Unfinished business
In September last year, Zamboanga—the country’s sixth largest city and a major economic hub in the south—became a flaming battleground when forces loyal to Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) founder Nur Misuari attacked the city, took civilian hostages and proclaimed the independence of a so-called Bangsamoro Republik. The fierce fighting that erupted between the rebels and the combined troops of the Armed Forces of the Philippines and the Philippine National Police resulted in some 100,000 people displaced from their homes, 45 dead, 10,000 homes destroyed and the entire city under lockdown.
The government ceased military operations and declared victory 20 days later, even as alleged rebel leader Ustadz Habier Malik, and Misuari for that matter, were nowhere to be found. They remain at large, still unpunished for the rampage they had unleashed over Misuari’s pique at the peace process then being hammered out between the government and the MNLF’s rival faction, the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). Ego was at the heart of Misuari’s bloody tantrum; he feared being marginalized under the new Bangsamoro entity envisioned by the GRP (Government of the Republic of the Philippines)-MILF peace panels, so his fighters attacked Zamboanga City to press his point. But when the smoke of battle cleared, Misuari and his trusted lackey had vanished.
That was eight months ago. The government has not announced any major new campaign to hunt down Misuari or Malik. Zamboanga has lurched back to a sense of normalcy, but for many of the 100,000 residents who were displaced by the fighting, the struggle goes on.
Recently, the European Union announced that it was allocating P14.8 million more to assist thousands of families that it said were “still living in very difficult situations,” in addition to the P17.76 million it had given earlier for the same purpose. The EU’s total fund assistance to Zamboanga victims now amounts to P32.56 million.
The fresh infusion of funds was triggered by a recent assessment mission made by the EU’s humanitarian aid and civil protection department, which found out that 3,800 families were still living in cramped, unsanitary emergency shelters that were only meant to hold them temporarily. Also, “some 9,000 children have no access to regular schooling, making them susceptible to abuse, neglect and violence,” said the EU. The nearly P15-million assistance aims to help at least 1,500 of the most vulnerable victims and move 300 families out of the evacuation shelters and into new transitional homes.
Over a six-month period, a consortium of aid organizations under the aegis of the EU will also build facilities for potable water, as well as “youth-friendly spaces” for children of displaced families. A health program for pregnant and lactating women and kids under age five will go hand in hand with information campaigns designed to promote hygiene and sanitation programs among families, and raise residents’ awareness about issues such as sexual abuse and human trafficking, especially of women and minors.
The EU’s act of generosity and compassion is most welcome, of course—which must lead to the question: Why are foreigners apparently more interested in improving the welfare and conditions of war-ravaged Filipinos than the Philippine government? Where is the Department of Social Welfare and Development, at the very least, in all these? Given those damning EU findings—that eight months after the conflict, thousands of ordinary citizens are still stuck in squalid conditions—it is more than fair to ask what the government has done to ease their suffering, and why assistance that would help them rebuild their lives has been this atrociously slow in coming, forcing outside entities like the EU to step in.
The Zamboanga siege was seized by various political factions for their own agenda. Retired Archbishop Oscar Cruz said it was a case of the Aquino administration wagging the dog to distract the nation from the pork barrel scandal. Sen. Miriam Defensor Santiago, on the other hand, blamed the incident on her nemesis, Sen. Juan Ponce Enrile, who she said stood to gain from creating a diversion that would redirect public anger away from his reported plunder of PDAF funds to the crisis in the south.
Do all those frothy conspiracy theories matter now? Have any of these leaders given a thought recently to those who have yet to recover from the 20-day firefight that upended their lives and gutted their city eight months ago? The EU’s humanitarian aid is a reminder: The government has unfinished business—a huge one—with the citizens of Zamboanga.
