Book Reviews


Some books leave you better educated. Some books give you a sense of having located something. And what have I found in this book?
A compendium of data and a little more: Fine points, interesting information, entertaining details. Some samplers: Unlike women negotiators who have the talent for “[translating] harsh words into conciliatory statements,” men, being partisans to conflict, tend to feed information to one party or another; ergo, they will never do as messengers of peace. Appeal to genealogy and common ancestors is one way of effectively stopping further bloodshed, but in many places, kinship is no longer valued as much as blood money. Blood money is usually fixed at no lower than PhP100,000.00 excluding carabaos and other goods that may be asked by the aggrieved party or voluntarily offered by the offender. Traditional and religious leaders are no longer much sought in conflict-settlement; politicians and local government executives have taken on much of that role. One reason: Whoever takes the lead role in settling the conflict shells out the biggest portion of the blood money, a cause for worry for civil society groups and concerned individuals who are opposed to the idea of allocating government money for rido settlement. In the thick of the vendetta killings, men hide; and women, if they and their families have not relocated for refuge, seek avenues for peace. Women and children also had to farm and look after the financial upkeep of the family. Whereas before it was taboo to hurt women, women casualties – presumably among lower-caste families – may now be treated as accidental or collateral damage, so to speak. Women’s peacekeeping function rests more on their traditional position as the sex that has to be protected: Physically frail and incapable of carrying arms, more than on anything else. Most of the ridos are intra-ethnic, sometimes occurring between members belonging to one clan. The causes vary, from an insult on one’s lineage to spouse jealousy and elopement, landgrabbing, rivalry over electoral posts, or some other scarcer resource like the IRA.
Detailed across ten studies of the book’s ten chapters (authored by Mindanao’s foremost researchers, historians, peace advocates, and writers) and padded with feature articles on the same topic, the facts and the narratives – and the propositions – could sometimes be repetitive and you get the sense that while all that we have on the subject has been hauled in, nothing is being solved or clarified except the unbending demand for peace. To paraphrase one of the authors, rido, the problem, brings on and complicates other problems related to instability and poverty in Mindanao. Owing to clan and political affiliations of the average gun carrier, he be a politician’s gunman or an MILF cadre, players in an armed conflict can get called to or caught up in another bigger or smaller war. Someone in the AFP or the PNP may use his gun to protect his family. Similarly, a Moro rebel or commander may tap the military resources of his unit to defend a clan endangered in a rido.
But after all these fine points, what makes rido a cultural phenomenon quaintly characteristic of Moro or tribal society’s “war culture”? What exactly do we mean by war culture? More importantly, what makes rido a peace problem as unsettling as other bigger conflicts in Mindanao, e.g., the Moro rebellion?
That there is recent attention to conflict in Mindanao in all its forms (and that concomitant resources are allotted to it) is praiseworthy. Even more praiseworthy is the mobilization of Mindanao’s intellectual and civic resources towards addressing this multi-faceted conflict. My source of anxiety is somewhere in the book which I cannot locate quite precisely. I have the sense the book does not come out whole and strong; that for all the putting in and wrapping up, the mass of data perforates rather than sews up. The book is, moreover, a little burdened with a civic task that should have been beyond its command: Advocacy, queuing among sloganeers to spout out standard NGO sentiments and peace prescriptions where gritty details and plain analyses would have sufficed.

Senator Nene Pimentel. 2008. Federalizing the Philippines: A primer. Manila: Philippine Normal University Press. xviii. 494 pages.
by Albert E. Alejo, SJ, PhD
Like the proverbial cat that has nine lives, federalism is in the air again, perhaps stronger this time, because of the failure of the central government to dissociate itself from high level corruption, or perhaps weaker, and for the same reason that the settlers in Malacañang simply want to survive by whatever means, including adopting federalism as a reason for charter change. Senate Minority Leader Senator Aquilino “Nene” Pimentel, Jr. is aware of this argument...

Grace Nono, with Mendung Sabal, Henio Estakio, Baryus Gawid, Salvador Placido, Sarah Mandegan, Gadu Ugal, Florencia Havana, Sindao Banisil and Elena-Rivera-Mirano. 2008. The shared voice: Chanted and spoken narratives from the Philippines. Ed. Carolina Malay. Pasig City: Anvil Publishing and Fundacion Santiago. 248 pages.
by Albert E. Alejo, SJ, PhD
“My name is Grace Nono. I am a singer and a creator of songs.” That is how the author of this magical book introduces herself. That is also how she immediately connects her identity with the rest of the million “singing Filipinos” whose voices she celebrates in print. By voice Grace Nono means much more than a physiological function. “It is the summation of spiritual and sociocultural experience, of vision, and of creative imagination.” In the first few chapters...