Thank you.
Honourable chair and members of the subcommittee, thank you for inviting me again to appear before you.
Receiving an award or recognition for one's work is undoubtedly an occasion for great satisfaction and joy, but this time it is also with a sobering thought that this recognition and celebration is necessary today because the situation of human rights in my country has become so dire. Championing human rights is really just common sense and regular work, a normal part of one's life, except when human rights are threatened and violated every day, and especially when the threat emanates from the highest level of government. Then, to uphold and defend human rights becomes a dangerous act, and to persist in their defence becomes extraordinary and heroic. This is how it is in the Philippines today. This is not the way it is supposed to be. I would give anything, everything, not to have to be here because that would mean that it's all right in my homeland and that working on human rights needs no special acknowledgement.
We all know that that is not the case. It is with profound gratitude that I take my place on the panel before you today. Thank you for providing a safe space for us to be able to speak about the crisis of human rights in our respective countries. Thank you for giving us a platform to remind the world that in the darkness that envelopes our home countries today, there are people who continue to struggle and who refuse to surrender to the dark night.
I know that today's honour speaks less to me and my achievements and more to the importance of doing this work today. Even more, I recognize that I am here not just for myself, but for the many more who continue to fight, especially the women who have been especially targeted for persecution and intimidation, especially the women in the communities that have encountered and continue to endure the state's most brutal violence.
As I told you last April, human rights has not really been the focus of my work over the past several decades. Since 1987, following the downfall of Marcos, my major effort has focused on the field of conflict resolution and peace-building, pursuing the belief that civilians and ordinary, unarmed citizens are major stakeholders, if not the primary claimants, in any peace process. The peace talks are too important to be left just to the combatants to work out. Peace work is constant and collective work. We built the Philippines peace movement that, among other things, established and upheld peace zones, which community residents declared as off limits to any display of weapons, that unilaterally declared ceasefires to silence the guns marking special occasions. That pushed the government to set up a full-time peace office under the office of the president and to adopt a multi-draft peace policy to end the many fronts of internal armed conflict left behind by the Marcos dictatorship.
In 2010, I crossed over from civil society to the public service for the second time to serve in the Aquino cabinet as overseer of this office. Under my watch, in March 2014, the Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro, CAB, was signed. Three women signed the CAB on the part of government, including the government's chief negotiator, a first in the world. Despite soiled implementation and presidential waffling in the first years of the Duterte presidency, the CAB has held, putting in place the new and enhanced Bangsamoro Autonomous Region with a transitional regional government now led by the MILF.
On the other hand, my work with the women's movement started earlier, in 1981, when I co-founded PILIPINA with a handful of NGO women, arguably the first women's organization in the Philippines that explicitly tagged itself as feminist. At this time, Imelda Marcos was parading her brand of leadership on the global stage, shaping the national women's machinery into her image, where the conjugal dictatorship ran a well-oiled machinery of murder and plunder that bloodied the countryside and bled the national coffers dry. There came to be a blossoming of women's organizations, and in 1985, we were confident and consolidated enough to bring an alternative NGO report to the World Conference on Women in Nairobi. Women would join the fight against Marcos on all fronts, and so it was that the images of our 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution would show military tanks stopped in their tracks by outstretched hands holding rosaries and flowers.
The intervening years after EDSA saw the women's movement building on its gains and pushing, relentlessly pushing, to overcome and stretch the limits of women's participation in the public and private spheres; incrementally building a legal architecture, which today includes laws against sexual harassment, violence against women and children, and rape, including in marriage; legislation upholding the rights of women in agriculture and the informal sector; a long-fought-for, hard-won reproductive health law, an omnibus magna carta of women, which embeds it all in Philippine domestic law, providing a law. Even in the recently ended last congress, through the hard work of the battered opposition, led by Senator Risa Hontiveros, the safe streets and public spaces law was passed. Notably, the law was not signed by the president. Not being vetoed, it simply lapsed into law.
There was always more work to be done in homes, workplaces and public spaces to make sure that laws became reality, that women overcame barriers of culture and poverty, and to continuously assert that the glass ceilings being broken by Filipino women should not blind us to the multiple loads and burdens and sometimes impossible pain that our sisters who barely survive in the cellar continue to suffer.
The work was far from done, but with Filipino women being ranked at the top of Asia's gender equality index and the Philippines being the only Asian country in the top 10 global ranking, we felt assured that we were on the right track, that gains would not be reversed. It could only get better.
Did the women's movement get complacent? Possibly. Probably. Our base organizing work no longer inflamed the fire in the belly. Gender equality efforts turned more technical and maybe even bureaucratic. They were less feminist and fierce. Certainly we were not ready for the way our world has been turned upside down since Duterte took office in July 2016. We never imagined we would ever have to face attacks against women of the sort, gravity, frequency, flagrancy, and willfulness that are now our almost daily fare. No woman has been spared and no man, as everyone's mother, daughter, sister, aunt, or grandmother, has been made more vulnerable to violence, both physical and psychological. No one has been spared. Everyone has been urged to succumb to their basest instincts as senior officials laugh, take pictures, and rationalize presidential misbehaviour, and large portions of the audience laugh and call the president authentic, finally a president who is one of them.
This is the Philippines as we have never known it and never imagined it could be. The fight has to be fought every day and on every front and at every level to make sure that this does not become our permanent reality.
We are caught off balance by the cruelty and viciousness, indeed by the utter shamelessness, of Duterte's attacks on women. But as I pointed out last time, there is, in fact, method in his madness. He's not simply unhinged. His are calculated attacks that aim to silence dissent by making an example of the women he has publicly vilified, slut-shamed, and punished in order to promote a culture of impunity that has resulted in the narrowing of political, social and economic discourse in the country.
Let us not forget the growing list of women leaders who have dared to cross his line and have suffered the consequences. I will not name all of them here now because of time constraints, but I will mention only Senator Leila de Lima, who today marks her 833rd day in solitary detention without any shadow of a forthcoming conviction as her court trials are going nowhere.
The message is clear and chilling. If this can be done to powerful and prominent women, then with greater ease it can be done to others.
In April, I also spoke about the two most pressing human rights crises that are burning in the Philippines today. I regret to inform the subcommittee that the crises continue to rage with no end in sight. The killings continue in the bloody war on drugs, which has widowed countless women and orphaned countless children, who are becoming a new underclass of the urban poor.
With the Philippine Supreme Court establishing that more than 20,000 had already been killed by 2017, the number of victims already far exceeds the 3,257 reportedly killed under Marcos' martial law.
In the face of growing criticism of its bloody anti-drug war by the church and other sectors, Duterte pronounced, during his state of the nation address in July last year, that this war on drugs will continue. In his words, the war against illegal drugs “will not be sidelined. Instead, it will be as relentless and chilling, if you will, as on the day it began.” It is a war against the poor, now spreading to other urbanized areas outside of Manila. Its costs will haunt us for generations.
In Marawi, the tent city set up during the siege, now mostly dusty, torn and still waterless, is still standing as home to displaced residents who have had to mark their second Ramadan since the siege still not knowing when they will be allowed to return to their homes in the most affected areas in the centre of the city, still without the shadow of a workable rehabilitation plan that they can look forward to and plan for.
Even worse, before the end of April, after my first appearance here, Duterte expressed his inclination to pass on to the private sector the costs of the rehabilitation of the city he had ordered carpet-bombed. Anyway, he said, “The people there have a lot of money”, this despite the huge amount his administration has received from the international community precisely for the rebuilding of Marawi.
Even today, no independent inquiry has been conducted on the true state of Marawi. Troubling reports remain unverified, with the distressing implication that whatever is being reported now is just the tip of the iceberg of an escalating human rights and humanitarian crisis. Of such crises are new and more vicious wars born.
We continue to fight the alarming status quo, but the fight has just become harder. The results of the recent elections have now all but solidified Duterte's control over all three branches of government, with the opposition failing to win any seat in the Senate, leaving the minority in the Senate even more minuscule and vulnerable. Whether this was actually a blanket public endorsement of Duterte and his resolutions, there were certainly enough anomalies in the conduct of the elections that the Commission on Elections is being asked to account. What is certain is that the recent electoral results will only further embolden Duterte and his forces.
Therefore, even as our work continues all the same, we also have to brace for harder storms ahead. We cannot operate on the assumption that democracies will course-correct on their own. Whether in the Philippines or elsewhere, we cannot assume that the storm will simply pass; that the country will eventually see sense and move towards justice and progress; that voters will see evidence and elect better leaders—leaders who won't attack women, leave a city ruined and promptly shun responsibility, and kill thousands in a futile and inutile policy.
Our recent elections alone prove that. For instance, the chief implementer of the brutal war on drugs, despite the thousands killed, is now a senator.
In terms of the violence of misogyny, the brutality of the war on drugs and the neglect of Marawi, these aberrations have existed before, and despite our best efforts, will likely exist for some time more. These are crimes for which there must someday come a full accounting, but at the same time it is also becoming clear that more than the violence, brutality and neglect, for the rest of the world the crime of our times is silence.
We are not all silent in the Philippines. A growing number are pushing back, and pushing back harder.
There are many stories to tell, but we don't have time for that. Let me just mention my human rights organization, EveryWoman. We are fighting, but too few are listening, and the government is making every effort to obscure reality and stifle dissent. Therefore, again we have to insist that this cannot be just a domestic concern. When local human rights defenders are themselves attacked and persecuted, the role of the international community of human rights defenders becomes even more important. It becomes essential.
Again I ask, on behalf of all those who are fighting at home, for the world community to stand with us. Let not Duterte and his minions think there will be no reckoning for those who attack their own people for the sake of power.
As the Canadian government launches its equality fund, may I also ask the subcommittee to consider how the fund may ensure that support be given to the women and women's organizations, those who are “pushing back against the push-back”, in the words of the minister in announcing the fund.
Again, thank you to the subcommittee. It is a great honour to be considered part of this important community.
Good afternoon.