Latest news with #CecilMorella
Gulf Today
02-07-2025
- Business
- Gulf Today
Philippines biodiversity hotspot pushes back on mining
Cecil Morella, Agence France-Presse A nickel stockpile towers over farmer Moharen Tambiling's rice paddy in the Philippines' Palawan, evidence of a mining boom that locals hope a new moratorium will tame. "They told us before the start of their operations that it wouldn't affect us, but the effects are undeniable now," Tambiling said. 'Pangolins, warthogs, birds are disappearing. Flowers as well.' A biodiversity hotspot, Palawan also holds vast deposits of nickel, needed for everything from stainless steel to electric vehicles. Once the world's largest exporter of the commodity, the Philippines is now racing to catch up with Indonesia. In 2021, Manila lifted a nine-year ban on mining licences. Despite promised jobs and tax revenue, there is growing pushback against the sector in Palawan. In March, the island's governing council unanimously passed a 50-year moratorium on any new mining permits. "Flash floods, the siltation of the sea, fisheries, mangrove areas... We are witnesses to the effects of long-term mining," Nieves Rosento, a former local councillor who led the push, said. Environmental rights lawyer Grizelda Mayo-Anda said the moratorium could stop nearly 70 proposed projects spanning 240,000 hectares. "You have to protect the old-growth forest, and it's not being done," she said. From 2001 to 2024, Palawan — dubbed the country's "last ecological frontier" — lost 219,000 hectares of tree cover, more than any other province, in part due to mining, according to Global Forest Watch. In southern Palawan's Brooke's Point, a Chinese ship at a purpose-built pier waits for ore from the stockpile overlooking Tambiling's farm. Mining company Ipilan says increased production will result in greater royalties for Indigenous people and higher tax revenues, but that means little to Tambiling's sister Alayma. The single mother-of-six once made 1,000-5,000 pesos ($18-90) a day selling lobster caught where the pier now sits. "We were surprised when we saw backhoes digging up the shore," she told AFP, calling a one-time compensation offer of 120,000 pesos ($2,150) insulting. "The livelihood of all the Indigenous peoples depended on that area." On the farm, Tambiling stirred rice paddy mud to reveal reddish laterite he says is leaking from the ore heap and poisoning his crops. Above him, swathes of the Mantalingahan mountains have been deforested, producing floods he describes as "fearsome, deep and fast-moving." Ipilan has faced protests and legal challenges over its logging, but its operations continue. Calls to parent company Global Ferronickel Holdings were not returned. For some in Palawan, the demand for nickel to power EVs has a certain irony. "You may be able to... eliminate pollution using electric vehicles," said Jeminda Bartolome, an anti-mining advocate. "But you should also study what happens to the area you are mining." In Bataraza, the country's oldest nickel mine is expanding, having secured permission before the moratorium. Rio Tuba employees armed with brooms, goggles, hats and scarves are barely visible through reddish dust as they sweep an access road that carries 6,000 tonnes of ore destined for China each day. Company senior vice president Jose Bayani Baylon said mining turned a barely accessible malarial swamp into a "first-class municipality". "You have an airport, you have a port, you have a community here. You have a hospital, you have infrastructure which many other communities don't have," he said. He dismisses environmental concerns as overblown. With part of its concession tapped out, the company is extending into an area once off-limits to logging but since rezoned. Thousands of trees have been cleared since January, according to locals, but Baylon said "under the law, for every tree you cut, you have to plant 100". The company showed AFP a nine-hectare plot it spent 15 years restoring with native plants. But it is unclear to what degree that will be replicated. Baylon concedes some areas could become solar farms instead. Nearby, Indigenous resident Kennedy Coria says mining has upset Mount Bulanjao's ecosystem. "Honeybees disappeared where we used to find them. Fruit trees in the forest stopped bearing fruit," the father-of-seven said. A fifth of the Philippines' Indigenous land is covered by mining and exploration permits, according to rights group Global Witness. Legally, they have the right to refuse projects and share profits, but critics say the process is rarely clear. "There are Indigenous peoples who have not received any royalties for the past 10 years," said Rosento. Coria, who can neither read nor write, said he must sign a document each year when accepting what he is told is his share of Rio Tuba profits. "We get about four kilos of rice from the community leader, who tells us it came from the company," he said. Rio Tuba said funds are distributed in coordination with the National Commission on Indigenous People (NCIP), which is meant to represent the communities. But some say it acts in the interests of miners, attempting to persuade locals to accept concessions and the terms offered by companies. The NCIP referred questions to multiple regional offices, none of which replied. The government's industry regulator declined interview requests. While Palawan's moratorium will not stop Rio Tuba's expansion or Ipilan's operations, supporters believe it will slow further mining.
Gulf Today
20-04-2025
- Politics
- Gulf Today
Money, power and violence in Philippine elections
Cecil Morella, Agence France-Presse Philippines election hopefuls like mayoral candidate Kerwin Espinosa have to ask themselves whether the job is worth taking a bullet. The country's elections commission, Comelec, recorded 46 acts of political violence between January 12 and April 11, including the shooting of Espinosa. At a rally this month, someone from the crowd fired a bullet that went through his chest and exited his arm, leaving him bleeding but alive. Others have been less lucky. A city council hopeful, a polling officer and a village chief were among those killed in similar attacks in the run-up to mid-term elections on May 12. Comelec said 'fewer than 20' candidates have been killed so far this campaign season, which it notes is a drop. 'This is much lower, very low compared to the past,' commission spokesperson John Rex Laudiangco told AFP, citing a tally of about 100 deaths in the last general election. Analysts warned that such violence will likely remain a fixture of the Philippines' political landscape. The immense influence of the posts is seen as something worth killing for. Holding municipal office means control over jobs, police departments and disbursements of national tax funds, said Danilo Reyes, an associate professor at the University of the Philippines' political science department. 'Local chief executives have discretion when it comes to how to allocate the funding, which projects, priorities,' he said. Rule of law that becomes weaker the farther one gets from Manila also means that regional powerbrokers can act with effective impunity, said Cleve Arguelles, CEO of Manila-based WR Numero Research. 'Local political elites have their own kingdoms, armed groups and... patronage networks,' he said, noting violence is typically highest in the archipelago nation's far north and south. 'The stakes are usually high in a local area where only one family is dominant or where there is involvement of private armed groups,' Arguelles said. 'If you lose control of... city hall, you don't just lose popular support. You actually lose both economic and political power.' In the absence of strong institutions to mediate disagreements, Reyes said, 'confrontational violence' becomes the go-to. Espinosa was waiting for his turn to speak at a campaign stop in central Leyte province on April 10 when a shooter emerged from the crowd and fired from about 50 metres (164 feet) away, according to police. Police Brigadier General Jean Fajardo told reporters this week that seven police officers were 'being investigated' as suspects. Convictions, however, are hard to come by. While Comelec's Laudiangco insisted recent election-related shootings were all making their way through regional court systems, he could provide no numbers. Data compiled by the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data project show that in 79 per cent of violent acts targeting local government members between 2018 and 2022 the perpetrators were never identified. National-level politicians, meanwhile, reliant on local political bases to deliver votes, have little incentive to press for serious investigations, said Reyes. 'The only way you can ensure national leaders win positions is for local allies to deliver votes,' he said. 'There are convictions but very rarely, and it depends on the potential political fallout on the national leaders as well as the local leaders.' It's part of the 'grand bargain' in Philippine politics, Arguelles said. Local elites are 'tolerated by the national government so long as during election day they can also deliver votes when they're needed'. Three days after Espinosa's shooting, a district board candidate and his driver were rushed to hospital after someone opened fire on them in the autonomous area of Mindanao. Election-season violence has long plagued the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao, known as the BARMM. Comelec assumed 'direct control' over the municipalities of Buluan and Datu Odin Sinsuat after municipal election officer Bai Maceda Lidasan Abo and her husband were shot dead last month. Since last year, Comelec has held the power to directly control and supervise not only local election officials but also law enforcement. Top police officials in the two municipalities were removed for 'gross negligence and incompetence' after allegedly ignoring requests to provide security details for the slain Comelec official. Their suspensions, however, will last only from 'campaigning up to... the swearing-in of the winners,' Comelec's Laudiangco said. The commission's actions were part of a 'tried and tested security plan' that is showing real results, he said. But he conceded that the interwoven nature of family, power and politics in the provinces would continue to create a combustible brew. 'You have a lot of closely related people in one given jurisdiction... That ensures polarisation. It becomes personal between neighbours. 'We all know Filipinos are clannish, that's our culture. But we're improving slowly.'
