Under martial law and through the post-Marcos era, Davao City, Mindanao’s most progressive urban center, has not been spared from the troubles that have hounded the decadent global environment. Its saga in the past half a century (1971-2016) has not been about invasions, aerial bombings, and colonial persecutions. But its ordeals, all of them stained with blood, had links to ideological ambivalence and social-class discords.
The 1970’s may be appropriately called an insurgent era because it was the period when the communist insurgency, anchored on issues of social injustice and agrarian reform, started to grip the countryside, engaging in recruitment to stop state-linked oppression. Out of this emotional struggle was the birth of an armed rebellion of the New People’s Army (NPA) that has stalked Philippine democracy since then.
A year before martial rule was declared, insurgency was already peaking. On the streets, the protests were rabid and violent; in the mountains, camps for cadre training sprouted like mushrooms. In safe houses, the plan to challenge the state went on high gear, complemented by the plan to launch a full-scale confrontation against the fascist government.
In the next decade, Davao City transmuted into a rebel hotbed. Under a martial-law regime that went haywire in just two years after its proclamation, the abuses committed by state actors further incensed the resolve of student militants to go underground and start a full-scale armed struggle. The city would become the hub of Mindanao insurgency, “a communist laboratory, ”
The rise of insurgency, though, was not without its gory results. Blood was spilled for reasons that at times defied logic. Mere suspicion of military links resulted in assassinations (or ‘purges’ as the communist labelled them). Uncertainty was further aggravated by the growing threat of secessionist Moro groups that also pursued their own ideological agenda.
Rise of vigilante
Death squads, known as ‘sparrow units’, were let loose to hunt down anti-communist personalities, civilian or uniformed service. Whether the killing spree was committed on the hills or in the urban jungle, hundreds of lives, most of them victims of suspicions, were lost. The decadent peace and order, which spelled doom for the local economy and sowed fear in the hearts of nonviolent citizens, later gave rise to a mass-based vigilante group, the Alsa Masa.
Alsa Masa’s emergence resulted in even bloodier murders solely focused on communist-linked insurgents operating the city. Though the idea would catch up later and inspire the creation of similar hunts in the provinces, the vigilante group also created its own subculture and produced iconic figures like Gen. Franco Calida, later mayor of Malalag, Davao del Sur, and the late feisty radioman Juan Porras Pala.
Born amid the turmoil that enveloped informal settlements which were easy preys of armed ideologues and insurgents, the rise of Alsa Masa swiftly resulted in gory skirmishes launched with state sanction. Agdao district, which earned the pejorative term Nicaragdao, bore the brunt of the campaign to hunt down urban rebels. As a result, a village adjacent to the old Ipil Beach became the human abattoir, prompting people to label it as Barrio Patay.
‘Religious conflict’
Ironically, the first headline-hogging incident that took the city by shock was the April 20, 1981, an Easter Sunday, when San Pedro Cathedral was bombed twice by Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) elements. Close to a dozen church-goers were killed in the attack, while around 70 individuals were injured.
Jaded pundits raised the alarm the first bombing was purposely instigated to transform the then prevailing Christian-Muslim conflict, which largely embroiled central Mindanao in armed secessionist movements, into a religious struggle.
A similar bloody assault, which involved three separate explosions, was repeated twelve years later when the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), a breakaway group, bombed the same church on December 27, 1993, also a Sunday, killing seven persons and injuring 157. Two years later, police and marine intelligence raised the possibility the second church bombing was the handiwork of a then obscure group known as Abu Sayyaf.
On June 25, 1989, the worst NPA-linked atrocity happened. Known as the Digos Massacre, the incident resulted in the carnage of 39 Sunday mass churchgoers of a small Protestant church in sitio Rano, barangay Binaton, Digos City; many of the victims were children. The incident was perpetrated by the NPA under Amado Payot, aka Benzar.
Adding insult to the massacre was the beheading of the church pastor, Ruben Ayap, and his brother. The main reason for the butchery was the refusal of the village leaders to cooperate with the rebels. Although the CPP-NPA later admitted responsibility for the mass murder, the promised indemnification did not come.
Ports under threat
Over two decades later, the worst attack to hit Davao City during peace time occurred. On March 4, 2003, Davao International Airport was bombed, leaving 21 casualties, including a foreign missionary, and injuring 148 others. The incident was blamed on Muslim terror groups such as Jemaah Islamiyah, an Al-Qaeda cell.
Less than a month later, Sasa Wharf, the region’s premier port, was blasted on April 2, 2003. The attacked was well timed just as the passengers of a docking ship were exiting the harbor. Seventeen lives were wasted, and 56 persons were wounded.
To get to the bottom of the incident, a truth commission was created but it failed to pin down exactly the identity of the perpetrators. The testimonies of people invited to shed light on the bloody events only befuddled further the direction of the investigation, especially in knowing the groups behind the massacres. One angle that was less explored was the economic implications the bombings of ports had on the safety of the city and its draw as an investment hub.
Overall, with local leaders in firm control of the situation, these brutal incidents, though, did not shoo away investors. In fact, the phenomenal rise of Davao region, as the emerging metropolitan center in the south did not escape observers, and Davao City went on to earn the honor as one of the world’s most liveable cities.
Living with danger
The backdoor channels created by the city leadership in dealing with insurgency in far-flung areas produced in some way stability to the urban progress. Peace as a primary key to bringing back rebels to the fold of law was pursued. Still, amid the positive offers extended to the insurgents in the hills, the occasional armed attacks, kidnappings, and destruction of properties remained even as the communists pursued their extortions in the guise of revolutionary taxes.
Inside the city where Task Force Davao, a military contingent, was keeping tight watch over individuals or groups wanting to sow terror, reports of sporadic explosions alarmed local residents. On February 14, 2005, Valentine’s Day, Davao City Overland Transport Terminal was ripped by an explosion that killed a minor vendor, which the Abu Sayyaf later owned up.
Eight years later, on September 17, 2013, coincident explosions hit the theatres in SM Ecoland and Gaisano Mall in the city. Though the explosions resulted only in minor injuries to moviegoers, the bombings, fortunately, happened after the Kadayawan celebrations.
But just as city mayor Rodrigo Duterte was eyeing the presidency and the rein of local government safely left in the hands of Sara Duterte-Carpio, the unexpected happened. On September 2, 2016, two weeks after the Kadayawan festivities, a bomb was exploded at the Roxas night market, killing at least 15 people and injuring seventy.
The militant group Abu Sayyaf claimed responsibility for the carnage but intelligence operatives later identified the arrested perpetrators as being linked to the Maute Group. The bombing occurred two days after vice mayor Paolo Duterte received a bomb threat that an ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) attack was imminent either in the cities of Davao or Gen. Santos.
Perils from the sea
The threat to Davao City’s stability also included the menace emanating from the gulf. In just fifteen years, two Abu Sayyaf maritime attacks affected the tourism of Davao region.
On May 22, 2001, a band of Abu Sayyaf attacked Pearl Farm Resort at the Island Garden City of Samal. The violence resulted in the slaying of two and the injuring of three others. Two of the establishment’s speedboats sustained bullet holes. Four individuals were initially held hostage but two were released after authorities engaged the kidnappers in a fire exchange.
Fifteen years later, on September 19, 2015, the bandits, numbering 11 in all and riding on speed boats, returned to the island to snatch three foreigners and a Filipino. Except for the Filipina who was released months later, the aliens met their brutal fate after the Abu Sayyaf beheaded them one by one.
Through all these ideologically-laced ordeals the city had to confront, the City Government, wielding an iron-hand in dealing with the criminals but offering the hand of peace to factions still fighting the State, bucked the odds, neutralized crimes, and installed an environment that remains attractive to migrants, investors, and prospectors.
In so few words, then city mayor Duterte may have assessed his success in ruling a city of 1.6-million inhabitants by saying: “No leader, however strong, can succeed at anything of national importance or significance unless he has the support and cooperation of the people he is tasked to lead and sworn to serve.”
Despite the declaration of martial law on July 22, 2017, Davao City continues on its way to becoming the country’s most progressive urban hub in the south. Nothing is farther from truth.
