Seeds of Insurgency

This is the December 2018 original version of my story published on Rappler.com in two parts.

MARAWI, Philippines — “That is the ideal death,” 24-year-old aspiring filmmaker Sakeena* said. For her, to be a freedom fighter — a Mujahideen — is the greatest honor for a Muslim.

In her college freshman year, Sakeena eyed a three-month training with an armed group to prepare for an upcoming Jihad — an Arabic word often associated with war against non-Muslims, but can also pertain to efforts for the betterment of society. She wanted to follow in the footsteps of her father, a member of the separatist group Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF), whose story she only knew about through his diary.

Her father, she said, believed that dying in a Jihad as a Mujahideen is the greatest expression of faith. “That’s the only thing that has driven him, for the sake of Allah.”

Sakeena lives in what used to be a prosperous city in Southern Philippines — the Islamic City of Marawi . It was heavily destroyed when local armed group Maute took over the city on May 23, 2017. The Maute previously pledged allegiance to the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) in 2014.

Many of the fighters that came were like just Sakeena — young Filipino Muslims or Moros of various ethnic descents hailing from different provinces in the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM). Most were aged 18 to 27 years old, according to multiple first-hand accounts from fighters’ acquaintances themselves, and as affirmed by a source in the Philippine Army.

20-year old Zaldy* too, wanted to be part of it. “I want to be a Mujahideen. Because as they promise, paradise is assured when you die” he said.

For him to be equipped with the necessary skills he needed for the biggest day of his life, he underwent military reserve training in a nearby city. His graduation from the program happened on the day of the Marawi siege.

“My friends kept on sending me text messages. ‘Where are you? We’re here in Marawi!’ I thought of going home to join. I called up my friends and asked what their plans were. ‘Are we going?’ Some did remain in Marawi, ‘We’re joining!’” Zaldy recounted.

Two of his cousins and a number of his friends joined the Siege.

What could have driven these young minds at an age when they are expected to be finishing college and starting professional careers?

Nearing the two year mark since the Marawi Siege, we look at the factors that produced the young fighters that came to Marawi, and how these stand in 2019 as the Philippine government and the ARMM moves one step closer to ending decades of armed conflict with a new law that grants further autonomy to Filipino Muslims. A test of narratives will likewise be at play as this comes at a time when ISIS’ operations is shifting towards Southeast Asia.

(LEFT) Zaldy was on his way to join his friends in the Marawi Siege on May 23, 2017, but was stopped at checkpoints. “My friends and I usually have the same life story — single parents, broken families”, he said. (RIGHT) “For me, dying as a Mujahideen is the ideal death”, said Sakeena who thought of joining Maute-ISIS training, but was discouraged by her mother.

Driven

It’s not the money. Months of interviews and research revealed a central theme: a persisting, deeply rooted frustration among the Moro youth.

This shared frustration stems from the discrimination and marginalization that Filipino Muslims experience both on a national and personal level, especially when outside the ARMM, said Acram Latiph, an expert on conflict resolution at Mindanao State University (MSU) in Marawi City.

Children look on in West Calocan, Marawi City. Even though their community was not directly affected by the conflict, homes were found to be heavily looted after government forces occupied the place.

“It boils down to the feeling that you do not belong,” added Latiph.

Islamic scholars note that no Filipino Muslim has been elected to a national post since 1992. The last was former Senator Mamintal A. J. Tamano from Tamparan in Lanao del Sur.

“Muslims are frustrated in a sense that they are not really participating in the government. In the Senate, is there a Muslim? We are no longer in the times of Alonto and Tamano. Yes, there are those appointed cabinet positions. But in sensitive posts like security, are we appointed there? We are always eyed with suspicion,” says Hamid Barra, President of the National Ulama Conference of the Philippines.

“We want to have a constructive participation in governance”, added Barra.

For Zaldy, it was more personal. “Whenever I introduced myself as a Muslim, people would distance themselves.” He studied primary and secondary school in Manila.

Discrimination is more felt by women donning Islamic pieces like the hijab. Some shared having difficulty hailing taxis, and taking longer in security inspections when in Manila.

“It is like you’re not trusted if you’re a Muslim”, said Zaldy.

This feeling has been passed on for generations because the reason to be angry and frustrated is still there, said Latiph, who himself felt the discrimination in the 2000s when he applied for jobs in Makati City, a business district adjacent to Manila.

Historical grievances

This frustration also roots from the Moros’ long list of historical grievances that are fluidly handed down across generations through oral narratives. Ask any adolescent about what may have caused the status quo and they will be quick to point out specific events in history where the Moros felt shortchanged by the national government.

“One of the reasons I found was the Jabidah Massacre,” Sakeena stated first. “Not only that, there were many other massacres”. She then ran through a list of events, spanning way back to the Spanish occupation down to the time of former President Ferdinand Marcos, when the infamous massacre of at least 23 Muslim recruits happened.

Latiph said it can be relatively easy for Moro youth to relate with the stories of their grandfathers because little has changed since their time. “That oral narrative is transferred from children to children, over generations. So that feeling of persecution dating back to the spanish (occupation) was actually preserved.”

The Muslims of Mindanao have insisted for decades that they were never conquered by the Spaniards in their 400-year occupation of the Philippine islands, hence, is not part of the territory it ceded to the United States via Treaty of Paris in 1898. In 1946, alongside the declaration of Philippine independence, Mindanao and Sulu was officially annexed as part of the nation’s territory.

Source: A Nation Under Endless Tyranny by Salah Jubair

The very events that Sakeena enumerated eventually paved the way for the creation of armed separatist movements within Mindanao. In 1971, the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) was founded by Nur Misuari, an alumni of a government program aimed at “integrating” Muslims to other Filipinos in the north. Another group, the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) was later formed by defectors of the MNLF who were dissatisfied with the “hollow” peace deal it signed with then-President Marcos. Splinter factions have since grown to a number of fully fledged separatist movements.

The most highlighted in oral narratives are military offensives targeted at these separatist movements in Mindanao. Since 1970, majority of the 100,000 to 150,000 lives lost are separatists and civilians — accounting for 70 percent of total deaths — while the remainder are government troops.

What were celebrated military victories created a fertile environment where anger and frustration could be funneled towards more armed violence. Each event has inevitably produced Martyrs or Shahid, and subsequently “children of martyrs” — sons and daughters who pick up where their fathers and brothers left off — only now, with more reasons to do so.

(LEFT) Residents of Marawi City came home to almost nothing five months after the city’s liberation, Saturday April 7, 2018. Displaced settlers from the city were given a schedule of 3 days to retrieve whatever they can from their homes starting. Residents found their life’s work either destroyed, burnt, or looted. (RIGHT) What seemed like government victories at first create an environment where anger and frustration flourish. Army checkpoints remind some citizens of Marawi how these government forces destroyed their homes.

Poor Governance

Though the ARMM was established in 1990 as an answer to the Moros’ call for autonomy and self-governance, even the Philippine government itself said in 2015 that it was a “failed experiment.” Incompetent and self-serving officials have been elected through the years, steering the region towards underdevelopment and eventually, poverty.

Sakeena believes the role of the government is for the betterment of people’s lives, but this is something she has always felt deprived of.

Zaldy, who grew up where vote buying was a norm, says dirty politics and corrupt officials are to blame for the underdevelopment that has happened. “Many politicians here in the ARMM have made a business out of being mayors, that is the reason why other Moros are getting left behind, and why others are not able to receive education.”

Lack of development and poor education has left many with little to no economic opportunities aside from working in government offices. Not everyone is given the opportunity to be a productive member of society, and as a result may become marginalized. This is where armed groups come in, with the promise of steady compensation and a sense of accomplishment.

Displaced youth play at a temporary settlement site outside Marawi City. “The longer people remain displaced, the more they are becoming vulnerable, not only to violent extremism but to other crimes (as well).” said Tirmizzy Abdullah of the Mindanao State University Institute of Peace and Development.

In Lanao del Sur, where Marawi City is located, 74.3 percent of the population lived under the poverty threshold in 2015, according to the Family Income and Expenditure Survey (FIES) released by the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA), making it the poorest province in the Philippines.

ARMM itself is the poorest region in the country with at least 59 percent of the population living below the poverty level, according to the same report.

As of 2016, there have been at least four armed-groups operating in the region.

Misunderstood Islam

Modern extremist groups like the ISIS and its affiliates target the Filipino Muslim youth’s compounded frustration, which has been worsened by the historical grievances and poor governance that the Moros have gone through as a people. A misrepresented understanding of Islam and Jihad serves as the final key ingredient and justification for taking up arms.

“If there is misinterpretation, there is a resulting misguidance”, said Barra.

For Sakeena and Zaldy, the promised perfect afterlife was the biggest lure. “When you die as a Mujahideen, heaven is guaranteed. As long as your intentions are right, and it is for the sake of Allah,” Sakeena said.

Islamic leaders who sympathize with ISIS use out of context verses from the Qur’an to reinforce their messaging. The Surah Al-Taubah 29 is a favorite. It begins with “Fight those who do not believe in Allah or in the Last Day” and ends on “fight until they give the jizyah (tax) willingly while they are humbled.” When read on its own, it appears to support the extremist group’s cause.

Because it is written in Arabic, understanding the meaning of religious Islamic text is tricky. One has to learn the language first to be able to read it. To make sense of its contents is an entirely different discipline altogether.

While Surah Al-Taubah 29 was revealed and given meaning during the time of an offensive by Byzantines and pro-Roman tribes against Muslims, extremists know there is still a literacy gap and exploit verses like this very well. They interpret only on the superficial aspect of the verse according to Barra, ignoring the context or circumstances surrounding its revelation.

For some living in poverty, nothing can be more rewarding than taking part in this version of Jihad backed by verses from the Qur’an. Coupled with a promise of sustained financial support, it becomes a truly potent recruitment tool. “Whether he lives or dies, he still wins. Then, you’ll be rewarded financially as a bonus. How do you fight this kind of threat?” Latiph wondered.

To the well-educated, recruitment methods exploit emotional facets that young Moros can heavily relate to like conflicts in other Muslim nations around the world. The perception that “Islam is under attack” came out as a significant factor for supporting violence, according to a study done in 2017 by the Development Alternatives Incorporated (DAI), a private development company based in Maryland, USA.

Filipino Muslim youth relate heavily to other Islam nations around the world. “The countries of our fellow Muslims are being destroyed. Will you let that happen to us here one day as well?” Miriam recalled one debate with her friends who eventually joined ISIS fighters.

Miriam, a 27-year old advocate from Marawi City, recalled many debates with two of her closest friends about their opinion on the situation in other Muslim countries. “Gaza is being bombed, so is Palestine. The countries of our fellow Muslims are being destroyed! Will you let that happen to us here as well?”, she remember being asked. She eventually found out they joined Maute-ISIS fighters in the Marawi Siege.

“We had so many dreams together. Their hearts were so kind. We had plans to publish magazines for Muslim women.” She described them as well-off and intelligent advocates of women empowerment. But she noticed two topics became constants in 2016: Their growing frustration for other Muslim nations, and their inclination to get things done quick locally.

Miriam’s friends echoed ISIS’ aim of establishing Muslim-led states known as Caliphates, where Islamic traditions like the Shariah Law will be strictly implemented.

“They were in a hurry. They wanted an instant Caliphate, instant Shariah”, she recalled.

Race for time on the Marawi rehabilitation

Experts are now keeping an eye on the crucial rehabilitation of war-torn Marawi. Homes remain in rubble and inaccessible, as hundreds of thousands remain displaced due to the crisis. Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) are becoming more and more vulnerable, and less patient each day.

“We do not want to be forever IDP. It’s very disempowering. The people have the right for safe and dignified return. It has something to do with identity. Because if you can’t return, then what are you?” said historian Dr. Tirmizy Abdullah of MSU-Institute of Peace and Development.

Even the groundbreaking ceremony for the city’s rehabilitation itself, with its numerous delays, was a red flag for many. It eventually pushed through on October 30, and promised Marawians a homecoming by late 2020.

On November 18, it was reported that the ‘Master Plan’ for the rehabilitation will be out in a “couple of weeks” according Secretary Eduardo del Rosario, chair of the interagency government group in charge of facilitating all rehabilitation efforts, Task Force Bangon Marawi (TBFM). As of writing, the plan is nowhere to be found.

The sight of a ruined city of Marawi can be used by extremists for their recruitment propaganda. “The narrative is slowly morphing, slowly morphing into something like a monster”, warned Latiph.

Villarosa acknowledged the risks if the rehabilitation is stalled. “The resentment and anger of the people can be turned against the government”. He added that there are groups trying to take advantage the current situation, as recruitment is reportedly still ongoing.

“How long will the narrative stay that way, where people believe that the problem was the Maute-ISIS?” Latiph asked, warning of shifting sentiments. “Now, the biggest problem for us peace advocates is that the narrative is slowly morphing. Slowly morphing into something like a monster, where people will believe that it was the actually the government causing all the trouble. And this is because of the slow rehabilitation.”

The threat of ISIS still looms over Marawi more than a year after the 5-month siege that destroyed a large part of the city.

Seeds of the future

Will the Marawi Siege be added to the Moros’ long list of historical grievances? Will the ever-elusive peace be attained in Mindanao? Perhaps, only time will tell.

History may not be on the side of the Philippine government if its actions remain reflective of past mistakes that has produced the very fighters that came to Marawi.

“You can easily call them terrorist if you may, but there are other ways to attain peace without using violence,” said Villarosa who advocates conflict resolution with minimal use of force. Vulnerabilities should be addressed early on so people would not see arms as relevant, he said. A process that takes a long time, but for him is achievable.

Breaking the cycle of poverty and ignorance is a necessary step, said civic leader Samira Gutoc-Tomawis. She emphasized this can be achieved through a better-governed education system in the region, where local Arabic schools like the Madrasah will be regulated and supported by the government.

Latiph also believes people need to be assured of a better future. One way, he says, is through “gainful employment” where a sense of purpose and financial stability can be achieved.

The Bangsamoro Organic Law (BOL) promises to fill those gaps. The BOL is a landmark piece of legislation aimed at answering most, if not all, of the grievances and needs of the Bangsamoro people. It was signed into law by Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte on the 8th of August 2018. In it, a new and more autonomous governing entity will replace the ARMM in the form of the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region (BAR).

A plebiscite will be held in Mindanao on the 21st in January 2019 for cities and provinces to vote on their inclusion to the BAR.

Youth play at the Lanao Lake near West Calocan, Marawi City.

A new Jihad

Zaldy’s and Sakeena’s view of Jihad was shaken when they saw fellow Filipino Muslims struggling in evacuation centers days after the Siege. “Look at what happened to our fellow Muslims, they are the ones suffering. What more if we were part of those who did this to them?” Zaldy remembered contemplating with his friends.

He has since been active in relief operations, and a constant advocate of using peaceful means. He now tells other Moro youth to let go the mindset of revenge, “we can’t live in the past.”

Zaldy firmly believes education is key. He is taking a criminology course in Marawi, aspiring to be a police officer one day. He says he wants to be a role model to other policemen, and correct the misguided practices they have been accustomed to.

Sakeena now works as a social worker for a government office in Marawi, helping fellow Marawians who were affected by the crisis.

She also dreams of becoming a filmmaker someday, so she can use her craft to amplify the voices of Moros.

With renewed eyes and a stronger sense of purpose, she now looks up to professionals who ‘fight’ for Islam without the use violence. These are doctors, lawyers, and social workers, many of whom she personally know.

“I can now say I am one of them, those who are working for the future generations. No matter how small in number those ‘fighting’ without violence are, there still has to be. Because if there will be none left, our generation may forget the struggles the Bangsamoro has gone through as a people,” she said.

“Even though I wasn’t able to join the siege, there are still other ways to do Jihad. That’s what I’m doing now.”

Note: All quotations have been translated to English. Subjects’ names have been changed for safety.