Rethinking the BBL
FROM THE intense national discourse on the Bangsamoro Basic Law, it is apparent that the Moro homeland concept is undermined by constitutional infirmities. Short of absolute sovereignty, the Bangsamoro will have all the attributes of a state—a caliphate, if you will: a defined territory, a permanent population, and a government that mimics every aspect of the central government.
There is considerable skepticism about the BBL because it goes against the grain of a key constitutional precept, the inviolability of the separation of Church and State. While it scrupulously tries to evade any reference to Islam, it stumbles in the sections on concurrent and exclusive powers, making it clear that Shari’ah law will prevail and the Bangsamoro will operate according to the strictures of this faith.
The difficulty here is that the strands of governance, law, conduct and religion are tightly woven in Islam. It will be fascinating to see how Congress will reform provisions that funnel taxpayer money into a Shari’ah justice system, madrasas, and a range of religious activities that underpin Islamic society. Our main concern here is that Shari’ah and madrasas might inhibit the growth of knowledge and literacy rates in a way that, in turn, will also inhibit the Bangsamoro’s capacity to adapt to the startling pace of technology, modernization and innovation.
Thus far, the debate has been marred not so much by the Mamasapano incident as by a claim, bordering on treason, of the presidential adviser on the peace process—the claim that the alternative to the BBL is war. This, of course, is silly; her role should be to acknowledge that there can be a choice between varying visions of transformation in Muslim Mindanao. Appeasement and the threat of terrorism cannot be the bases for peace and long-term national goals in any part of our republic.
On a more crucial level, the debate is raising important questions about the durability of our institutions, about the legitimacy of our political vision as articulated in the principles of our Constitution, and about our capacity to shape our future as a pluralistic society.
These questions have been simmering long enough in the marginalization of Filipino minorities. There is, of course, enough blame to assign to government, for its gross ineptitude; and to traditional Muslim hierarchy, for maintaining a paradigm that has kept Muslims in bondage. Obviously, it will take decades as well as extraordinary leadership in both the regional and national levels to rectify historic miscalculations, social neglect and political irresponsibility that are at the roots of the conflict between government and our Muslim community.
The shame of the past looms in our consciousness. More than enough blood, treasure and tears have been shed on both sides over the last 47 years. And the only way to redeem these sacrifices is to transform Mindanao from an arena of low-intensity warfare into a perpetual zone of peace.
However, this cannot be achieved by erecting barriers to national integration. More so, it cannot be done by pandering to armed groups or ethnic nationalists or by trivializing our responsibility to our citizens of whatever creed, religion or ethnicity.
Muslims in the Bangsamoro will remain our compatriots. Yet we will allow these citizens—whom we are sworn to safeguard under the equal protection clause of our laws—to be subjected to the Shari’ah justice system and perhaps even to “crimes” not recognized as such under the Philippine penal code?
It is important, therefore, to rethink the implications of the BBL. Having said that, I believe that we are resilient and sturdy enough as a people to allow the Muslim identity to flourish. We can transcend our ancient biases and misapprehensions to see the Bangsamoro as a mutual desire to build an Islamic community based on the rule of law.
In many countries, autonomous regions and special administrative territories are common, each with varying degrees of authority and devolution. We should be unafraid to help chart the Bangsamoro people’s aspirations to consolidate their political future, identity and posterity. Nothing historic or significant will be achieved if we treat ideological and religious barriers as insurmountable.
When a variation of the BBL is passed into law, what government must do is to focus on making the Bangsamoro work to our mutual advantage, given the deep divisions in Islamic society. Yesterday it was the Moro National Liberation Front; today, it is the Moro Islamic Liberation Front. And tomorrow may well generate a new dominant armed group that will bring us back to square one.
It is to our paramount interest to prevent the rise of absolutist tribal politics and to encourage negotiation and compromise in the Bangsamoro. Thus an important revision of the BBL should include some of the mechanisms proposed by Arturo L. Tiu in his insightful commentary on “Inclusive leadership” (Opinion, 5/9/15).
Finally, we should overcome our pessimism. The rise of the Bangsamoro represents an extraordinary opportunity to build political, social and economic institutions that will enhance our own quest for stability, progress and peace. Toward this end, the BBL should enshrine the imperative that: “The Bangsamoro Government shall ensure democracy, human rights, the rule of law, and transparency mechanisms consistent with open government practices.” This must be a fundamental principle, not a colatilla to the auditing function.
Rex D. Lores ([email protected]) is a member of the Philippine Futuristics Society.
