DISCUSSION

PAPER
SERIES

UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES

CENTER FOR INTEGRATIVE AND DEVELOPMENT STUDIES
LOCAL-REGIONAL STUDIES NETWORK
CORDILLERA STUDIES CENTER

UP CIDS DISCUSSION PAPER 2020–02

Nurturing nature and culture

Policy and customary perspectives on the
indigenous forest management system
chontog of Barangay Ekip, Bokod, Benguet
Roland Erwin P. Rabang

ISSN 2619-7448 (PRINT)

ISSN 2619-7456 (ONLINE)
UNIVERSITY OF THE PHILIPPINES
CENTER FOR INTEGRATIVE AND DEVELOPMENT STUDIES
LOCAL-REGIONAL STUDIES NETWORK
CORDILLERA STUDIES CENTER

UP CIDS DISCUSSION PAPER 2020–02

Nurturing nature and culture

Policy and customary perspectives on the
indigenous forest management system
chontog of Barangay Ekip, Bokod, Benguet
Roland Erwin P. Rabang

The UP CIDS Discussion Paper Series features preliminary researches that

may be subject to further revisions and are circulated in limited copies to elicit
comments and suggestions for enrichment and refinement. The views and
opinions expressed in this discussion paper are those of the author/s and neither
DISCUSSION reflect nor represent those of the University of the Philippines or the UP Center for
PAPER Integrative and Development Studies. Papers in the series are not for quotation or
SERIES reprinting without permission from the author/s and the Center.
Nurturing nature and culture
Policy and customary perspectives on the
indigenous forest management system chontog
of Barangay Ekip, Bokod, Benguet
Roland Erwin P. Rabang1

ABSTRACT The Philippine Environmental Policy, enacted as

Presidential Decree 1151 on June 6, 1977, has the intended purpose of
keeping the environment protected despite (or because of) what has
been regarded in the law as “conflicting demands of population growth,
urbanization, industrial expansion, rapid natural resources utilization, and
increasing technological advances” (Republic of the Philippines 1977a).
The decree provides a non-negotiable requirement to be complied with
in any endeavor to introduce development initiatives within a considered
fragile natural topography. The enactment calls on the government
to lead society in the promotion and implementation of this national
environment policy in pursuit, among others, of the preservation “of
important historic and cultural aspects of the Philippine heritage”
(ibid.). This provision acknowledges that nature and the environment
are spaces that are not vacant, but rather peopled by communities of
indigenous peoples with distinct and specific cultural practices, as
well as knowledge systems that include environmental protection and
preservation. This is the standpoint of a 2015 joint documentation project
undertaken by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources
(DENR), the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP), the
indigenous cultural communities and indigenous peoples' organizations
of Barangays Karao and Ekip in Bokod, Benguet of what is termed as
Sustainable Indigenous Forest Resources Management Systems and
Practices (STIFRMSP). These are locally known as chontog. But while

¹ Assistant Professor of Language and Literature, University of the Philippines Baguio,

and Director, Office of Public Affairs, UP Baguio • Email address: [email protected]
2 RA BANG

the Philippine Environmental Policy—in conjunction with the enactment

of the Indigenous Peoples' Rights Act (IPRA) in 1997—acknowledges that
historical and cultural practices are important in relation to environmental
protection initiatives, how much of these traditions are still practiced
on the ground? To what extent do the locals value traditional methods
of sustaining natural resources within their jurisdictions, and how
committed are they at preserving and perpetuating these indigenous
institutions?

KEYWORDS Indigenous knowledge, indigenous peoples rights,

environmental laws, ecological citizenship, Ibaloy, cultural studies

Egtayo abusuen inpiyal afo Chiyos / pan iyanan tan

pagbiyagan2
(Let us not abuse that which God has provided—a place to
settle, a place to live)

A preponderance of environmental laws

The Philippines is a country rich in environmental laws. It would seem
that every organism that exists in nature has some government edict
or issuance in terms of policy or law that would ensure its protection,
perpetuation, or regulation. Some of these notable issuances would
be the Philippine Clean Air Act of 1999, the Ecological Solid Waste
Management Act of 2000, the Philippine Fisheries Code of 1998, the
Animal Welfare Act of 1998, the Coconut Preservation Act of 1995,
and an Act for Salt Iodization Nationwide.

In the 1970s, some of the more prominent presidential issuances

on the environment (called presidential decrees) by former President

² This is a portion of the lyrics of the song composed by residents of Barangay Ekip in the
municipality of Bokod, Benguet. It was their winning entry in a municipal songwriting
contest with the theme “Disaster-resilient community through preparation and unity.”
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 3

Ferdinand E. Marcos were the Philippine Environmental Policy and

the Philippine Environmental Code, issued as Presidential Decree
(P.D.) No. 1151 and Presidential Decree No. 1152, respectively, both
approved on June 6, 1977.

Paragraphs 3 and 4 of the Philippine Environment Code (P.D.

No. 1152) have the stated purpose of establishing a “comprehensive
program of environmental protection and management” (Republic of
the Philippines 1977b). The code states that the program can only
“assume tangible and meaningful significance only by establishing
specific environment management policies and prescribing environment
quality standards” (ibid.).

An important aspect of establishing a policy or policies on

“environment management” is stated in Section 59 of the Philippine
Environment Code entitled “Preservation of Historic and Cultural
Resources and Heritage.” The section provides that “[i]t shall be the
duty of every person to preserve the historic and cultural resources
of the country such as sites, structures, artifacts, documents, objects,
memorials, and priceless trees” (ibid.).

The preservation of historic and cultural resources is likewise

justified in Section 62, Paragraph i of the Code which states that
“Areas of Critical Environmental Concern are areas where uncontrolled
development could result in irreparable damage to important historic,
cultural, or aesthetic values or natural systems or processes of national
significance” (ibid.).

On the other hand, the Philippine Environmental Policy (P.D.

No. 1151) considers the relationship of the concepts of preserving
the environment and preserving a way of life. Posterity is therefore
embodied in the policy declaration in Section 2, which states that

In pursuing this policy, it shall be the responsibility of

this Government, in cooperation with concerned private
organizations and entities, to use all practicable means,
consistent with other essential considerations of national
policy, in promoting the general welfare to the end that the
Nation may:
4 RA BANG

(a) Recognize, discharge and fulfill the responsibilities

of each generation as trustee and guardian of the
environment for succeeding generations;

(b) To assure the people of a safe, decent, healthful,

productive and aesthetic environment;

(c) Encourage the widest exploitation of the environment

without degrading it, or endangering human life,
health and safety or creating conditions adverse to
agriculture, commerce and industry;

(d) Preserve important historic and cultural aspects of

the Philippine heritage;

(e) Attain a rational and orderly balance between

population and resource use; and

(f) Improve the utilization of renewable and non-

renewable resources (Republic of the Philippines
1977a).

While the Philippine Environment Policy and Code specifies a

broad reference to the environment in its provisions, the Revised
Forestry Code—issued as Presidential Decree No. 705 on May 19,
1975—speaks of regulating the actions of forest settlers and even
required the census of “kaingineros, squatters, cultural minorities
and other occupants and residents and forest lands” (Republic of the
Philippines 1975). Section 52 further states the conduct of a “complete
census of kaingineros, squatters, cultural minorities and other
occupants and residents in forest lands with or without authority or
permits from the government, showing the extent of their respective
occupation and resulting damage, or impairment of forest resources
(ibid.).”

The census is held for the purpose of establishing an inventory of

forest occupants because Section 53 of the same code explains that

kaingineros, squatters and cultural minorities and other

occupants who entered into forest lands and grazing lands
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 5

before May 19, 1975 without permit or authority, shall not

be prosecuted: Provided that they do not increase their
clearings: Provided, further, that they undertake, within
two (2) months from notice thereof, the activities to be
imposed upon them by the Bureau in accordance with
management plan calculated to conserve and protect forest
resources in the area: Provided, finally, that kaingineros,
squatters, and cultural minorities and other occupants
shall whenever the best land use of the area so demands
as determined by the Director, be ejected and relocated
to the nearest accessible government resettlement area
(ibid.).

This provision presents an issue where “kaingineros, squatters,

cultural minorities and other occupants” (ibid.) are all lumped together
in one demographic category. ‘Cultural minorities,’ of course, was the
term that is understood today as ‘indigenous peoples’ (IPs), except the
notion of “minority” implies hierarchical relations between them and a
dominant cultural “majority.” While the so-called ‘cultural minorities’
are certainly practitioners of swidden farming (or kaingin as the law
provides), ‘squatting’ or unlawful settling in an area is certainly a
matter of argument, especially at a time when ‘ancestral lands’ and
‘ancestral domains’ were terms that were not yet a part of a larger
cultural conversation. The problem, though, is that the law empowers
the government to determine circumstances that would eject these
forest occupants from the land and bring them to a resettlement area
“whenever the best land use of the area so demands as determined by
the Director” (ibid.).

The Indigenous Peoples' Rights Act as basis for the chontog

That conversation took place twenty-two years later when the

Indigenous Peoples' Rights Act (IPRA) of 1997 (Republic of the
Philippines 1997) was enacted. The Act provides, among others, that

The State shall take measures, with the participation of

[Indigenous Cultural Communities]/IPs concerned, to protect
6 RA BANG

their rights and guarantee respect for their cultural integrity,

and to ensure that members of the ICCs/IPs benefit on an
equal footing from the rights and opportunities which national
laws and regulations grant to other members of the population
(ibid.).

Among the rights that the law guarantees are rights to ancestral
domains, as provided in Chapter III of the Act. Thus, in what appears
to be a complete reversal of the provisions of laws enacted in the
1970s, the Act provides rights of ownership to IPs “over lands, bodies
of water traditionally and actually occupied by ICCs/IPs, sacred places,
traditional hunting and fishing grounds, and all improvements made
by them at any time within the domains” (ibid.).

The Act also ensures that IPs should no longer fear their removal
from their ancestral domains through governmental determination
because they already have the right to “develop, control and use lands
and territories traditionally occupied, owned or used; to manage and
conserve natural resources within the territories” (ibid.). Posterity
within their own lifeways and practices is also guaranteed as they have
the capacity to “uphold the responsibilities for future generations”
(ibid.).

Upholding these “responsibilities” include upholding “cultural

integrity” by exercising the right to indigenous knowledge systems
and practices and to develop their own sciences and technologies. As
provided in Chapter VI of the Act, indigenous peoples can exercise
their “right to special measures to control, develop and protect their
sciences, technologies and cultural manifestations, including human
and other genetic resources, seeds, including derivatives of these
resources, traditional medicines and health practices, vital medicinal
plants, animals and minerals, indigenous knowledge systems and
practices, knowledge of the properties of fauna and flora, oral
traditions, literature, designs, and visual and performing arts.”

There is no doubt, therefore, that the IPRA and its pertinent

provisions, was largely the basis for the enactment of the “Joint
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 7

Implementing Rules and Regulations [IRR] of the ‘Chontog’ as a

Sustainable Traditional Indigenous Forest Resources Management
System and Practice (STIFRMSP) of the ICCs/IPOs in Barangays
Karao and Ekip, Municipality of Bokod, Benguet” (DENR 2015).
This was jointly promulgated in January 2015 by the officials of the
municipality of Bokod and of Barangays Karao and Ekip.

Chontog, according to Section 5, Paragraph x of this issuance, are

“areas within the domain communally owned by the community such
as the watershed areas and the communal forests.” At the same time,
it is also a system that points to the “sustainable traditional indigenous
forest resource management system and practices of the Ikarao and
Kalanguya tribes within their ancestral domain in the barangays
of Karao and Ekip, Municipality of Bokod, Province of Benguet.”
Moreover,

[i]t exhibits a unique setting of indigenous forest management

systems attributing to the sustainable existence of their
natural resources inherent with their culture and traditional
practices maintaining their forest, wildlife, watersheds,
woodlots, pasture areas, and other forest vegetation
interspersed with their hamlets, and designated cultivated
areas for livelihood (DENR 2015, 1).

Aside from water resources, it is also a source for food, firewood, and
lumber for housing, herbs for medicines, and pesticides for rice fields.

The basis for this 2015 IRR was a joint documentation project
undertaken by the regional offices of the Department of Environment
and Natural Resources (DENR) and the National Commission on
Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) in the Cordillera Administrative Region
(CAR), in cooperation with the local government units (LGUs) of the
municipality of Bokod and the barangays of Ekip and Karao and the
ICCs and indigenous peoples' organizations (IPOs) in the area.

A comprehensive report on the chontog system was prepared,

covering its basis in history and tradition as well as the territorial
8 RA BANG

breadth and scope of the practice. It also points to the cultural

rootedness and temporal grounding of the practice in the sense of
that it conforms to one of the salient criteria prescribed in the IPRA
regarding indigenous cultural practices, which is that the practice
should have been in place “since time immemorial” (Republic of the
Philippines 1997).

In fact, the report states that the chontog as an indigenous

knowledge system and practice (IKSP) “of the Ikaraos and the
Kalanguyas plays an important role in the protection and conservation
of their natural resources which they have practiced since time
immemorial” (DENR 2015, 3).

In brief, this IKSP regards the “forest ecosystem of Karao and Ekip
as an important natural resource” (ibid.). At the same time, the forest
is also seen by the IPs “as alive and responsive in many ways to their
physical, spiritual and cultural needs.” The report adds, “particular
trees are regarded as sacred” as much as the mountains and the forests
are subject to a belief system called pani’djew or pih’yaw, which is
“a belief of restricting the residents or anybody from doing prohibited
acts to avoid pain of retribution from the spirit such as: indiscriminate
cutting of trees” (ibid.), among others.

Places within the jurisdiction of the Karao and the Kalanguya

according to the report are the mountains of Pack, Purgatory, Gwiling,
Agpay, Naubanan, Bangsalan, Bakian, Poodan, Tinengan, Komkompol,
and Salingsingan. Within the practices of these indigenous peoples is a
certain adherence to a particular leadership hierarchy which governs
decision-making processes. The yangkaama, aama, or yangkabahkol
consists of a council of elders that “perform the role of decision-makers
for the various activities and actively participate in the resolution of
disputes/problems in the village or barangay” (DENR 2015, 8).

A culture in flux
The report represents an exhaustive documentation of what the
practice ought to be like under unchanging conditions of society. But
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 9

societal conditions are, in fact, dynamic and continuously in flux, such

that the report itself points to circumstances that depict this situation.
For instance, the report cites that the “traditional mode of leadership”
under the “council of elders…is seldom used, owing to the political
influence of the central government that intruded on the affairs of
indigenous peoples” (DENR 2015, 8).

This “intrusion” is explained in the same report as “administrative

bodies were set up by the state to administer their affairs. Local
government units ran parallel to the leadership systems of local
villages, whereby traditional leadership has declined” (ibid.).

In this situation, community leadership invariably emanates

from the barangay, whose membership comprise residents who are
“indigenous” themselves. The Department of Economic and Social
Affairs of the United Nations (n.d.) defines indigenous peoples as

Inheritors and practitioners of unique cultures and ways of

relating to people and the environment. They have retained
social, cultural, economic and political characteristics that are
distinct from those of the dominant societies in which they
live. Despite their cultural differences, indigenous peoples
from around the world share common problems related to the
protection of their rights as distinct peoples.

The difference, however, is that while the yangkaama is composed

of male elders, the barangay leadership is a mixture of male and
female leaders. Furthermore, the IPRA prescribes the appointment of
an indigenous peoples mandatory representative (IPMR) who shall be
consulted on matters pertaining to indigenous knowledge and belief
systems.

Martin T. Ampey is the IPMR of Barangay Ekip in the

municipality of Bokod, Benguet. On December 13, 2018, I sat to
have a conversation with him and three of the women leaders of
the barangay, namely Patricia C. Calion, Florencia W. Gonzalo, and
Marcenia K. Buyao.
10 RA BANG

The focus of the conversation is to determine the extent of the

practice of chontog in their area in relation to the information
described in the joint DENR–NCIP–ICC–IPO report (DENR 2015)
and the LGU-enacted IRR on the chontog.

The group relates a two-fold approach to the subject because

the times require them to make particular adjustments to what the
practice prescribes. For instance, the delineation of agricultural lands
and of the communal forest (called kedjowan) indicates that there are
practices under the chontog system that also pertains to the cultivation
of agricultural lands. In the uma (fields), the weeds taken out from the
paddies are used as fertilizer—consistent with what is known today
as ‘organic farming.’ However, the Ekip informants admitted that
the need to expand the community’s harvest for economic purposes
encourages the use of commercial fertilizers. The informants explained
that the reason for this is that organic farming is good for ‘backyard
gardening’ only. Thus, for a yield that satisfies the demands of the
market, farmers need to resort to commercial methods.

Ampey and his group are also aware, however, of the need to
protect water sources. In this situation, the practice of planting wild
taro (gabi/pising) near water sources to encourage water retention is
still in place. They also affirm the prohibition of cutting trees near
water sources such as springs, because they rely on these bodies of
water for domestic use and for irrigation. The Ekip informants add
that part of the community’s belief system is their adherence to the
pani’djew or spiritual retribution for committing proscribed acts such
as cutting of certain tree species, hunting/trapping of animals (when it
is not allowed), or unseasonable fishing.

These prohibitions draw on the belief that while the term chontog
refers linguistically to an object, that is the mountain, it also refers to it
being a living and breathing entity. Thus, the mountain is connected to
the life cycle of the community. For instance, hunting, once practiced
in the area, is at times prohibited to allow the spirits of the mountain
to partake in the bounties of the forest as well (“tapnu adda kanen ti
chontog”).
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 11

The Ekip informants also mentioned that the arrival of migratory

birds is also a sign that intrusive forest activities must cease. In
traversing the mountains and the forest, the people must keep to the
pathways to minimize the trampling of the undergrowth. The Ekip
informants stated further that even the grass must not be harmed.
In instances where there is over-extraction of forest resources, the
chontog (that is, the mountain) must be closed to allow the forest to
regenerate.

Again, this system assumes that the only actors and stakeholders in
this narrative are the indigenous peoples living within the jurisdiction
of the chontog system. The Ekip informants also related issues and
problems that they encounter in the process of stewardship over their
own resources and how these issues and problems also contribute
to the shifts and changes in the implementation of the practice and,
ultimately, to cultural changes.

Implications of the chontog on the peoples' lifeways

The Ekip informants narrated that during the height of Typhoon

Ompong in September 2018, residents of Barangay Ekip noticed
that there were numerous logs from fallen trees which were washed
downstream and ended up along the barangay’s riverbanks. As the
logs went downstream, the water, with its cargo of logs, scoured the
riverbanks, resulting in the widening of the river. The Ekip informants
said that this had not happened before. What this means is that the
upstream vegetation is no longer intact, and its cause is more likely
man-made and not natural. Traditionally, the upstream areas of
Barangay Ekip are still a part of the chontog. However, there are now
outsiders who engage in the cultivation and clearing of the upstream
areas. Under the system, this ought to be prohibited, but the informants
say that the culprits do not belong to their community.

Under the IPRA (Republic of the Philippines 1997), the community

has the “right to regulate the entry of migrant settlers and organizations
into the domains” (Chapter III, Section 7, Paragraph e). However,
barangay residents are fearful that confronting the perpetrators might
12 RA BANG

result in harmful and violent situations, because they believe that these
outsiders are armed and possess economic and political influence.

The other issue involving the so-called “migrant settlers” who

are not necessarily familiar with local knowledge and beliefs is that
migration is sometimes brought about by intermarriages. This results
in the erosion of the belief systems due to the introduction of new
and more secular belief systems through intermarrying individuals.
Tourism is likewise attracting outsiders towards areas of interest such
as Mt. Purgatory, where unregulated tourist activity has contributed to
pollution and the destruction of forest ecology in the area.

Furthermore, in the barangay’s entry to a municipal-organized

songwriting contest on disaster resilience, climate change was
mentioned as one of the phenomena that the residents are currently
facing. If the widening of the river as a result of the scouring by the
washed-down logs has not been seen in recent memory, then Typhoon
Ompong might be considered as an indicator of a radical shift in
global climate. Discussing the effects of a changing Philippine climate,
Comiso et al. (2014, 95) warns that “if there are no mitigating and
adaptive measures, the biodiversity at stake in the Cordillera highlands
is considerable.” They continued, “Mt. Data is the type of locality
where old endemic rodents were first collected, and with their habitats
already turned into vegetable gardens, no one has evaluated what
happened to the unique rodents after conversion” (ibid.).

Along with the call of the residents for government assistance in

the policing of massive land-clearing operations upstream of Ekip,
there might also be a need for the residents to take a cultural shift
from their accustomed practices of slash-and-burn agriculture and
timber extraction. The reality of climate change might also compel
residents to shift their policies towards a more stringent regulation of
activities by outsiders. Initiatives and incentives for re-vegetation must
also be put in place because as typhoons become even stronger, “wind
is susceptible to slowing down when it goes through many trees over a
large area” (Comiso et al. 2014, 95).

Barangay Ekip is a hilly settlement that descends towards a river

basin which serves as a drain network for the subwatersheds of Mount
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 13

Pulag. In September 2018, Typhoon Ompong swept through Northern

Luzon and affected parts of the Cordillera, notably the province of
Benguet. While the municipality of Itogon was in the news for the
massive landslide that took the lives of dozens of small-scale miners,
the effect on Barangay Ekip in Bokod was that the flow of the river
that runs parallel to the settlement was transformed and altered not
only by the volume of water that flowed through the waterway, but
moreso by the debris that was carried.

Part of the debris were freshly cut logs, and Ampey’s group
deduced that trees do not get easily carried by the natural force of
storms or typhoons. Upon seeing that what was conveyed downstream
were actually timber products, the group realized that there are loggers
operating in the mountains and forests upstream. Although the area
is under Barangay Ekip's jurisdiction, outsiders continue to conduct
logging operations within its vicinity.

The reality of climate change, unregulated upstream logging

operations, and a changing natural landscape are conditions that affect
the community’s response to their environment. Thus, while it has
been long held that the community has a system of managing their
environment, it took the involvement of state instruments—particularly
the DENR and the NCIP—to document the practice of chontog by
undertaking ethnographic work in the study sites. The documentation,
which was completed in 2015, describes the chontog as a “Sustainable
Traditional Indigenous Forest Resources Management System
(STIFRMSP).” This attribution is further elaborated as thus:

Chontog is an indigenous term describing the indigenous

forest resource management system and practice of the
Ikarao and Kalanguya tribes within their ancestral domain of
Karao and Ekip, Bokod, Benguet. It exhibits a unique setting
of indigenous forest management systems attributing to the
sustainable existence of their natural resources inherent with
their culture and traditional practices maintaining their forest,
wildlife, watersheds, woodlots, pasture areas, and other forest
vegetation interspersed with their hamlets and designated
cultivated areas for livelihood (DENR 2015, 1).
14 RA BANG

In the interview, Ampey stated that the chontog is “salaknib ti

aglawlaw (it protects the surroundings/environment).” It is drawn from
an age-old practice (ugali) to promote good health and cleanliness. He
said that the chontog consists of a set of beliefs, including the mindset
that humans are not the sole occupants of the forest, as there are other
creatures residing in the forest which depend on its resources for their
existence (just like humans). Reminding of symbiotic relationships in
ecosystems, Ampey relayed that even the trees require the presence
of animals and other living creatures in order to thrive. Thus in the
chontog, the practice is to regulate the hunting of bushmeat and game
so that “tapno adda kanen ti chontog (there will be left for the forest
to eat).”

He hastens to explain, however, that hunting is no longer a

common practice because the usual game, such as wild chickens,
buwet (cloud rat), tabaw (wild cat), deer, tilay (monitor lizard), and
river produce like the small fish bunug and kiwet/igat (eel), are already
rare. Other variants of hunting, such as trapping and fishing, are also
rarely practiced, Ampey said. However, in the practice of agriculture,
which is the community's primary source of livelihood, Ampey notes
that “good practices” prescribed under the chontog remains in place.
For instance, in the uma (garden/field), weeds are used as organic
fertilizer. At the same time, commercial farming methods are practiced
alongside organic farming. The use of both methods results in a more
profitable yield.

Even though they have appropriated non-traditional farming

methods, the community also still uses folk practices in sustaining
resources. One such practice is the planting of gabi (taro) near springs
to encourage water retention. Chontog prohibits the cutting of trees
near springs and other bodies of water to avoid trampling the grass
and destroying designated forest pathways.

The practice of chontog also acts as folk superstition, especially

when it comes to prohibited acts. With each violation of chontog,
it is believed that bad luck will befall a person or a community as
punishment from the pani’djew (spirits). In this instance, Ampey says
rituals to appease the spirits need to be performed and this entails the
ritual sacrifice of animals.
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 15

Ampey explains that these practices today are always in a

clash with other sets of beliefs that seek to eliminate such for being
“satanic.” He attributes this to the edicts of religious groups that
they call the sekta, which systematically call for a stop to traditional
customs, beliefs, and practices.

These are not the only issues that confront the community as far
as their adherence to the chontog is concerned.

In the documentation, the chontog was considered a practice of

the Karao, who are the “original settlers” of Barangays Karao and
Ekip. However, Ampey admits that the people of Barangay Ekip could
no longer be categorically described as “original settlers,” because
migration and intermarriages have already brought changes to the
demographic.

Another implication of outside contact, according to Ampey, is a

gradual diminishing of a peoples' fealty to local customs, practices, and
traditions. He cited that there are a number of “original settlers” who
have sold properties to outsiders without realizing that their actions
might result to the detriment of the environment. Anecdotally, this is
the situation that confronted the community as they were made aware
of timber products that were washed downstream because of logging
operations. They say that the loggers were in fact “outsiders” (to mean
that they are not from Ekip, but from neighboring municipalities) who
were able to purchase properties from the “original settlers.”

While there are laws and issuances that penalize violators of the
total log ban, enforcement by state regulators seems to be lacking.
Ampey mentions that barangay tanods (peace officers), who also act
as forest rangers, can only report incidents but they do not have the
power to enforce the law or apprehend violators. Furthermore, they
fear for their personal safety as well.

Indigenous knowledge systems and practices today

Filing charges against the loggers seems like a plausible option. After
all, if the exploitation of forest resources is a law enforcement problem,
16 RA BANG

then proper enforcement would correct this wrongdoing. However, this

situation reveals how easily forest resources can be misused, and how a
community claiming to practice sustainable forest management can be
equally complicit in the destruction of natural resources because they
sell their property to outsiders.

The problem, like the circumstances that led to the community’s

observations of their surroundings after the onslaught of Typhoon
Ompong, is just as complex: how to achieve a sustainable society
given the prevalence of both state policies and traditional systems that
supposedly promote the sustainable use of natural resources. Enforcing
the chontog via legislation effectively transforms this practice from a
customary law into state law. While documenting the practice will give
the IPs a semblance of a roadmap of the tradition, this also means
that it will have a weakened cultural foothold because transfer of
knowledge was traditionally done orally. However, the codification and
legislation of the practice could also be a form of empowerment of the
IPs, as embodied in the IPRA, especially becuase they “are among the
least powerful and most vulnerable to climate change, and indeed are
already being impacted as so-called frontline communities” (Powless
2012, 411).

There is no doubt that the intention for codifying the chontog

in ethnography and in legislation stems from a global indigenous
movement that recognizes the right of IPs to “challenge[ ] official
decision-making processes while demanding inclusion on their own
terms” (ibid., 412). By institutionalizing the chontog through official
channels, it is envisioned that

They [(indigenous peoples)] are constructing alternative

spaces and forms of Indigenous collective power and, to some
extent, with allied movements. They are guided by an evolving
understanding of the roots of environmental injustice in
colonialism and capitalism, as well as by a positive alternative
vision of Indigenous knowledge, rights, and lifeways that
has resonated beyond Indigenous Peoples and thus can
potentially serve as a beacon for the larger climate justice
movement going forward (ibid.).
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 17

At the same time, as the state promotes the widespread practice

of this traditional method, the question of how this act differs from
previous government issuances claiming to promote environmental
sustainability and people's right to land is raised. According to Ampey,
they have concluded that the situation has not changed in the sense
that the status quo, which subjects traditional economic practices
to state prohibitions, still prevails. “We are allowed (by the DENR)
to cultivate our lands but we should not expand from our currently
occupied area,” said Ampey.

Dobson (2003, 3) explains that a change in behavior will last

“only as long as the incentives or disincentives are in place—and
these are inevitably subject to the vagaries of fashion, experiment, and
the direction of the political wind that happens to be blowing at the
time (underscoring supplied).” He goes on to argue that achieving a
sustainable society requires more than formalizing and institutionalizing
a previously ingrained cultural practice and that penalties only invite
attempts to get around them (ibid.). With regulations, there is a need
to conceive a set of incentives in order to redirect patterns of behavior
in sustainable directions. In the end, “sustainable behavior cannot be
reduced to a discussion about balancing carrots and sticks” (Beckman
2001, 179; quoted in Dobson 2003, 3).

One aspect that resonates from the documentation of the chontog

is the acknowledgment that the indigenous political system is lacking
or, at best, has declined in the community. This pertains to the
council of elders which governs the decision-making processes in the
community (DENR 2015). It said “this traditional mode of leadership
is seldom used, owing to the political influence of the central
government that intruded (into) the affairs of the indigenous peoples.
Administrative bodies were setup by the state to administer their
affairs. Local government units run parallel to the leadership systems
of local villages, whereby traditional leadership has declined” (DENR
2015, 8).

As the documentation suggests, the fact that the indigenous

political system has diminished over generations presents a problem in
governance and decision-making, and therefore, the central government
should still take an active role in forest management system despite
18 RA BANG

a recognition of the existence of a culturally rooted practice. A

fundamental issue with the documentation is that the document is
densely written, while claiming to be empirical evidence.

However, it is also true that what the documentation of the

Chontog has dealt with is indigenous knowledge that, when codified,
has seemingly presented itself as scientific knowledge. Ross and
Pickering (2002, 190) however, elaborate on the difference between
scientific knowledge and indigenous knowledge when they say that

One of the main differences between scientific (and therefore

government) knowledge about resource management
and indigenous intellectual property regarding resource
management is the nature of the ecological knowledge
possessed by the two. Scientific knowledge is often
categorized and compartmentalized, whereas indigenous
knowledge is holistic and set within an ecosystems
framework (Ross and Quandamooka 1996a; Wolfley
1998).

The “ecosystem” that is being referred to above is continuously

changing as it is being re-shaped by natural and political forces.
While the chontog has governed resource management in the area
for generations, the basis for resource management is not the chontog
per se, but nature (underscoring supplied). Michell (2005, 39; quoted
in Aikenhead and Ogawa 2007, 553) put it succinctly in saying that
‘‘[n]ature provides a blue print of how to live well and all that is
necessary to sustain life.’’ Within these terms, “knowledge systems
and ways of knowing nature [becomes] [i]ndigenous knowledge”
(Aikenhead and Ogawa 2007, 539).

Aikenhead and Ogawa (2007, 553) argue that differentiating

indigenous knowledge and scientific knowledge is like locating the
difference between the “journey” and the “destination,” in the sense
that

The process of generating or learning Indigenous ways of

living in nature is coming to know (Cajete 2000b), or coming
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 19

to knowing (Peat 1994) [underscoring supplied], phrases

that connote a journey. Coming to know differs from the
Eurocentric science process to know (i.e., to discover) that
connotes a destination, such as a patent or a published
record of a discovery. An Indigenous coming to know is a
journey toward wisdom or a journey in wisdom-in-action, not
a destination of discovering knowledge.

It is not that the documentation and the information contained

about the chontog are false or bears a misrepresentation of the
practice. It is, after all, a product of a painstaking research process
undertaken by the stakeholders whose rigor cannot be discounted or
diminished. However, it cannot be assumed as well for us to consider
the documentation as categorical and compartmentalized in a way
that science is viewed in conventional terms. Indigenous knowledge,
according to Ross and Pickering (2002), is holistic and is rooted in the
immediate environement of a given people.

Furthermore, “while indigenous peoples have sometimes caused

extinctions and degraded environments, they have often persisted for
millennia in their territories by using detailed adaptive knowledge”
(Krech 1999; cited in Mauro and Hardison 2000, 1263). This
“adaptive knowledge” sometimes fuels the reluctance of some scientists
to trust the efficacy of indigenous knowledge. Mauro and Hardison
(2000, 1263) admit that “[s]cientists are often skeptical of the value
of [indigenous knowledge] unless it has been recast in scientific
terms.” However, they also concede that “[i]ndigenous peoples and
local communities have an important role in the management of
biodiversity” and that indigenous knowledge “is an evolving subject of
national and international law” (ibid.).

If such is the case, the subject of the chontog must not and should
not be kept within the confines of the documentation’s pages. As an
“evolving subject” (ibid.), indigenous knowledge should be constantly
revisited to account for its uncovered and changing aspects and to
capture its continuous unraveling in the process of “coming to know”
(Aikenhead and Ogawa 2007). To observe the inextricable relationship
between nature and humanity, one need only look at the link between
20 RA BANG

the legal aspect of promoting chontog and indigenous peoples' rights.

It is argued, on the other hand, that the lens of citizenship must not be
focused on the people alone, but on the environment as well.

“A new politics of obligation”

Dobson (2003, 85), quoting Smith (1998), calls this “a new politics
of obligation,” emphasizing that “human beings have obligations to
animals, trees, mountains, oceans, and other members of the biotic
community.” This challenges the conventional idea that non-humans
are not included in our conceptions of justice and citizenship, which
largely leads to a tendency for people to gloss over the ethics and
morality of environmental exploitation. Christoff (1996, 157; quoted
in Dobson 2003, 86) explains this further by saying “it is helpful to
look at notions of citizenship from a completely different angle and
turn to conceptions of citizenship based on moral responsibility and
participation in the public sphere rather than those defined formally by
legal relationships to the state.”

For instance, it can be argued that the loggers who destroyed

Barangay Ekip are also members of indigenous groups, and can
therefore invoke the provisions of the IPRA to justify their actions.
However, if present policies are extended to conventional civil, political,
and social laws, then such persons will fall under the jurisdiction of
environmental laws.

Van Steenbergen (1994b, 146; quoted in Dobson 2003, 88)

argues for ecological citizenship, which “has [something] to do with
the extension rights to non-human beings.” As citizenship is usually
ascribed to humans, Dobson (2003, 88) goes on to argue “that [non-
human] beings are moral patients and therefore must be regarded
as members of the moral community.” There are no incentives for
politicians to talk about ecological citizenship in the community.
Instead, they rely on the hope that people will choose to do good for
reasons other than fear of punishment or loss, and desire for economic
reward or social status—that is, that “people sometimes do good
because they want to be virtuous” (Beckman 2001, 179; quoted in
Dobson 2003, 129).
 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 21

However, it should also be acknowledged reality that if we think

that the documentation and codification of the chontog is self-evident
and self-realizing, then all efforts would go to waste. Working on
ground and at the grassroots is still the path for the attainment of a
sustainable society. After all, “people,” as Dobson (2003, 8) argues,
“are the ‘raw material’ of the democratic process and what they think
and do makes a difference to the process's outcomes—if we do not
believe that, then why endorse democratic procedures in the first
place?”
22 RA BANG

References
Aikenhead, Glen S., and Masakata Ogawa. 2007. “Indigenous
Knowledge and Science Revisited.” Cultural Studies of Science
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Comiso, Josefino C., Catalino A. Blanche, Terry I. Sarigumba, Ma.

Victoria O. Espaldon, Felino P. Lansigan (Coordinating Lead
Authors). 2014. Changing Philippine Climate: Impacts on
Agriculture and Natural Resources. Quezon City: University of the
Philippines Press.

Department of Environment and Natural Resources–Cordillera

Administrative Region. 2015. “Sustainable Indigenous Forest
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Dobson, Andrew. 2003. Citizenship and the Environment. Oxford/

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Mauro, Francesco, and Preston D. Hardison. 2000. “Traditional

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Powless, Ben. 2012. “An Indigenous Movement to Confront Climate

Change.” Globalizations 9, no. 3: 411–24. https://doi.org/10.1080/
14747731.2012.680736.

Republic of the Philippines. 1975. Presidential Decree No. 705

(“Revised Forestry Code”). Signed May 19, 1975.

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———. 1977b. Presidential Decree No. 1152 (“Philippine

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 U P C I DS DI S CUSSI ON PA P ER 2 0 2 0 -0 2 23

———. 1997. Republic Act No. 8371 (“Indigenous Peoples Rights Act
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Ross, Anne, and Kathleen Pickering. 2002. “The Politics of

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