Collusion and collision in Muslim Mindanao

Francisco Lara Jr.

T he eruption of violence and the declaration of martial law in Maguindanao exposes the
dynamics of collaboration and conflict between allies who advance their interests in
conditions of war. Without this backdrop the recent declaration of martial law will be seen
as baseless, unnecessary, and rife with hidden agendas. Why should government declare
martial law in an area which had been under de-facto military rule over the past two
weeks?

To follow this reasoning is to insist that martial law in Maguindanao constitutes an overkill
given the arsenal of coercive instruments that the central state commands. Yet the
imposition actually makes sense when seen through the prism of political economy – or the
shifting power relations between Malacanang and Maguindanao, and between Ampatuan
and the other warlord clans of Mindanao. In short, martial law possesses political traction
even if the legal basis does not exist.

Prior to the massacre the Ampatuan clan was the “stationary bandit” in Maguindanao and
the overlord of the ARMM. Witness the line of governors from the ARMM that made
obeisance to Andal Sr. and pledged their unwavering support to his regime. It
demonstrates the elite bargain purchased and coerced by the Ampatuan clan among the
Moro elite, which transformed the regional authority into a powerful force unmatched by
previous administrations.

For the first time in the ARMM’s history, powerful governors marched in step with the
overlord, condoning years of violence and corruption in exchange for a share in the licit
and illicit revenues to be gained from a region that is part of the Philippine state only in
name and location.

Meanwhile, the ruling coalition bound itself to the dominant clan through an arrangement
that brought huge revenues and state-of-the-art weaponry to the latter in exchange for the
votes and violence that secured the authority of the ruling coalition. Collaboration
facilitated electoral fraud and a subsequent cover-up. Collaboration enabled the state to
harness the clan’s armed threat to ensure compliance among competitors and to protect
the instigators. Collaboration provided the muscle that would stem any intervention or
meddling by rebel forces and other armed groups.

But elite bargains are by nature extremely fragile, and fraught with complications. They are
also confusing, especially when the state engages in the same illicit activities which it
should be suppressing. So when we see guns and ammunition stamped with DND and AFP
logos in the possession of ruthless paramilitaries, we are shocked by the collusion between
rulers and warlords who partake from the same bounty gained from the underground
trade in illegal weapons.

The key is to see the agents of both sides in the political divide, i.e., rulers and warlords, as
rival groups vying for the same scarce economic and political resources, alternately
colluding and colliding with each other, faced with the same incentive to gain more at the
expense of the other. The same may be said about the inter-clan warfare that erupted in
Central Mindanao, where demographic pressures were partly to blame according to
conflict analyst Ed Quitoriano. In his view, the violence was a direct result of the
diminishing resources available in terms of territory and government positions. These
could no longer accommodate the children and descendants of the patriarchs who wanted
to carve their own space within the region.

The arrangement approximates what the conflict scholar David Keen calls a ‘sell game’
(rigged game), where rivals collude based on the shared aim to “make money” and to “stay
alive”, or collide when one party undermines the other. The alliance can endure over long
periods of time if each side recognizes the possibilities and limits of the game. However, the
game eventually ends when one, or both players over-reach. This was the case in 2001,
when President Joseph Estrada’s "over-reach" led to Chavit Singson’s withdrawal from a
bargain that came dangerously close to his own annihilation. The Maguindanao massacre
reflects the same "over-reach" that now dooms the partnership with Ampatuan.

In such a scenario, conflict becomes the fruit of collaboration. The side effect of a ruptured
alliance is that a rival who knows the real score may turn from concealing towards
revealing this deadly arrangement. Worse, the rival may engage in armed confrontation
that can threaten the security of the entire ruling coalition.

This is when a massacre becomes useful, and militarization becomes inevitable.

The unintended consequence of the Maguindanao massacre was to provide the rationale
and recourse to militarization. Militarization in turn puts the squeeze on a rival who is
punished and coerced to accept the new set of rules, i.e., a new elite bargain. In this context
martial law is simply the next logical step in a politico-military rescue effort aimed at
engineering a smooth transition from one clan to another, away from the prying eyes of
media, the international community, and the public.

The ultimate beneficiaries are the national political elites including some Moro elites
hungry for the same privilege and power which Ampatuan possessed. This new alliance
appears dead-set on redressing the power imbalance built and nurtured through years of
protection, corruption, and the use of local elites for black ops.

Martial law cripples the Ampatuan clan’s chances of maintaining the same politico-military
dominance, and may be hard put maintaining a significant fraction of its influence and
firepower. This does not mean that the Ampatuan clan should be written off, only that the
conditions for a rebound will not emerge until some sort of palatable justice is served, or a
new arrangement is forged with the state, probably under the next administration.
Nevertheless, the ruling coalition is now in a position to redistribute power to other
contenders and to restore the political momentum in their hands.

DILG Secretary Renato Puno’s comments on the likely transition are illustrative. He argues
that vice-governors will replace governors, vice-mayors will replace mayors, so on and so
forth. Following the constitutional provision that prohibits military governance over
civilian authority, the Ampatuan clan will be coerced into ceding power to the next link in
the civilian chain of command. In the interim, these new political authorities may share the
same surname and are likely to be clones of the Ampatuans. Eventually, a new warlord clan
will emerge to trump the rest.

The situation teaches us to analyze the conflict in Muslim Mindanao by looking at violence
and conflict as a system where the economic and political interests of warlords and rulers
alternately collude and collide. That knowledge will in turn highlight the fatal flaw that
produced the bloodshed on November 23, 2009. In a region where political animosities
were often resolved by gerrymandering the political geography to accommodate diverse
and powerful claimants or by threatening overwhelming force, the government relied
instead on a strategy which it is slowly getting used to. Apprised of the looming violence
between the Ampatuan and Mangudadatu clan, the President and her operators tried to fix
the problem by convincing the latter to drop their electoral challenge. In short – to back-off.

As we all know, that strategy failed with tragic consequences.

Francisco Lara Jr. is a Research Associate at the Crisis States Research Center, Development
Studies Institute, London School of Economics and a Fellow of the La Liga Policy Institute.