Donate NowIt's been three years since I last worked in the Philippines. I'm back and heading south. Not much has changed except that it's summertime and there's fresh fighting down in Mindanao.
I actually never thought I'd be away for so long. When I begrudgingly returned to the US in May 2004, I swore I'd fly back to Mindanao within six months with thousands of dollars in photo grant money. I had been making pictures on that sometimes volatile-sometimes tranquil island since 2001 and always felt inspired by the tenacity and warmth of people who had been in conflict with one another for 30 years. In fact I've never felt so welcome in a place with so much tension, except maybe the West Bank where people gave me free falafel sandwiches and taxi rides. I'm not sure Palestinians can sing ballads as well as Filipinos though.
With a smile on their face, a lot of people, both Catholic and Muslim, told me I'd get kidnapped, beheaded, shot or robbed during those years. But there was something tangibly magnetic about the fight for land and self-determination that sucked me in and kept me on Mindanao in spite of perceived, and occasionally real threats.
In the end, nothing happened aside from the development of a lot of photos and good relationships. I spent all of my money, but at least my head was still on my shoulders when I left.
Alas, six months eventually turned into 36 months. But better late then never.
Sadly, I am not returning to a more peaceful Mindanao. The southwestern region of Sulu just blew up again last week.
A renegade commander loyal to the jailed Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) leader Nur Misuari attacked a Philippine army post near the town of Panamao with mortars. Two soldiers and a civilian died. The army retaliated with airstrikes and launched a renewed ground offensive against Malik's men. Malik took to the hills after spending another day taking potshots at remote military detachments. The five-day period of unrest displaced 45,000 civilians which represents close to 15 percent of Jolo's population. It's been the largest mass evacuation since 2005 when Malik had staged another uprising in the same area.
Many locals have gotten used to packing up their homes, sometimes refrigerators and all, and running to the nearest town for safety. But it's one hell of an existence to continually stay on the run and raise children in deplorable camps on the edge of dirt roads.
Even if the Armed Forces of the Philippines neutralizes Malik's breakaway faction of the country's first Islamic secessionist group, Joloanos will probably remain the victims of pocket war for a long, long time. Battles flare up for a day, or a week, then fizzle out. A tense calmness will return for the next several months, then all hell blows up again. Like most wars, it is a messy scramble essentially over who gets what. The problem is that the people dying and running from danger never get much in the beginning, or at the end.
I'm not sure what to expect to see when I head down there in two days. The conflict could still be raging, or it could be dying down. When I was visited Jolo for the first time in 2002, the Army kicked me off the island because it said the al-Qaeda linked Abu Sayyaf had plotted to kidnap me. It may have been an attempt to scare me away. I never saw any dude in sunglasses tailing my movements. If anyone followed me it was probably military or police intelligence trying to figure out what I ate for breakfast and what kind of cigarettes I smoked. This time around I'm determined to see more and stay longer, threat or not threat.
I'll write more once I'm en route…..