Warrior of the Dark

This essay appeared in Anagnorisis: An Anthology of Poetry and Prose on Peace, published by Generation Peace Youth Network (GenPeace) in partnership with the UNDP – Conflict Prevention and Peacebuilding Programme

I dream of writing nonfiction novels on Mindanao someday. I'll give one book the title Warrior of the Dark. It will contain the story of my uncle.

My uncle, nearing sixty now, is a farmer and a good family man. He has lived the life of an ordinary Mindanaoan. But there’s one part of his life that I’d like to document, for it is not only a part of our family’s history, but of the island’s history as well.

In 1970s, my uncle joined Ilaga, a “Christian” paramilitary group that fought against the Moro rebels. To call the members of Ilaga “vigilantes” is an understatement. The media have described them as “dreaded,” “notorious,” and even “barbaric.” The most infamous of my uncle’s comrades, Norberto Manero, has caught the public’s attention (and revulsion) for killing a priest and then allegedly eating the victim’s brain.

I’m drawn to my uncle and his group’s experiences not because I consider them heroes. It’s quite the contrary. I believe intolerance and violence—two ills Ilaga perpetuated—have no place in this world. I’m fascinated with the members of Ilaga because I want to understand them. In knowing their story, I hope to understand better the conflict in Mindanao, my homeland.

“Ilaga” is a Visayan word for “rat.” Uncle explained a few years ago that like the noxious vermin, they crept in the ground, feared water, and attacked in the dark. Therefore, he told me, many Maguindanaoans would keep their families from harm’s way by building raft houses in ponds and rivers and staying in them at night.

Most of the members of Ilaga were farming settlers whose families came from the island of Panay. My mother told me that when she was about fourteen, my uncle, who was seventeen or eighteen that time, just disappeared one day. They were living in Cotabato Province then. When Uncle came back after a long time, he was bearing battle scars, one of which was right in his jaw.

Uncle has told me what happened to the jaw—and why he believes it happened. He said that in one battle, his amulet failed to work. A bullet caught him in the mouth and tore through his cheek. The amulet of an Ilaga was usually a tiny bottle containing lana (coconut oil), bits of tree roots, and whatnot. The bottle would be tied with a string and worn as a necklace or wrapped around the waist. To keep the amulet effective, an Ilaga would also rub his skin with lana, utter Latin prayers, and avoid certain kinds of food in certain days of the week. Taking a bath and having intercourse were forbidden on Fridays. One Friday, my uncle wasn’t able to resist the temptation—he slept with a woman—and this he said lessened the power of his amulet.

The Ilagas have become a legend, and should remain so. They should be nothing but a part of Mindanao’s past. They should be remembered not as martyred crusaders but as warriors with a good end but a misguided means. They wanted peace in Mindanao, but they thought the best and only way to attain it was by subduing, if not annihilating, the Muslims. They are a source of pride for young Christians like me, for in my veins flows the same blood, the blood of fearless fighters. But they are also our shame, for they turned into ruthless savages who every so often preyed upon innocent lives.

Ilaga has done its share of wreaking havoc on Mindanao. The chapter on them should be closed. Unfortunately, similar groups would surface from time to time, especially whenever the thirty-year conflict in the island heated up. I believe, though, that those “new” Ilagas could no longer sow as much terror as the original group had. Times have changed. The people of Mindanao have become more socially aware and educated. Our voice against human rights abuses has become stronger. Many of us Muslims and Christians have forged ties of friendship no senseless war could break.

I still have a lot of whys to ask my uncle. His story will be engaging—full of lessons to learn, full of mistakes we should not commit again.