the different combinations of shocks and stress that communities experience. Compartmentalised programmes will not reduce the vulnerability of communities. An integrated, flexible and adaptive approach that requires civil society groups to work closer together and share best practices to deal with interconnected systemic risks is the key.
Adding to these gains from engaging with networks is the strong sense of accountability among the members. Since their activities are interrelated and their geographical reach is wide, one member answers not only to its immediate stakeholders but also indirectly to the stakeholders of other members.
In supporting a CSO network that carries out development work across the country, CODE- NGO and Christian Aid have been able to extend their reach to at least 100 communities in a short time. It is not difficult to see the scale and speed of impact of their work on helping build community resources and capacity. The investment is small, yet the impact is big and lasting, allowing people to thrive amidst risks and live a life with dignity. As risks can potentially become more complex and have a wider impact, the urgency of preparing as many communities as possible intensifies. Engaging and strengthening networks then becomes an advantageous and rational path to take.
The work of CODE-NGO gives us a bird’s eye view of how far and fast NGOs in a network can expand resilience initiatives, deepen their impact and widen their reach. It makes the promise of a better life closer to a greater population of at-risk communities. The challenge that remains is in influencing international humanitarian coordination spaces to bring in the voices of grassroots communities. How can local Philippine networks assert and protect their voice as they collaborate with dominant UN and international NGOs? In a context where government has limited capacity to extend humanitarian and DRRM interventions, how can local civil society networks fill this gap without being undermined by more dominant players in the international scene? How can local civil society networks make their voices heard in these spaces where mechanisms and processes are partial to international NGOs? As these stories have shown, the resilience work of civil society networks such as CODE-NGO continues as they search for answers to these questions and new ways of building the resilience of grassroots communities.
18 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines 3 Recasting community organising for resilience
As indicated in Chapter 1, it is common notion that to effect social change, individuals have to be organised into a collective acting towards a shared interest. This is based on the assumption that social change always involves conflict and struggle with dominant institutions and organisations and so a subordinated group needs to generate collective power, in order to influence and direct systems and processes in its favour. An organised mass is the means to challenge institutions and organisations that perpetuate power imbalances and inequality.
While this strategy of community mobilisation for social change has been successful in many cases, it is not easy to achieve, since the prevailing risks affect not only community groups, but also the families and individuals that form those groups. The participation of group leaders and members may be affected by their need to attend to family concerns first. Women may be taking on leadership roles, but may still be victims of spousal abuse at home. Community projects may be earning money, but the members’ wages may still be low. Social issues may be addressed, but family relationships may persist, inevitably affecting the leaders and members. In short, the social values being advocated by community groups may not necessarily be translated into family or individual gains.
Given the complexity of risks facing communities, development organisations need to reflect on the status quo of organising work. At present, they prioritise technical capacity building, which is a far cry from their strategies in the 1970s and 1980s, when the emphasis was on leadership and value formation. Development organisations must learn from their failed initiatives and recalibrate their strategies if they are to help create resilient communities effectively. They need to step back, start challenging their organising approach, and ask: Why are social gains not translated into individual and family gains? If there is a strong push in the development field to produce big impact, why should we go for small change? Why invest in one or five individuals or families when one can invest in a large community group and produce a bigger impact? Why are families and the individual ignored in the community organising equation?
Christian Aid partners Socio-Pastoral Institute (SPI), Coastal CORE and FORGE understand that answering these questions calls for a change in traditional ways of community organising and for exploring uncertain and diverse paths that are new to them. SPI’s response was to bring in spirituality to help Moro and Christians transform ‘the self or the person’ and the family, the basic unit of society. This entailed going back to cultivating values of stewardship, equality of rights and human dignity. For Coastal CORE, it was about finding one’s voice by accepting one’s identity and breaking down negative images of marginalised groups. Similar to FORGE, its focus was on building the confidence of the people, helping them think beyond simply subsisting for themselves and their family, and teaching them the options for improving their lives and how to maximise these options. The outcomes of the work of SPI, Coastal CORE and FORGE might look the same, but there were inherent differences in their approach. Both SPI and Coastal CORE were proactive, driven by a vision that directly impacted only a few target families or individuals, not the community. On the other hand, FORGE worked on issues and was therefore reactive. But its reach was wider because it deliberately centred its impact on the community.
The approach of SPI, Coastal CORE and FORGE may be unpopular, especially when one considers resource efficiency (input vis-à-vis output) and the urgency of effecting wide-scale transformation.
19 It is distinct from the mainstream idea of doing community work, but it breaks through social and personal barriers that have weakened community organisations and hindered development progress. The histories of these marginalised communities are characterised by unequal power relations and hegemonic control that have denied them equal access to basic social services, information, facilities and processes important to community life. Consequently, they have developed negative identities of themselves and the larger community that often crystallise into acts of resistance and subservience, indifference and passivity. It is these histories that urged SPI, Coastal CORE and FORGE to recast their community organising approach by working with families and individuals. When we understand what puts these communities at risk and why, and why many ‘development-as-usual’ interventions have failed, this approach, which focuses on values and re-imagines the role and impact of the individual on the family and the community, provides an answer.
Rebuilding Mindanao through stewardship and interfaith work: SPI and UFS
Mindanao’s history is replete with stories of mistrust and resentment between the Moro (Muslims and lumad or indigenous people) and Christians. The stories go as far back as the Spanish- American period when colonisers took away the Moro’s land using force and deceit. This started a long, drawn-out war that took thousands of lives from all groups. The Moro endured years of systematic and violent marginalisation, as their minority voice was ignored. The killings deeply entrenched chronic feelings of hate, resentment and discrimination between and among the Moro and Christians. What started as a conflict over land became complex when religion became a factor. The mix and complexity of risks made interfaith work difficult.
Cognisant of this, SPI, an NGO formed by Roman Catholic priests and nuns from various congregations, saw the importance of addressing these feelings first, or development efforts would not prosper. While it does not discount what socioeconomic support can do to improve people’s lives, SPI believes that fostering lasting peace and eradicating poverty in Mindanao require more than this. It encourages development organisations to rethink and recalibrate their traditional approach in doing development work and bring back the missing links of community organising.
For SPI, helping people in Mindanao must start with transforming the self through the concept of stewardship, or khalifah, for the Moro. Khalifah espouses that we are all created to be custodians of our community and are thus responsible for one another’s welfare. It is a form of spirituality that transcends formal prayers and rituals and embraces a life committed to non-violence and solidarity with the poor, encompassing the realm of the personal and relational to cover social, economic and political fields. Adopting khalifah means adopting a life that upholds equal rights and tolerance of diversity, as well as a just and economic order. It is this often overlooked element of community organising and social transformation that SPI brought to Mindanao.
SPI works with Ummah Fi Salam (UFS), a Muslim development group it formed in Mindanao in the mid-2000s, together with Maguid Maruhom, a hereditary sultan of the Iranun tribe who adopted the khalifah practice after years of implementing unsuccessful socioeconomic projects. Ummah means community and fi salam means peace and, as the name implies, UFS endeavours to build communities of peace. It is founded on faith and righteousness and maintains that a person will be held accountable on the last day for the actions he or she has done to the community. The group essentially believes in doing what is right and preventing what is wrong. It adheres to the Quran, but unlike fundamentalists, it promotes a progressive interpretation of the Quran by using its teachings to help people critically examine social issues such as urban poverty.
20 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines Khalifah shows people another road to transformation, one that is less travelled and less popular, but effectively breaks down entrenched inequities and prejudices. For example, Omar was once a fundamentalist Muslim who observed the practice of confining women to the home to look after the family. His wife, Saida, was unhappy with this arrangement because she was used to doing community work as a youth leader. Open discussions were not practised. Omar likewise confined himself to studying the teachings of Islam, prayer and fasting, and paid no heed to the social issues around him. What he had was a one-way relationship with God and no one else. Omar had received his Quranic education in Iran and was a recognised ustad (teacher) of the Quran in the community. Saida was not accustomed to communicating with other people, fearful of her husband and withdrawn from the community. She was silent, fearful that she would be judged when she spoke. She was totally dependent on her husband’s income.
Sultan Maguid recognised Saida’s potential for becoming a woman leader. But he knew that in order to transform Saida, he first had to transform Omar. Eventually, Omar allowed Saida to pursue her joy of service, a decision he never regretted. Saida learned about women’s rights and discovered her capacity to help her family and transform society. She started helping Omar with the family expenses, including their Muslim women and men form an alliance with Catholic Bishop children’s school needs. Omar found himself sharing that joy Cabajar through the interfaith council in order to negotiate as his relationship with his peacefully with military groups in Pagadian City, Zamboanga family and Saida improved. del Sur. (Allan Vera) Whereas before he always had the final word, now he consults Saida on social concerns while she asks him about the Quran. Other Muslim families look up to Omar, seeing him taking on childcare duties when Saida is busy or out of the house. Both Saida and Omar nurture and teach their children to respect all faiths. In one instance, when one of their children had a bad encounter with a Christian, they let the child interact with another Christian family to prevent the child from developing a hatred of Christians.
Omar and Saida are among the couples assisting other Muslim families in resolving their differences. Khalifah inspires them to go beyond the confines of their family and contribute to changing their community. It inspires them to work with people of other religions with whom they share the values of social justice and human dignity. Devoting their time to community work has since become the couple’s way of life.
Guided by the tenets of khalifah and their understanding of Mindanao’s history, SPI and UFS knew they had to engage with other faiths to heal relationships and resolve differences. They brought together Christian, Roman Catholic and Islamic faith workers and the lumad to work collectively on addressing community problems. The fact that the group operates without formal rules, systems, mechanisms and regular funding support would leave an external observer amazed at how it has managed to sustain its activities and participants for a decade. It is evident that a key element binds the group, khalifah, which commits them to be stewards of communities.
3: Recasting community organising for resilience 21 In their interfaith work, group members have taken on the roles of negotiator, mediator and peace advocate, particularly when cases of human rights violation and calamities occur in urban poor communities. Recently, residents of Pitogo, a community in Mindanao that is not covered by UFS, sought refuge from relatives in UFS-supported communities after receiving a threat from the mayor, who suspected their community of harbouring the kidnappers of four people. They were given a week to produce the kidnap victims or they would be harmed. Although UFS did not cover their area, it provided the community with assistance. Sultan Maguid, UFS executive director, said it was khalifah that pushed them to help. The community brought up the problem before the interfaith council, which carried out actions to resolve the issue. They called on their networks to provide humanitarian assistance to the evacuees and Columban missionaries heeded the call. The council persuaded the regional office of the Department of Social Welfare and Development to consider the evacuees as internally displaced people and give them relief assistance. It also launched an investigation into the human rights violations committed against the people. Since the issue was highly politicised, it involved representatives from the Office of the President, government agencies and the police. The host communities exercised protection measures by coordinating with the local government in verifying the identities of the evacuees. This would prevent Islamic extremists from taking advantage of the situation. The interfaith council continues to speak to and mediate among the evacuees, government, military and police to ensure the evacuees’ rights are upheld.
Interfaith work espouses dialogue among the concerned parties in resolving conflicts, as in the case of rido (tribal conflicts) between warring clans. UFS, together with the interfaith council, has convinced the military to facilitate dialogue and not to see rido as mere domestic or tribal differences that they should not be involved in. Dialogue was also instrumental in improving the relationship between the police and a Muslim-dominated community. The Muslims used to be afraid of the police, who would only enter the community when there were police raids. The police were afraid to enter the community because they thought it was a den of terrorists. These discussions became the bridge to start addressing the impact of inequality.
The interfaith group stewards all people regardless of their faith or denomination. At the height of bombings in Mindanao and abuse of Muslim rights by the Philippine military, the Roman Catholic bishop of Pagadian defended a community of Muslims when their houses were raided by a military company that suspected them of keeping illegal munitions. The company was penalised after complaints were lodged. UFS and the interfaith council initiated discussions with the police and military, which helped reduce incidents of violence against Muslims.
The group also engaged the city government of Pagadian in resettlement issues. In early 2014, 236 Roman Catholic and Moro families were transferred to a relocation site. They were, however, disappointed to find out that the city government had defaulted on its promise to make basic services, such as water, electricity and transportation, available in the area upon their arrival. Months had passed and still no development. UFS raised this matter to the council, where the relocated people were invited to discuss their community issues.
With the social networks and influence of the group convenors, including bishops and priests, pastors and a sultan, a safe space has been created for grassroots communities, civil society and other stakeholders to dialogue and express their views without fear. This serves as an alternative venue to state planning processes, allowing poor and marginalised sectors to take part in decision-making processes that can help improve their lives.
By working with the influential Roman Catholic Church and other religions, the Moro have a voice that enables them to seek and claim their rights. What used to be a lone minority voice that was
22 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines easily ignored is now being heard as their social capital and political power broadens. Interfaith work heals the wounds created by the protracted conflict by bringing people of all religions together to uphold common values of equality and human dignity. Through this healing, the path towards empowerment of the Moro is gradually being secured.
Changing mindsets, transforming lives: Coastal CORE
Sitio Bueno is a small upland community located in the southern portion of Luzon Island. It is home to 22 families belonging to the Agta Tabangnon indigenous group. The community has had a long history of isolation, marginalisation and neglect, with families looking after their own needs, receiving minimal support from government and other Agta families.
Neonita Bueno, one of the informal woman leaders, recounted their story.
‘We were withdrawn and intimidated. We hardly communicated with people from the lowland and could not even look them in the eye. When we travelled to the lowland communities, people would look at us differently. They thought that we were inane and reckless. They would tease and mock us because of our physical appearance. This was also the reason we did not want to be identified as Agta Tabangnon. We lived very far so we felt isolated from them. When someone visited our community, we would hide and not talk to them. We were not aware of any government services and did not access these.’
Access to Sitio Bueno was difficult until 2012, and people had to traverse a very steep, muddy terrain for hours to reach the area. Since the community population was low, local officials were not keen on prioritising the community for development projects. Although the village council allocated a yearly budget for the Agta Tabangnon, the intended projects never materialised. Village leaders admitted these shortcomings, explaining that it was difficult for them to reach out to the residents, who were withdrawn. They added that the community’s traditional sociocultural practices did not fit the state administration grid. The village treasurer gave an example:
‘We wanted to implement the cash transfer programme of the government in Sitio Bueno, but we could not do it because the programme requires the beneficiaries to produce birth certificates, which the Agta Tabangnon do not have. We wanted to improve their sanitation habits by providing them with toilets. But how could we do that if they are nomadic? They could not bring the toilet bowls with them. We tried to address their need for water by installing a hand water pump in their community. But they did not like the taste of water coming out of the pump and would rather drink directly from the river. The pump was not maintained and eventually damaged.’
Clearly, government programme planning lacks the information necessary to ensure the appropriateness of their initiatives for indigenous communities.
Having limited access to basic social services and options for livelihood has strained relationships within the family. Marilou, a mother of four, said:
‘My husband and I would always quarrel, especially when my husband could not put food on the table. I did not have a job of my own. It also did not occur to me that I should have one because we were used to having our husbands doing all the work. That was how Agta families lived before. Life was difficult for us most of the time. We did not speak with our husbands and were very impatient with each other. I never thought of approaching other Agta families for help. I always kept our problems to myself.’
3: Recasting community organising for resilience 23 Her story is shared by other women in the community. One said:
‘We grew up thinking that men should be the ones earning an income while women stayed at home. Our children did not go to school. We did not value education. We were only concerned with having food to eat every day. That was our life before. That was our dream for our family, to have food on the table every day.’
This was the situation that confronted Coastal CORE, an NGO working to improve and protect the life and livelihood of coastal communities in the provinces of Albay and Sorsogon. When Coastal CORE approached the village council of Caracaran to inquire about possible sites where it could commence its resilient livelihoods programme, the village council unanimously pointed the NGO to Sitio Bueno. This was also the council’s way of seeking external assistance for the Agta Tabangnon, who they recognised as the most vulnerable group in their community.
For an NGO that had no prior experience working extensively with indigenous or upland people, this was a tall order. Coastal CORE recognised the multiple interlinked risks in Sitio Bueno and knew that it would take more than disaster preparedness initiatives to build a resilient community. It was challenged to recalibrate its ways of working, relearn new approaches of organising communities and refine its expectations of development programmes.
Coastal CORE initially planned to address the governance and technical issues of coastal livelihoods and strengthen disaster risk reduction and climate change adaptation measures, as it had done in previous projects. However, after studying the landscape and the Agta, the NGO decided to begin community organising by transforming individuals and family relationships. Coastal CORE needed to break down personal and social walls that had been built from years of ignorance and intolerance of cultural differences, feelings of neglect and ineptness, and politicised decisions. Preparedness against natural hazards, livelihood skills training and provision of livelihood inputs were not enough; discovery and acceptance of cultural differences and healing of social relationships were necessary for the project to be successful.
The first official activity involved gathering together the Agta and other communities in workshops. It was the first time the Agta participated in such a gathering with people they did not know. The experience was daunting, especially when they had to speak in front of the group, but they looked forward to it. For the Agta, a new world was opened when they started connecting with other people. Suddenly, they found themselves claiming services from government. They approached the village officials for medical assistance. The process of obtaining their birth certificates had started. The Agta also became involved An Agta Tabangnon proudly shows the garden in Coastal CORE’s savings and loan scheme he started using a loan from the group’s savings to support their livelihood needs. The need for family savings was a concern that arose in the scheme. The garden provides an additional PVCA conducted by Coastal CORE with the source of food and income for him and his family. community. Using their savings, some of the (Coastal CORE) Agta had been able to start their own home
24 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines gardens or small convenience stores. The extra income from selling vegetables and the stores was allocated for their children’s schooling. Others were able to redeem their copra by repaying the buyer using the profit from selling woven mats and copra. By May 2015, the group’s savings had reached US$673. The members plan to use this for emergencies.
The Agta have also come to appreciate the value of education. A mother proudly talked about her daughter whose motivation to finish secondary school inspired her to work harder. Her daughter would be the first to graduate in their tribe.
As the series of workshops progressed, the personal and social walls between and among the Agta and other communities gradually broke down. Gone were the long-held images of the Agta as illiterate, inane and reckless. New relationships were formed between the Agta and lowland communities as well as the local government. Lowland communities came to understand and accept the indigenous group’s different cultural practices. The Agta no longer hid from people and accepted their indigenous origins, even proudly claiming this. They are now beneficiaries of educational support from the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples.
Change did not only happen at the personal and family levels but also within the Agta Tabangnon group.
‘We hold family days here where we gather all families and do some activities. We ask families to share whatever food they have during the activity. This is new for us because before we just kept to ourselves and our family and did not interact with other families. We did not really know each other that well. Now, we have occasions where we could talk and have fun. Apart from this, our group meets every Tuesday to discuss the savings scheme and the concerns of our community.’ – Neonita, head of the savings and loan project
‘This project changed me. I did not have any dreams before for myself or for my family. I was just concerned with putting food on the table. When the project asked us about our vision for our family, it was only then that I started thinking about it. Now, I want all my children to go to school. Some of the parents want to have better homes. Others want to have better banca [small boats] for fishing. It did not occur to me that I could dream more for my family. The project helped us to dream a better life for our family and, at the same time, opened opportunities for us to achieve those dreams.’ – Antonio, an Agta father
At the start of the project, Coastal CORE’s intent was to help the Agta value their indigeneity and develop confidence and self-esteem in interacting with other people. They also sought to fix the relationships within households and remove the stigma against being Agta. But the project accomplished much more. The Agta’s network broadened, allowing them to obtain support from village officials and other communities on various concerns, such as access to basic social services. Even though the interventions focused on the Agta, the lowland communities experienced some transformation as well, having grown to accept the Agta as one of them. And Coastal CORE, by embracing the challenges of new risks in an upland community of indigenous people and readily adapting its approach to community organising, effectively assisted the Agta Tabangnon in their journey towards resilience.
Putting the spotlight on the family: FORGE
FORGE has been organising communities, implementing socioeconomic projects and carrying out advocacy work in Central Visayas for 27 years. But this has not been without challenges. One of the difficulties it encountered was sustaining the participation of households in community
3: Recasting community organising for resilience 25 mobilising and advocacy activities, which could undermine or destroy the progress the community has made so far. The reasons cited by members for their inactivity were largely related to family or personal concerns, such as marital problems, spousal abuse, having a prostitute child, addiction to gambling and involvement in illegal activities. FORGE then realised that it had to recalibrate its organising strategy and rethink how it could streamline its interventions at the family level. This gave birth to the family development intervention (FDI) approach, which believes that addressing problems within the family, which is the basic unit of society, could increase the probability of members participating in community activities. It was not easy for FORGE to change its approach to organising communities by integrating family work in its practice. The questions posed at the beginning of this chapter had been the subject of debate and discussion among its staff. However, it was the challenge brought about by the new risks that pushed them to eventually adopt this approach.
In the upland village of Busay in Cebu City, where these risks have emerged, FORGE, through its family development workers, formed a women and children committee to assist families in dealing with domestic and personal issues. This committee is part of the grassroots organisation Tarkum Upper Laguerta Homeowners Association (TULHOA) formed by FORGE in Busay in 2005. TULHOA was initially organised to resolve issues on land tenure and access to basic social services. Dealing with family concerns was not part of the group’s mission. But recognising the threat of the emerging risks, FORGE and TULHOA decided to include the FDI approach in the latter’s practice and integrate the committee in its structure.
The committee, composed of three to four community residents trained by FORGE in facilitating home visits and case referrals (for example, human rights violations, health problems and so on), teaches family planning and provides counselling, among other tasks. In times of disaster, such as typhoon Haiyan and the 2014 earthquake in Central Visayas, the committee is also called to provide psychosocial support to affected families.
The effectiveness of the FDI approach is demonstrated by Corazon’s story. A resident of Busay, Corazon used to live in the city’s port area with her family. When the government relocated them to Busay, she lost her job at the port and her husband became the sole breadwinner. The couple did not practise family planning and had several children. Corazon got hooked on gambling, using her husband’s income. She neglected her children, forcing her daughter to take care of her younger siblings. Corazon also reneged on her duties as a member of the village association.
When they learned about Corazon’s situation, the women and children committee started visiting Corazon and her family, engaging them in informal discussions about responsible parenthood and the crisis in her family. The committee helped her realise the opportunities her family was missing. It also asked Corazon to visualise the future of her family. Her husband likewise had the chance to express his feelings of resentment and frustration towards Corazon. In the counselling that ensued, the committee, instead of forcing Corazon to change, made her see the options for having a better life. It took months before they saw positive developments in Corazon. Now she no longer gambles; serves actively in their village association, even becoming part of its Board of Directors and the emergency response team; and takes good care of her children. Corazon is just one of the many cases of individuals whose relationship with their families and the community has improved because of the FDI approach.
26 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines 4 Turning markets into channels for resilience
Entrenched in market systems is the unequal relationship and access to resources, knowledge and network between powerful market players and small producers and among poor people themselves. Big commercial groups often control commodity markets because they can better anticipate and manage the impact of price volatility, market crash and limited supply of raw materials and product demand. Well-organised and backed up by a strong network, they can easily adapt to change and handle the pressure from uncertain market behaviour. They can also work around state laws to serve their interest. Among poor people, some are able to source raw materials and access the market through their networks.
More often, small producers tend to be enmeshed in the complex web of state legal instruments and business requirements and arrangements that are applicable only to large enterprises. Operating far from cities with poor (or limited) infrastructure support, they are forced to absorb high production and marketing costs. They receive limited government extension services and lack the technology support that will enable them to produce high-quality products for the mainstream market. Nor do they have access to market information that can help them anticipate market behaviour. Vertical and horizontal networks necessary for expanding their businesses are either weak or nonexistent.
Christian Aid partners Urban Poor Associates (UPA) and the Philippine Network for Rural Democratization and Development (Philnet) recognise that these issues prevent the market from functioning to benefit poor communities. The story of UPA and its partner community group KABALIKAT shows how KABALIKAT established a partnership with a large retail store and tilted the power relations in its favour. Constant mentoring and guidance from UPA helped small producer communities navigate the market system and build the knowledge and confidence to negotiate with the private sector for a fair product price. The case of Philnet illustrates how intervening in other parts of the value chain could have a positive impact on poor producers. It exemplifies the value of experimenting with different business models so that the shocks and pressures often borne by small producers are shared with other market players. The lessons derived from Philnet’s long experience in implementing livelihood programmes and testing innovative ideas have enabled the organisation to effectively teach communities how to anticipate risks and to thrive in a highly unpredictable market.
Weaving their way through resilience: UPA and KABALIKAT
The Baseco community stands on 56 hectares of reclaimed land in an area where the mouth of Pasig River meets the waters of Manila Bay. In the 1980s, the government relocated informal settler families from other parts of metropolitan Manila to Baseco, where people lived in crowded makeshift houses on stilts and engaged in seasonal low-paying work. The community was not recognised as an official village by the government until 2010, and endured more than two decades of living without clean water, electricity, roads and other basic social services. Such a long period of neglect created feelings of resentment and hopelessness among the people. The people grew indifferent to community issues, accepting their situation without question. The women were passive and rarely employed.
27 UPA, an NGO that educates families on housing rights and assists communities in eviction crises, stepped in to help the community in 2001. At that time, the residents were facing the threat of eviction as the government was planning to rehabilitate Pasig River. UPA organised the residents to form KABALIKAT sa Kaunlaran ng Baseco or, simply KABALIKAT, to work on the community’s land tenure issues.
In 2003, Marieta, one of the KABALIKAT leaders, thought it would be good to start a livelihoods project to motivate women to work. UPA started training KABALIKAT members in the rudiments of running a livelihoods programme. KABALIKAT then opened a wholesale store where its members could purchase goods on credit. The store closed after a few months, as members defaulted on their loans. The organisation then tried selling rice, but this venture also failed because of members’ arrears. Another attempt at an income-generating project involved selling candies, but it ended up earning less than half a dollar a year. Reflecting on its failed attempts, KABALIKAT realised that more important than learning the basics of managing livelihoods projects, internal relations needed to be strengthened so that as a group the members would be able to deal with misunderstandings and other challenges. KABALIKAT also recognised the need to study the larger market (such as considering consumers outside of Baseco) if it wanted to sustain its livelihoods projects.
UPA taught people value chain analysis and product marketing and helped them manage their internal disputes and shortcomings. UPA further helped facilitate the group’s annual assessment and planning. It also linked KABALIKAT with the Department of Trade and Industry, which taught the members product development, and private foundations that provided technical knowledge of running a livelihood project. But change did not happen instantly. KABALIKAT initiated various income-generating activities that later turned out to be unsuccessful. Private individuals tried to help by buying their products regardless of the quality. This form of support, however, was more philanthropic than strategic; short term rather than long term.
In 2009, UPA, through its network, assisted KABALIKAT in starting a habi (weaving) livelihood project. The members used rejected plastic wrappers of snack foods that they sourced from food manufacturers for free. In 2013, they included water lilies that they obtained from the Pasig River as raw material. KABALIKAT chose to use scrap material for two reasons: to contribute to waste reduction and to generate a higher profit, given the low investment required. Jeorgie, KABALIKAT president, explained:
‘We have a lot of problems in our community and we try to deal with this by linking all our programmes in KABALIKAT. That’s how we came up with the idea of weaving scrap materials. It is not only a source of income, but also our way of helping clean the environment.’
Their products, which include bags, wallets and placemats, are durable and have a high mark-up price. UPA funded the construction of the production centre, and Mercy Relief, through UPA’s facilitation, provided support to build the community-based livelihood centre, where KABALIKAT products are displayed and stored. UPA further guided the people in developing proposals and marketing materials for their project, and in working out strategies to market their products.
Through UPA’s network, KABALIKAT secured a partnership with the Filipino lifestyle retail chain Kultura Filipino three months after the habi project commenced. Under Kultura Filipino’s Crafts for a Cause programme, KABALIKAT products were sold in the biggest chain of shopping malls in the country, making 2010 a good year for the business, since there were very few groups engaged in the same enterprise at that time. By then, KABALIKAT already knew how to manage a
28 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines business. Learning from its past unsuccessful ventures and through UPA’s mentoring, KABALIKAT developed the confidence to negotiate and collaborate with bigger players in the market. Thus, when the retailer asked them to reduce their prices, the members negotiated successfully to keep to their originally agreed price. This was a big accomplishment for KABALIKAT. Whereas previously, people could be persuaded easily to agree to unfair business arrangements, now they recognise the value of their labour and products and assert themselves in negotiations. Buyers no longer look at the urban poor as pushovers that they could easily underprice and undervalue. Aside from selling to Kultura Filipino, KABALIKAT joined bazaars to sell the products and also sold them to community visitors. That year, the organisation earned PHP300,000 (US$7,500).
Many of the women earned extra income from the products, which they then spent on their children’s education and their families’ daily needs. With the profit from the habi project, the group started a savings scheme, which members were required to join so that they would have a fallback during emergencies. And in the event that they are awarded land titles, they could tap the fund for house construction or repair. This is a big step towards resilience for people who started with little or no savings and later generated buffer funds that they Women of KABALIKAT exercise their voice in negotiating could access during times of crisis. a fair share of their labour and product value with big market players. (UPA) The market for KABALIKAT’s products continues to be unstable, owing to stiff competition and new market rules. Given these uncertainties, one is inclined to ask: How can small livelihood projects such as the habi project compete and be sustainable in a market that is dominated by bigger players who have the resources to innovate their products and capture the larger percentage of buyers? Where market systems and institutions are oftentimes transformed to favour the expansion and growth of private entrepreneurs and big companies, how can these livelihood projects continue to adapt to maintain their position in the market? How can small producers consistently claim a fair share of the value of their labour and resources within this context?
Despite the challenges they have been facing, the people remain hopeful that their habi project will do well in the market. They know that of the livelihoods projects they have done, this has the most potential because they have a market outside their own community and a network of reliable support groups. Anticipating future demands and risks from the market, KABALIKAT members are beginning to reorganise their livelihoods programme. With them in this journey are their support groups, such as UPA, which constantly guides the community in managing these risks.
Reinforcing consolidators to uphold community resilience: Philnet
In the 1960s and 1970s, when nito vines were abundant in the upland communities of Sibuyan Island, Romblon, women would weave the material into plates, which they would then sell to
4: Turning markets into channels for resilience 29 visitors. However, the demand for nito plates on the island was low and unsteady. The nearest large market they could access was four hours away by boat. Selling the plates individually was not viable, as the transportation cost would be huge and eat up the profit.
Prior to 2010, the woman weavers would sell their nito plates to consolidators in the village who, in turn, would transact with a middleman who sold to retailers in the city of Manila. The women earned very little from this arrangement, as they were forced to sell to the consolidators at a lower price in order to absorb the price demands of the middlemen, retailers and consumers. There were few buyers within the community. These conditions discouraged and prevented the women from producing nito plates and so they turned to selling vegetables to supplement their husbands’ farming income. Because the income was still insufficient, many households were forced to borrow money from relatives or friends to sustain their daily needs. Many children had to drop out of school. Good health became a privilege.
Sibuyan is a small island that is highly susceptible to natural hazards such as typhoons. Four hours from the provincial capital by boat, the island is often isolated socially, economically and politically from the rest of the province during the typhoon season. Crops are destroyed. Transportation to the mainland and other islands is not available. Humanitarian assistance arrives days after a typhoon. Without any crops to eat and unable to sell its products, the community, especially the women and children, becomes even more vulnerable. People’s health is at risk. Family relationships are strained, as parents and children are forced to leave the island to look for jobs. Community ties are affected when leaders are unable to assist people with their needs. Woman weavers of Sibuyan are assured of a The island is rich in mineral reserves, which steady income from their nito plates thanks to makes it a suitable site for mining operations. the market innovations introduced by Philnet. Unless proper institutional and structural (Philnet) safeguards are put in place by the government and mining companies, the island’s natural habitat and its people are constantly exposed to potential danger. The community’s vulnerability increases when, owing to their limited income from weaving and farming, households become inclined to support the mining operations.
Upon reflecting on the lessons learned from past community livelihoods projects, Philnet decided to test a new livelihoods model that would reduce the market risks faced by the weavers, taking into account the difficulty in marketing the product. Philnet knew an unsteady market would render the community vulnerable to risks. The model aimed to reinforce the capacity of consolidators to supply the materials, buy the products from the weavers and market the finished product. Philnet started by supporting Mary Jane, a consolidator who the woman weavers trusted and with whom they had a good relationship. Philnet provided Mary Jane with capital to purchase raw materials and buy finished plates. Mary Jane would loan the nito vines to the weavers, who would then get paid in cash when they provided the plates. Philnet also plans to help Mary Jane
30 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines find a storage space for the nito plates so that she can buy them constantly from the weavers, allowing the latter to have a steady income.
Mary Jane no longer uses a middleman, but directly negotiates with the buyer in Manila. The woman weavers favour this new arrangement because they earn more. They do not have to pay for transportation to bring their items to the market or negotiate with a middleman. The consolidator does all these tasks for them. As a result, they are able to save money, which they then use for household expenses and payment of old debts. In some cases, they exchange their nito plates with the consolidator for bread, soap, salt and other household needs. From being a seasonal source of income, weaving has become a regular income-generating activity for the women. It enables them to sustain the basic needs of their family, especially the children (eg, food and proper sanitation).
Philnet believed that by reconfiguring parts of the market chain, the community’s vulnerability to several risks would be reduced. In past projects, it gave livelihoods capital to individual households. This approach was ineffective because the families tended to use the money for other expenses. From a project administration perspective, it was difficult for Philnet to monitor household use of the capital support. With the new model, the risk of misusing the funds is avoided and supervision is easier, since Philnet only has to deal with Mary Jane. More importantly, it is an innovative strategy that not only looks at sustainability in the market but also efficiency. It confines its support to one consolidator, yet it benefits many woman weavers.
Since this model is still new, Philnet has yet to see its full impact, particularly on the relationship between the weavers and the consolidators. Will it breed monopolisation of services? Will it create unequal power relations between the two groups? Is trust enough to preserve the good market relationship the groups presently have? If external support from Philnet stops, can the communities sustain the model, given the unpredictability of the market and the operation of dominant market players? A lot of questions on this model arise. And this is a good sign because, as Chapter 7 demonstrates, it is through constant learning and questioning that communities are able to anticipate and adapt to changes, manage the risks these bring and ultimately develop resilience.
4: Turning markets into channels for resilience 31 5 Accessing public finance for resilience building
Why do we need to pay attention to a government’s budget? Because it is a government’s development policy, priorities and commitments expressed in monetary terms. It is a resource that is intended to ensure the welfare of the country and its citizens. Government can be held accountable if it fails in this task because of a weak budget system. Since the matter involves people’s money, it is often the subject of intense scrutiny and debate.
National and local financing systems in many countries have become solely the government’s domain. Government officials decide on the allocation of taxpayers’ money, and the people have little participation, if at all, in the budget planning process. This is true even in many democratic countries characterised by lack of government transparency and accountability and limited public access to critical budget information. While it is a government’s responsibility to be transparent in how and where it uses people’s money, its citizens also have the moral obligation to scrutinise how their money is managed by government. They should look at the budget planning exercise as neither procedural nor one of the annual activities of government, but as a fundamental part of democracy and state building. There have been many cases of citizens holding government leaders accountable in judicial courts for misusing taxpayers’ money and demanding subsequent democratic reforms in government.
In the Philippines, the inclusion and consequent approval by the legislature of billions of lump sum funds in the national budget have weakened the government’s call for a comprehensive pro-poor public finance and budget reform. These funds, as the country has witnessed for decades, are persistently subject to corruption and unjustly used to serve the interests of a rich minority. Without transparency and information on the use of these funds, how can citizens hold government accountable? In the same manner, how can the government strengthen its political legitimacy and accountability when a central instrument of its governance system remains equivocal, exclusive and elusive to public scrutiny? Addressing this, the Philippine Government has instituted programmes and policies seeking the participation of civil society organisations in the fiscal process. These shifts in institutional arrangement ultimately aim to make the national budget transparent and responsive to the needs of the Filipino people.
However, accessing public finance for the general welfare necessitates more than just supportive policies and programmes. Other variables, such as trust between government and civil society organisations, are also important considerations in realising this. It is commonly perceived that civil society organisations are always in conflict with government. Why then will they engage in these fiscal programmes with local governments, which they perceive as corrupt and manipulative? In the same way, why will local governments open up government fiscal space for civil society organisations, which they perceive as critical and belligerent?
Trust lies at the core of these dynamics. It affects civil society participation in governance. Policies can force engagement between civil society organisations and government. But civil society organisations, in exercising their agency, may decide not to maximise these new institutional arrangements if they remain wary of government’s intentions. Local governments may still constrain civil society participation if they do not trust the latter. Developing a trusting relationship between these two parties is thus necessary to ensure public finance will work for the good of the people.
32 Opening the nation’s coffers to the influence and scrutiny of taxpayers is not easy, as powerful dominant actors who benefit from the status quo will relentlessly seek to suppress people’s voices and curb the space for their participation. But Christian Aid partners Coastal CORE and Social Watch Philippines show how they have been able to leverage institutional arrangements and their good relations with the government in pushing for transparency of budget design and use and directing public funds to improving people’s lives.
Directing people’s funds towards coastal resource preservation: Coastal CORE
Building resilient communities in Rapu-Rapu Island, Albay Province, would take more than training the residents in disaster preparedness. This was no secret to Coastal CORE, an NGO that works with poor and vulnerable fishing communities in the Bicol region on interventions around community-based coastal resource management, women and development, sustainable livelihoods and disaster risk reduction. Other risks that threaten poor people’s vulnerabilities would have to be addressed. The NGO noted how much the coastal resources meant to the people, who mostly relied on fishing for their income. When the mine spills of Lafayette Philippines resulted in massive fish kills in 2005, Coastal CORE, together with other anti-mining groups, confronted the local leaders and the mining company to make them accountable for the damages suffered by the people and the ecosystems.
Coastal CORE knew that any development intervention had to be based on sound resource assessment. In 2013, it commissioned Bicol University to undertake a study with the aim of determining the state of resources in the island and identifying appropriate actions based on the findings. The study recommended establishing marine and mangrove sanctuaries and extensive campaigns to protect the environment.
In 2014, the national government commenced the bottom-up budgeting (BUB) process in selected local government units, including the municipality of Rapu-Rapu. This programme opened the space for civil society organisations to participate in budget planning and ensure increased allocation for social services. Under the BUB, a Local Poverty Reduction Action Team was formed, consisting of local NGOs, grassroots organisations, community representatives and government officials, who would work together to plan long-term poverty reduction initiatives. The municipality of Rapu-Rapu invited Coastal CORE to be one of the civil society organisations on the team.
Given the municipal government’s previous relationship with Coastal CORE, one could not help but wonder: Why did the municipal government select Coastal CORE to be a part of the team when the group was confrontational in the past over the mining spill? Does the municipal government think it could fully trust the group’s actions? The answers lie in the events that transpired after mining operations ceased.
Coastal CORE, together with other Christian Aid partners, implemented disaster risk reduction projects in different provinces of the country, in partnership with local governments, being the mandated institution to oversee and guarantee the safety and security of the people. Coastal CORE worked with the municipalities and province of Albay in developing disaster risk reduction and management plans and budgets. It also helped strengthen the capacity of local government officials and communities for disaster preparedness and response.
During emergencies, Coastal CORE extended relief and rehabilitation work to the municipality of Rapu-Rapu. As a result, it gained the trust and respect of local government officials, who
5: Accessing public finance for resilience building 33 recognised the group’s competence and reputation in humanitarian and disaster risk reduction work. It also found allies among government officials who shared its vision and principles. Through ongoing dialogue and engagement, trust was built over time between the two parties and their relationship transformed from a clashing to an engaging one. This pushed Coastal CORE to deepen its involvement with the local government, working with the latter in subsequent initiatives, including climate change adaptation and mitigation programmes.
Working as part of the Local Poverty Reduction Action Team, Coastal CORE used the results of its recent resource assessment to formulate coastal resource management plans for the island. It also applied the ecosystem-based adaptation approach to make sure the plans would contribute to mitigating climate change and help reduce the vulnerability of the people and their environment to the adverse effects of climate change. Under the BUB, the group specifically targeted the 2014 budget of the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources to support the construction of two marine sanctuary and mangrove reforestation sites and the purchase of a patrol boat. Similar proposals were made by Coastal CORE for the agency’s 2015 budget.
Shirley, Coastal CORE executive director, reflected on their experience:
‘We recognise that there are several ways of resolving an issue. We could be confrontational and could directly hit the mining corporations, which we did with Lafayette, because those actions were necessary at that time. But now there are opportunities within the government system that we want to maximise to influence its decisions and plans. These opportunities do not necessitate us to aggressively confront the government, but rather engage them in dialogues and negotiations. The BUB is one of those opportunities. Through this planning process, we are able to access public funds to support actions that are founded on empirical data and espoused by the communities themselves.’
The new institutional arrangements and the now cordial relationship between the local government and Coastal CORE created opportunities for the latter to introduce positive changes in the local budget and plans for the benefit of poor coastal communities. The challenge now for Coastal CORE is to initiate the same transformation in the relationship between government and the communities. Good relations with the government would motivate people to create and maximise opportunities to participate in state processes that affect their lives. But what happens in countries where patronage politics and powerful elites have overruled the voices of minority groups for a long time? How can NGOs intervene to break this impasse and build trust between and among the groups? Where government leaders’ tenure in office is transitory, how can NGOs guarantee that the trust built between government and the communities is sustained and protected from abuse?
Claiming the nation’s purse for building resilience: SWP and ABI
Social Watch Philippines (SWP) is a network of Philippine development organisations formed in 1997 primarily to advocate financing for development. Every year, SWP members would lobby the legislature for a higher allocation for social development, having noted the decreasing funding for this sector in the national budget.
In 2000, all the member states of the United Nations committed to help achieving the eight Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) by 2015. The Philippine Government was one of the state signatories. That same year, SWP decided to make the MDGs the framework and focus for its budget advocacy. In the succeeding years, various studies by SWP members revealed that the
34 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines government was lagging behind in its MDG commitments. SWP also asserted that the MDGs were underfunded. Its members acted on the findings of the research, separately following up budget proposals, individually lobbying government agencies and legislators, and planning its own programmes. This resulted in a hodgepodge of actions that, while valuable, were not enough to give government a big solid push to fulfil its commitments.
A breakthrough happened in 2006. Having witnessed how SWP members persistently analysed and critiqued the annual national budget, progressive-minded legislators challenged these NGOs to come up with an integrated alternative budget for critical social expenditures. SWP accepted the challenge. The members realised that consolidating their efforts could generate collective power that would not only strengthen their voice, but also expand their geographical and sectoral reach. The fact that they had allies within the government further encouraged them to take on the task. Subsequently, SWP, together with other non-governmental organisations and supportive legislators, started the Alternative Budget Initiative (ABI), which advocates a genuine people’s budget as an alternative to the traditional budget of the Office of the President. Maintaining the MDGs as its framework, ABI pushes for increased spending on social services in its alternative budget, indicating clearly the budget allocations, the basis of the figures and proposed projects.
Members of SWP/ABI exercise their voice to the Bicameral Committee, which approves the national budget, to ensure their alternative budget proposal will be made part of the 2011 national budget. (SWP)
SWP/ABI knew the challenges ahead were immense. The country’s laws still placed budgetary powers exclusively with the president and limited the participation of citizens in fiscal processes. Public finance remained under the control of economists, financial managers, accountants and auditors. Some bureaucrats who had long worked under these laws developed a culture of excluding citizens from crucial decision-making processes.7 They were worried that increasing citizen involvement in budget planning would turn it into a ‘marketplace.’
Professor Leonor Briones, lead convenor of SWP and former national treasurer of the country, disagreed to this, stating:
‘Democracy is precisely a marketplace of ideas where different advocacies and proposals are threshed out.’8
5: Accessing public finance for resilience building 35 For SWP/ABI, as Briones described:
‘The budget process is at the heart of democracy. Decisions about what government should spend for and who should bear the burden of such expenditures have to be decided democratically, with participation from citizens.’9
It was not only external threats that SWP/ABI dealt with, but also its internal weaknesses. SWP/ ABI admitted that many of its members were not initially familiar with budget planning. SWP’s secretariat coordinator Janet said:
‘We started in 2006 with six organisations and all of us hardly knew anything about the national budget planning process. We were mentored by Professor Leonor Briones, our lead convenor, who also happened to be a former national treasurer of the Philippines. We made a lot of mistakes, but we soon learned along the process of engaging with legislators.’
Many civil society organisations were working on the MDG commitments but did not consider influencing the budget as their primary strategy. Janet explained:
‘We knew the government is obliged to be transparent to the people on where it puts people’s money. But it was much later when we realised that we also had to assert our right to shape the budget and investigate how it is being managed because the public funds come from our taxes.’
While other groups would confront and raise protests to the government, SWP/ABI capitalises on its good relationship with state officials, particularly the legislators, to influence the budget. Janet added:
‘It was partly this push from the legislators and the existing commitment of the government to the MDGs that urged CSOs to get involved in the budget process. We started by covering five concerns in the national budget: education, health, environment, agriculture and macroeconomics. Later on we included social protection and persons with disabilities concerns. With these increasing concerns, our membership has ballooned to 160 organisations. We also keep track of cross-cutting issues on gender and climate change in the budget.’
SWP/ABI was recognised as a unique budget advocacy initiative globally, since legislators partnered with its members in pushing for transparency and people’s participation in the budget process.10 Both parties cooperated with each other. Legislators promoted the advocacy, participated in public hearings, shared budget information and supported the formulation of budget proposals. SWP/ABI members worked with legislators’ staff in analysing social expenditures and in drafting proposals. They also served as subject matter experts during budget deliberations.
Over time, this partnership started reaping victories. For the first time in the country’s history, SWP/ABI was given the opportunity to defend its alternative budget proposal in Congress — an opportunity normally reserved only for government agencies. Legislators from the Senate and Congress understood the value of the alternative budget. Congress included SWP/ABI’s proposal in the national budget deliberations. In 2010, it passed House Bill 3773 institutionalising the participation of civil society organisations in budget hearings and deliberations. SWP/ABI was part of the team that crafted the law and its implementing rules and regulations.
36 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines As SWP/ABI’s membership base broadens, the organisation is able to influence more legislators, intensify its work with government agencies and deeply study the issues within each sector and propose solutions. The agriculture sector benefited from SWP/ABI’s intervention when SWP/ABI lobbied among legislators and executive offices for funds to support coconut fertilisation and intercropping for small-scale coconut farmers, as well as a sustainable livelihood programme for them. Coordinated by Rice Watch and Action Network (RWAN), another Christian Aid partner, the agriculture cluster of SWP/ABI was able to convince the government to include an additional PHP898m (US$19.6m) for these initiatives in the 2012 national budget. The funds were channelled to the Philippine Coconut Authority, increasing to PHP1.5bn (US$32.7m) in 2013 and then to PHP2.2bn (US$48m) in 2015. This is a significant feat for SWP/ABI, considering that the Philippine Coconut Authority’s budget in 2011 was only PHP288m (US$6.2m), when the SWP/ ABI agriculture cluster did not submit any proposal.
All these accomplishments are a product of the members’ initiative to work with government and to analyse and contextualise the social development performance of the country. Many of their budget proposals reflect how risks across the budget sectors are correlated (for example, health to education, environment to health) and suggest programmes that can help address these risks. This is what distinguishes SWP/ABI proposals from traditional government budgets that tend to be compartmentalised and rigid, not adapting to the changing nature of risks in society. Its proposals are the result of constant learning and collaboration among its members, who include development practitioners with a wealth of experiences in the issues of environment, education, health, agriculture, social protection, persons with disabilities, climate change and gender.
While some of its proposals have already been included in the budget of government agencies and are among the items annually approved by legislators, SWP/ABI is relentless in its advocacy for the reduction, if not the abolition, of lump sum funds that remain under the discretion of the president. These types of budget are dangerous and problematic because, as Professor Briones said: ‘They are like blank checks that allow [the] bearer to use taxpayers’ money at will and with very little public accountability.’11 They do not go through the proper budget deliberation process, and their use remains invisible to the public. Through persistent lobbying among the executive and legislative branches of government at the national and local levels, SWP/ABI has managed to remove some of these questionable funds from the national budget. It keeps monitoring the funds and budgets of government agencies that are likewise susceptible to corruption and politics.
Through SWP/ABI, civil society now has a venue to push for genuine budget reform that seeks transparency and accountability of the budget system and the use of taxpayers’ money to improve people’s lives. But in other countries with autocratic governments or where movement of civil society groups is limited, who will ensure that the people’s money serves the public welfare? Where trust is absent between the government and civil society groups, how can the latter exert influence over the country’s fiscal processes? Similar questions will continue to arise as communities and their support groups, such as SWP/ABI, work their way towards resilience.
5: Accessing public finance for resilience building 37 6 Protecting the environment to build resilient communities
In their bid to develop their economies, governments are forced to balance between protecting their natural resources and creating a business environment favourable to foreign investment. Many times, their decision puts the environment at risk as state policies and regulations for protecting the country’s natural resources are subsumed under the overarching goal of economic development. Government leaders may also lack the capacity to use state institutions to protect the environment. Grassroots communities dependent on natural resources thus find themselves struggling against foreign companies and government directives that are partial to the companies, forcing people to leave their land or sacrifice their land and its resources, or subjecting them to unjust business arrangements with the companies. Some of these practices and policies promote the use of chemical pesticides and fertilisers and protect large-scale extractive industries. Grassroots voices remain unheard or stifled, while the space for them to participate in decisions affecting their lives and their environment either does not exist or is limited. Community actions to protect the environment and generate alternative livelihood sources are constrained especially if they threaten the operations of these large-scale extractive industries.
This condition makes the people and the environment vulnerable to different emerging risks. With limited options for diversifying and improving their livelihoods and increasing their assets, people are led to believe they cannot go beyond mere subsistence. Meanwhile, large-scale extractive industries are allowed to operate with minimal or tolerant state control.
This section shows the work of Christian Aid partners with some of the marginalised and vulnerable groups in the country: small-scale farmers and indigenous people. The story of Rice Watch and Action Network (RWAN) describes how farmers mobilised themselves to improve their livelihood and revive the productivity of their farmlands by adapting to the risks posed by extreme, unpredictable weather changes and practising organic farming. In the end, it was not only their lands and livelihood that benefited from their actions; spaces were also opened for them to voice their individual and collective concerns to a larger community. Opportunities were created for them to improve their farming practice through a wider network. The work of Alyansa Tigil Mina (ATM; ‘Alliance to Stop Mining’) with the B’laan indigenous group, on the other hand, saved the community’s ancestral domain from potential large-scale damage by a proposed mining project. Through the help of their growing support network, the B’laan, as well as other communities dependent on these resources, are confident that they can achieve a life beyond subsistence and survival towards overall well-being.
People’s movement against mining: ATM
Tampakan is a municipality of South Cotabato Province, located in southern Philippines. In the mid-1990s, the Philippine Government granted a Financial and Technical Assistance Agreement to Western Mining Corporation (WMC), giving the company permission to explore, develop and utilise mineral deposits in the area. WMC later sold the project to Sagittarius Mines (SMI), which has Glencore, a blue chip company listed on the London Stock Exchange, as one of its shareholders. But before the project could start, the provincial government declared a ban on open-pit mining in South Cotabato.
The Tampakan Copper-Gold Project would have been the largest mining operation in the country and would have established one of the largest copper mines in the world. The proposed project
38 would directly affect five watersheds covering about 3,000 hectares of primary forest that is home to 5,000 people, mostly composed of B’laan indigenous communities. There are five ancestral domains in the area, encompassing 74% of the proposed final mine site. The Tampakan case is a classic story of an indigenous community intent on protecting its ancestral land and a mining company that aims to profit from the land and its resources.
The mining company commenced its activities in the area in early 2000, with reports of abuse and atrocities committed against the B’laan who had been asserting their rights to their land. Lives were lost as the B’laan clashed with the mining company’s security forces and staff. Instead of supporting the B’laan people’s resistance to the mining project, the local government deployed state security personnel to protect mining investments in the area. The military presence escalated the tension and violence in the territory, which further deteriorated when communist and Muslim rebels with their own agenda arrived and also fought with the B’laan. This led to a series of extrajudicial killings in 2012-2013. The B’laan held the security forces accountable for cases of human rights violations against their people and the extrajudicial killings of some of their leaders and relatives. They sought help from military and civil courts. However, justice was slow or, in some cases, denied. Support from government agencies tasked to protect the environment and indigenous people’s rights was wanting; they were even sympathetic to the mining companies. New B’laan leaders favourably disposed to the mining operations were put in place by some government officials in order to supersede the authority of traditional leaders. Local government officials with personal interest backed the mining operations.
Christian Aid partner ATM knew the extent of impact of the mining operations on the environment and the people. It made the mining project its barometer for the success of its campaign against large-scale mining, foreign control and ownership of the country’s mineral resources, and promotion of mining as a poverty reduction strategy. ATM, together with its network member, the Social Action Center of Marbel, intensified its support to the B’laan communities as the security risks and threats mounted. In 2012, ATM and Philippine Misereor Partners organised a fact-finding mission in Tampakan to investigate and validate the cases of rights violations among the B’laan, militarisation in the area, divisions created by the mining company within the B’laan and other residents, and reported unlawful activities of SMI. The military, media, church representatives and government officials participated in the mission. The results of the investigation confirmed all the reports and allegations. A press conference was held and a statement was released by the groups involved in the mission, demanding SMI to stop its operations and allow the B’laan to decide for themselves whether to accept or refuse mining operations in their land.
ATM and its partners used the findings as foundation of their actions to stop SMI’s operations. They organised communities and developed people’s capacities to express and act on their opposition to the mining company. They held Kastolen-Kastifon, or inter-territorial indigenous people (IP) conferences, gathering all the B’laan to discuss how to respond to violence and threats from SMI. In one of these gatherings, they drafted a petition announcing that they would not be involved in the free and prior informed consent (FPIC) process of the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP). This petition paved the way for dialogue between the B’laan and NCIP officials, allowing the B’laan to present their views. With the help of ATM, the B’laan also held meetings with other key government officials, such as the head of the Commission on Human Rights and the Bureau of Mines and Geosciences. ATM further assisted in initiating a congressional inquiry into the human rights violations in the Tampakan mining project. During the inquiry, the former town mayor of Kiblawan, Marivic Diamante, admitted that SMI provided the funds for the military deployment and operations in the area. The Roman Catholic Church helped put pressure on government by launching a petition and engaging other government officials in consultations.
6: Protecting the environment to build resilient communities 39 A number of B’laan families evacuated from their area because of the conflict. To prevent the B’laan from giving in to pressure from the mining company, ATM partners helped them jumpstart their agricultural livelihood. The people invoked their traditional governance practice of decision making, or kastifon, to push for the retention of their traditional leadership. They likewise activated their ancestral defence force to counter any harassment towards the B’laan.
To increase the pressure on government to hold SMI accountable for the conflict and dissuade the company from continuing its plans, ATM popularised the issue in the media. It also collaborated with international groups, such as the London Working Group on Mining in the Philippines and PIPLinks, and Tampakan Forum (a technical working group for the Tampakan anti-mining campaign) that brought the people’s plight to the attention of the international community. ATM delivered a statement during the UN Forum on Business and Human Rights, where it presented the Tampakan case.
After years of strong resistance, mobilisation and advocacy, the B’laan and their support groups won the fight, with the government temporarily suspending the mining project. Military troops pulled out of the area. Armed groups, including the communist and Muslim rebels, also respected the territory of the B’laan after the communities asserted their rights to their land through their ancestral defence force. Consequently, harassment against the B’laan decreased and the people started cultivating their farms once more without fear of being hurt or accosted.
Apart from the strong resistance of the people, the Tampakan mining project remains suspended because of five major obstacles. First, it could not secure an FPIC from the B’laan, which is required for the government to issue the company with an Environmental Compliance Certificate. Second, while the municipal government of Tampakan supports mining activities in the area and has even endorsed the pro-mining ordinances of three villages, the Provincial Environmental Code restricts the use of open-pit mining methods. Third, there are existing disputes and settlements within the territory concerning overlapping tenurial instruments. Agricultural land and prime agricultural land within the mining area are covered by laws separate from the Mining Act. Using them for mining requires the approval of different government agencies. Fourth, because of the huge estimated production value of the mining operations, government agencies are debating whether they should apply a new tax formula for the mining project. Fifth, given the size and potential impact of the project on the environment and communities, the government is still looking for safeguards that will hold the mining company responsible for the permanent impact of its operations even after the mine life of 50 years.
The successful campaign inspired the social action centres of three provinces, including that of South Cotabato, to create a coalition of groups working to protect the same ecosystem. These groups campaign against projects that allow operations of coal mining and coal-fired power plants, promote proper water management, and carry out other advocacy to protect the ecosystem. Called SOCCSKSARGEND-CARE (the acronym for the provinces and cities in the region – South Cotabato, Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, Sarangani and General Santos City), this coalition would serve as a platform for consolidating the various advocacies of member groups, as well as a space where they could link and complement one another’s advocacy work.
The risk of SMI and other mining companies operating in Tampakan is still present. One is still left to ask: With the government’s drive for economic growth, what will happen to the country’s remaining natural resources and the people dependent on these? Where global crises in food and energy can spur the demand for land among foreign states, multinational and national companies, how can marginalised and grassroots communities and their support groups continue to ensure that their land and lives are not sacrificed? The case of Tampakan shows one path that communities facing
40 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines these threats can take. Alternative paths can be sought as risks evolve and uncertainty intensifies. Meanwhile, the success achieved by these communities has bolstered people’s confidence in facing and managing these types of threat. Their confidence is reinforced by the strong links they have formed with the Roman Catholic Church, civil society groups, some state officials, the media and even the international community. While before they were alone in their fight, now they have strong allies helping them protect their ancestral land and pursue a dignified life.
Organising for our land: RWAN and MOFA
Small-scale Filipino farmers remain the second poorest sector in the country after small fisherfolk, earning a daily income of US$3-$4, which is not enough to meet the basic needs of a family of five.12 A majority still use expensive agricultural chemicals that cost them approximately US$250 every cropping. Often, they obtain loans from different sources to finance their farming inputs. In many cases, what they earn during harvest season is not enough for them to repay their debts, thus putting them in an endless cycle of indebtedness.
Harvest every season is highly uncertain, as agricultural productivity is heavily dependent on the weather, which has become increasingly extreme and unpredictable. Added factors include the presence of pests, poor irrigation systems and poor soil quality. The period from 1997 to 1998, for instance, saw one of the Philippines’ worst droughts. Severe typhoons and floods that cost agriculture billions in damages occurred in the following years.
Soil productivity is declining for a number of reasons, one of which is the promotion of chemical- based inputs in the current industrial agriculture system. Even with the increasing use of synthetic fertilisers and pesticides, the growth of harvest yields remains hardly significant to improve the income of farmers, according to the Food and Agriculture Organization.13 Yet the cost of these inputs constitutes almost 75% of farming expenditure in a cropping season. Their effect on the natural environment is also worth noting, as studies have found nitrates in water reservoirs and wells in rural areas in the Philippines, which can directly and indirectly harm people’s health.14
While the agriculture sector employs more labour force than other sectors and contributes a critical public good – food – it continues to suffer from low productivity. This is attributed to the minimal government investment in agriculture, conversion of agricultural land for commercial purposes, and weak agriculture infrastructure, among other reasons.
This is just a glimpse of the economic setbacks the agriculture sector has been enduring for a long time. It does not even capture the emotional, social and physical distress and pressures experienced by farmers as they struggle to survive and recover what was lost.
It was this scenario that pushed Rice Watch and Action Network to start a climate resiliency field school (CRFS) in 2010. RWAN is a group of NGOs and individuals that study and advocate sustainable agriculture production, pro-farmer rice trade policies and increased government support for the rice industry. It opened the CRFS to provide farmers with access to weather or climate information daily, weekly and per season; understanding of its potential negative impact; and advice on how to manage the risks and adapt their farming practices to increasingly extreme or unpredictable weather. RWAN teaches farmers sustainable agriculture or climate-appropriate farming, including systems of rice intensification, biodiversity conservation through varietal seed selection and breeding, organic farming, and rainwater harvesting or rain shelter. It also trains them in farm or livelihood diversification, including organic fertiliser production, seed production, vegetable production and livestock integration. RWAN further emphasises the value of insurance and the importance of farmer organisations in accessing government support programs. Beyond
6: Protecting the environment to build resilient communities 41 promoting sustainable agriculture, it espouses a more comprehensive, dynamic approach that considers past and present risks as well as future threats brought about by extreme, unpredictable weather.
In 2012, farmers from Tubigon, Bohol Province, were in the middle of the season-long CRFS training when they came up with the idea of forming themselves into an association. Raide, the leader of what would become the Matabao Organic Farmers Association (MOFA), recounted:
‘The training had not yet ended when the need to group ourselves just dawned on me and the other farmer trainees. We said that we could not put our future in other people’s hands. It is we who should control it.’
Raide is a retired secondary school teacher. The other farmers, many of whom are his former students, look up to him. One of them, Frank, an agriculturist, said:
‘We formed the group because that is one way we could access government programs and get external funding support. From what we have learned in CRFS, organic farming would be laborious at the start, particularly when we begin producing our own organic fertiliser and pesticides. It would require us to pool together as many raw materials as possible so that we could produce more inputs.’
A few months after the training, MOFA started producing organic fertiliser and selling it to members at a fair price, without interest. This activity was intended to generate funds for the association. Little did the members expect that their market would grow in a few months’ time. Frank was able to link MOFA with buyers from private sector groups. The association also sold fertiliser to private resorts in the province.
To encourage its members to promote and sell its fertiliser, MOFA provides them with incentives. For instance, for every sack of fertiliser sold by a member, MOFA earns US$6 and the farmer gets a US$1 commission.
In 2013, an earthquake and a typhoon destroyed MOFA’s farmer facility and washed away its stock of organic inputs. Instead of giving up, each of the farmer members offered either monetary or non-monetary resources to recover their lost stock. RWAN helped rebuild the facility through a Christian Aid earthquake recovery grant to the province. It also linked MOFA with Greenpeace when the latter distributed organic seeds and fertilisers to farmers in another province who were affected by the typhoon. Australian National University supported MOFA’s organic fertiliser livelihood, while the local government and other farmers bought MOFA’s products. Because of these initiatives, the farmers were able to recover from the aftermath of the earthquake and typhoon more quickly.
Through the CRFS, common learning platforms were created, which farmers then used to study the changing risks to their farms and adopt the appropriate response through agro-ecosystem analysis. Farmer gatherings have developed into a social exercise in which farmers collectively measure and observe their crops, monitor insects and pests, and engage in other farming activities. These have become more than just a part of their season-long CRFS training but a regular activity even after the training has ended, forging solidarity among farmers. Lucas, a farmer member of MOFA, said:
‘I live far from the other farmers so I used to farm alone. But when we started MOFA, we always make it a point to visit the farms of our co-farmers to help them with their concerns.
42 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines They visited my farm before when I asked them to help me check my crops. I am more confident now that I can have better harvests because I have other farmers to talk to about farming. I can reach out to our members and seek help.’
He shared how this activity has changed his farming practice and attitude:
‘Land for me was just a thing to maximise for profit. This was why I kept on using chemical fertilisers. I knew it was bad for our health. In fact, my family did not even consume the crops I planted. But it was also the only way of farming I knew. I was never conscientious and attentive to my farm. CRFS changed this. Now, I visit it daily and observe the insects and my crops. I learned from CRFS that not all insects are bad for the crops. We were taught that one way of protecting our crops from increasingly extreme and unpredictable weather is through organic farming. It not only protects our crops and our land but our health as well.’
MOFA receives guests and learners at the organic fertiliser production facility. (RWAN)
The farmers have grown more interested in learning new methods of organic farming. Frank, who studied agriculture in college, uses the Internet to generate innovative ideas and to network and exchange information with agriculture scientists from other countries. These scientists generously taught the farmers how to formulate organic fertilisers and insecticides that they are now selling to their members and other interested groups.
RWAN believes building the resilience of farmers is a huge task requiring collaboration among various stakeholders, most important of which is the government as the institution mandated to secure the well-being of its citizens. The CRFS greatly relies on the support of the local government in disseminating climate and weather information, and extending the necessary technical assistance to the farmers. This is the reason RWAN ensured the involvement of local government offices early in the inception of the CRFS, giving them a sense of ownership of its outcomes and holding them accountable as duty bearers. The Tubigon municipal agriculture office has come to recognise the value of the CRFS through RWAN’s advocacy work and after
6: Protecting the environment to build resilient communities 43 seeing the positive outcomes of the project in the field. To sustain the intervention, RWAN participated in the government budget planning process and made sure funds were allocated for the project in the annual budget plan. MOFA, in turn, has earned the respect of the municipal agriculture office, which now calls on its members to conduct CRFS training for other farmers.
‘It is rare to see farmers organising themselves and having the initiative to really seek ways to improve their farms and their lives,’ said Yolanda, municipal agriculture officer for Tubigon. ‘They inspire us here in the agriculture office to extend our support to their organisation,’ she added.
With the growth of the organisation comes the personal growth of its members. Lucas said:
‘I never thought I would become a trainer one day. I also did not care much about other people’s farms. Now I find myself teaching other farmers how to prepare organic fertilisers, especially when the municipal agriculture office asks me to be part of the training.’
With its growing reputation in organic farming in the municipality, MOFA became a member of an organic farming association at the provincial level, allowing it to penetrate a wider organic farming circle. Being a part of this network provided members with space for articulating their position on organic product certifications and holding discussions with other farmers about their problems. MOFA has been planning to market its organic fertilisers to a larger market within and outside the province. But not having third party certification prohibits them from doing so. To obtain this certification, each farmer is required to have at least 30 metres of buffer land within their organic farms to ensure protection of the produce from possible chemical contamination. According to Frank, this requirement is not applicable to them, since most of their lands are just half a hectare in size. Only big commercial organic farming companies could comply with it. Recognising that they are up against dominant players in the business, MOFA proposed that instead of complying with this requirement and expanding their market, they would just negotiate a higher price for their products by following the price of commercial organic rice.
All this is a huge feat for RWAN, whose small investment in one municipality has set off a string of outcomes that help build resilient farming communities. The CRFS has changed the attitudes and practice of farmers, who are now proponents of organic farming. Their relationship with the land has improved, as they have become more observant and nurturing to their farms. A learning and collaborative culture has emerged that enables them to address directly any emerging risk that could lead to production failure or loss. Being organised has given them a stronger voice and better leverage in claiming their rights from the duty bearers. Their social capital has broadened. A space for negotiating their rights as organic farmers has been opened. All these are valuable steps towards building their resilience.
Still, their journey towards empowerment is a work in progress, as critical questions remain to be answered: How does one protect the instrument used to generate and disseminate climate information from other hazards such as an earthquake or a power outage to ensure it continues to function during critical weather periods? How can small-scale organic farmers pursue a fair share of the value of their labour and product in a market that is dominated by bigger and influential players? How can the state maintain a balance between the interests of the people and environment and the interests of the corporate elite, when its economy is greatly influenced by the latter? More questions are expected to arise as new risks emerge. But the transformation and accomplishment of grassroots organisations such as MOFA raise one’s confidence in the ‘power within’ of small-scale farmers to create their own path to resilience.
44 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines 7
Learning for resilience
The previous chapters have shown the complexity and diversity of risks that constantly evolve and interact with one another. Addressing them therefore calls for solutions that are flexible enough to accommodate shifts in the risk environment and opportunities available. The need to study the environment constantly is clear. While learning about things that have yet to happen is challenging and can often be frustrating, holding on to static knowledge and the status quo limits one’s adaptive capacity to address new threats, thus increasing one’s vulnerability. There must be personal and institutional humility to recognise and accept the uncertain and to agree to transform thinking and practice that are no longer suitable to the current realities.15 Learning, therefore, is a core element of building adaptive capacity within the individual person, the family, and the community and across organisations. In this context, however, learning is not confined to knowledge gained from training and printed materials. It involves studying risks and opportunities and constantly re-examining the changing power landscape to expand one’s ability to anticipate changes, adapt to them and thrive amidst diversity and uncertainties.
The stories presented here demonstrate how the drive for constant learning by Christian Aid partners has helped address these uncertainties. FORGE recognised that it had to integrate family work into its existing community organising approach when it learned that the social gains were not felt by families and individuals. SPI grounded its community organising work in khalifah and interfaith work to heal deep wounds of hatred and neglect among the Moro and restore good relationships across all faiths. Both FORGE and SPI were able to address the gaps of the traditional community organising approach. ATM recalibrated its campaign schemes and networking strategies when it realised that it was opposing a powerful and influential mining company. To address the uncertainties emerging from climate risks, RWAN went beyond promoting sustainable agriculture to espousing a more comprehensive, dynamic approach through its climate resiliency field school. Philnet introduced innovations in the market chain to assure poor woman weavers of a constant supply of raw materials and a market for their nito plates.
This next story shows why a development organisation modified its ways of working to assist an urban poor community that is facing multiple risks. It presents how its culture of learning has evolved from enhancing organisational capacities to making paradigm shifts in organisational practices and actions.
In Davao City, several urban villages are situated along the banks of Davao River. A number of informal settler families reside in high-risk areas, such as river easements and along the shoreline. Mindanao Land Foundation (MinLand) recognised that the location posed a threat to the communities. MinLand is an NGO which has been working on various concerns of urban poor communities in Davao City since 1989, including land tenure security and land use planning, voluntary resettlement and social housing, community organising and governance, community savings and credit. It launched a disaster risk reduction programme so that the villages would be ready in case of floods, flash floods or fire. Community-based disaster action teams were formed, communities were mobilised to implement disaster preparedness activities and advocacy work was pursued with the local government. MinLand also helped families develop a resettlement action and framework plan.
45 MinLand knew, however, that this programme was not enough to protect the families from the imminent threats of flood and eviction. In a workshop, MinLand studied the threats with regional civil society partners in Mindanao. The city government believed the floods were caused by the city’s poor drainage system, but scientific studies pointed to three headwaters as sources of floodwater. Davao River is a complex ecosystem, with its waters coming from three headwaters whose geopolitical boundaries lie in the largely upland and rural portions of Davao City and two provinces. It traverses urban lowland and rural upland communities, where modes of living and governance are diverse. These areas are exposed to multiple risks within the watershed: land tenure security, urban community development, voluntary resettlement, poor health and sanitation, and overlapping governance.
It was clear that addressing the issues individually would not solve the complex problem of flooding in the urban lowlands of Davao City. MinLand thus asked: Why don’t A community member monitors the we also intervene upstream, where floodwaters come waters of Davao River as part of the from? Why don’t we adopt an ecosystem-based approach community’s disaster preparedness that will link these vulnerable communities and allow measures. (MinLand) them to prepare for these risks?
By taking on a new approach, MinLand was aware that it was treading on new ground that would require the organisation to step out of its comfort zone and apply new strategies and ways of working. MinLand married its experience in disaster preparedness with its experience in community governance and housing associations from previous Misereor and Christian Aid- assisted projects to identify suitable strategies and approaches. It formed disaster action teams and installed water-level gauges in upstream rural areas. Since the risks covered a range of sectors, MinLand had to expand its links horizontally by collaborating with 32 civil society groups, scientists, academics and other relevant actors. Climate scientists and geologists were asked to help install and operate a flood control system linking upland and downstream areas and to teach MinLand staff how to interpret technical information in a way that the communities would understand. With 113 communities lying along the banks of Davao River, MinLand saw the need for accurate and swift exchange of information between upland and downstream communities. Scientists assisted in developing a community-based terrain analysis that could help improve the resettlement action plans and framework for the informal settler families.
MinLand acknowledged that it had to learn and develop new tools for responding to the current needs and context. Simply relying on information from the national weather station was not helpful because it did not consider local rainfall patterns and topographic, micro-climate and geological conditions that strongly affected the flow, time and strength of floodwaters in the Davao River watershed. MinLand engaged its team working on post-conflict community development in central Mindanao to mentor the team in Davao City on how to combine standard risk analysis tools, such as PVCA, with other non-risk analysis instruments, such as thematic maps and terrain analysis. The team from central Mindanao used comprehensive and expanded thematic maps to establish the poverty and conflict situation in the communities, as well as to develop, monitor and evaluate the progress of their action plans. These same tools also helped
46 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines the Davao City team further understand the nature and potential impact of floodwaters from the watershed. This intra-organisational learning is embedded in MinLand’s practice, with the Davao City team likewise mentoring the central Mindanao team in disaster risk reduction.
MinLand recognised that solving the problem of flooding would require intervention upstream as well as downstream. This meant moving beyond its urban strategies to include those that were suitable for rural areas. The ecosystem-based or watershed approach led the group to collaborate with the Davao City government and the local governments of two other provinces. MinLand had to broaden its network vertically and prepare itself to work with 137 village governments, three municipal governments, two provincial governments and one city government. It volunteered to sit in the governing board of the Davao River Water Quality Management Area, composed of government agencies and government-owned and controlled corporations (such as the Davao City Water District), academe, scientists, communities and the provincial government. MinLand was involved in developing and implementing plans and agreements to protect the watershed, mitigate floods along Davao River, improve water quality and ensure the safe relocation of informal settler families. It also took on tasks and posts within the Davao City government to guarantee that policy planning considered the welfare of informal settler families. It embraced the challenges that came with its new roles and made sure community concerns were highlighted and addressed in these spaces.
MinLand leveraged its membership in the governing board of the Davao River Water Quality Management Area to advance the advocacy points it had agreed with other civil society organisations in the region. One of these is to strengthen governance among the vulnerable and poorest communities in the urban lowland and rural upland areas. This would ensure all development, climate change adaptation and disaster risk reduction initiatives are working coherently for the communities’ benefit in both the short and long term. MinLand also posed difficult questions to the board: How do we address the resettlement concerns of informal settler families living along the riverbanks in rural and urban areas? How do we stop private factories from polluting the river? These questions had been asked countless of times and yet were resolved with dry technical fixes.
Studying the landscape and the risks it posed, MinLand and its network continued to reflect and analyse how urban and rural advocacies could be connected. In one of the board sessions, MinLand brought up the issue pertaining to the high coliform count in Davao River. Government officials and some stakeholder groups often blamed informal settler families and their livestock for this, but MinLand challenged the board to look into large industries and subdivisions located near the river easements. It also proposed that the board investigate a dumpsite set up by the city government in an upland area near the waterways. The risks posed by the dump site to the communities directly surrounding it and all the communities dependent on the Davao River convinced MinLand to rethink the communities it would prioritise for its governance and resilience project. It thus included one of the communities located near the dumpsite in this project.
Cognisant of the complex risks facing the communities and the need to go beyond ‘development as usual’ interventions, MinLand was prompted to ask difficult questions that would challenge its status quo. From building the organisation’s capacity for disaster risk reduction and learning or acquiring new tools and knowledge to enrich this capacity, MinLand developed and expanded its strategies to combine the community-based approach with the ecosystem-based approach.
It was this culture of learning that enabled MinLand to pursue its advocacies with an openness to constructively criticising its own actions and innovating, and learning and relearning ways
7: Learning for resilience 47 of working based on the realities on the ground. It took on new roles and engagements that could produce outcomes helpful to urban poor communities in better adapting and responding to the risks. It widened its network vertically to gain more leverage in influencing policy and decision-making processes in government and horizontally to produce sound analyses and plans to mitigate flooding in the city.
Change is often feared or avoided by organisations, as it puts them in an ambiguous state. What if the new strategies fail? Why can’t we stick to our tried and tested approaches? Why change our organisational goals? Why take on new tasks when we have yet to accomplish our present tasks? How open are organisations to reinventing themselves and their strategies? How can it be easier for organisations to reinvent themselves? Yet as the case of MinLand has shown, development organisations have to expand their adaptive capacity and be ready to create paradigm shifts internally to address the complex risks and reduce the uncertainties faced by poor communities.
48 Strengthening Power from Below: Stories of resilience from the Philippines Endnotes
1 Christian Aid, Poverty Over, London: Christian Aid, 2009, p7.
2 Ibid, p3.
3 Christian Aid. Thriving, Resilient Livelihoods: Christian Aid’s approach, London: Christian Aid, 2012, p1.
4 Ibid.
5 Christian Aid, Partnership for Change: The power to end poverty, London: Christian Aid, 2012.
6 Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), Climate Change 2007: Impacts, adaptation and vulnerability, Contribution of Working Group II to the Fourth Assessment, Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2007; N. Klein, The Shock Doctrine: The rise of disaster capitalism, London: Penguin Group, 20 07.
7 Leonor Magtolis Briones, Alternative Budget Initiative: Three-year experience, Quezon City: Social Watch Philippines, 2010.
8 Social Watch Philippines, ‘Fulfill promises for budget reform!’, 2013, accessed 30 May 2015, https://socialwatchphilippines.wordpress.com/category/alternative-budget-initiative/
9 See note 7.
10 See note 7.
11 Social Watch Philippines, ‘Group welcomes P22 billion cut from PSEPF’, 2013, accessed 30 May 2015, https://socialwatchphilippines.wordpress.com/category/financing-for-development/
12 National Statistical Coordination Board (NSCB), ‘Fishermen, farmers and children remain the poorest basic sectors’, 2014, last updated 30 April 2015, accessed 30 April 2015, www. nscb.gov.ph/pressreleases/2014/PSA-%20PR-20140704-SS2-01 _ poorestsector.asp
13 Greenpeace, Agrochemical Use in the Philippines and Its Consequences to the Environment, Philippines: Greenpeace, 2008.
14 Ibid.
15 CCS, MaCEC and SAC-Northern Quezon, ‘A Voyage to Disaster Resilience in Small Islands: A guide for local leaders’, Quezon City, Philippines, 2011.
49
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