Warlordism

Afriend from Zamboanga told me his experience with the Kuratong Baleleng when he was a young boy staying with his uncle in Ozamiz City. He lost his bicycle on the first week of his stay, which prompted his uncle to approach a person who was a Kuratong member.

The uncle pleaded to have his bike back, which the guy assured he will. On that same day, that man brought back the bicycle. But that man asked for a “fee” for his effort.

That was how my friend learned about the power of the Kuratong, how its members run the streets, and how they are linked to the Parojinogs, who control them and the city as officials.

He told me this story last year after Duterte won the elections. He added that if Duterte could topple the Parojinogs, that would be the day. That day happened on the dawn of Sunday when Mayor Reynaldo Parojinog, his wife, his brother, his sister and 11 others were killed in a police raid. The mayor’s daughter, who is vice mayor, and son were arrested.

“Those rejoicing over Facebook don’t know what’s happening in Ozamiz,” another friend said. “The Kuratong spawned many leaders, and they are just there waiting to take over.”

That’s a grim assessment. Perhaps, the problem of narcopolitics reflects the deeper system that runs our politics, the one discussed by Prof. Roland Simbulan in his “Modern Warlordism: its Historical Evolution.”

Simbulan notes that our country’s politics is virtually controlled by 178 political dynasties in 73 of 80 provinces. Political dynasties got powerful because they became extensions of the government’s counterinsurgency campaigns and enforcers of ruling parties during elections.

A case in point is the Ampatuans, who amassed ammunition in the fight against the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) in the 1980s. This became their political machinery, silencing opposition and amassing wealth and property at the expense of the poor in Maguindanao.

It’s the same thing with the Parojinogs. The Kuratong started as a counter-insurgency group in the 1980s like the AlsaMasa here in Davao, and was headed by Adiong’s father and mayor Octavio Sr. After driving off NPAs, they became the machinery to ensure the Parojinogs’ hold on power, and they were treated as RobinHood of Ozamiz protecting the peace of their city.

It’s a deep system that needs to be taken down. Yet with the Duterte warning that two more mayors and two governors would be taken down, one can ask if this war really roots out the problem of crime and poverty.

“Cut down one head, two more shall take its place.” Perhaps, Simbulan’s article follows lawyer Pedro Abad Santos’s advice to the poor: Do not come to me with tales of abuse from your landlords. Next time, kill them, and I will defend you.-- from SunStar Davao