Reading time
7 min
To share this contribution please copy the url below
EN

Mgo Ngaran, Puwason (Manobo language) Sa Kada Ngalan, Lasang (Sugbuanon language) Sa Bawat Ngalan, Kagubatan (Filipino) For Every Name, a Forest (English)

 

The Kulago is the loudest bird in the Pantaron forest in the Philippines, where the Indigenous peoples have been displaced from their land and subsequently 'red-tagged' for speaking out. The Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective borrows its name from the bird and are a collective of majority Pantaron Range Lumad members. Here they introduce their story and their practice. The piece extends their contribution in Climate Forum IV ‘Our world lives when their world ceases to exist’.

Amid the pandemic lockdowns in 2021, Manobo and Tinananun Indigenous elders in the self-organized camps in Davao City recreated forest sounds from memory and explained their meanings and use. The sounds and stories behind these sounds were documented and later taught to children in the camps, many of whom were born in exile and have never experienced forest life in their ancestral domains. The sounds correspond to different birds, animals and insects, some of which haven’t been seen in years. A bird call recording is for children and future generations to remember: the sound of the forest offers a way of hiding from kidnaps and killings, as well as respecting the forest by learning its voice.

Home of endangered flora and fauna, and the source of several rivers, vast areas of the Pantaron Range have been usurped for large-scale monocrop plantations, mining and logging operations, disrupting the most important watershed and biodiversity corridor in Mindanao. Government and corporate interests have been driving out the Indigenous / Lumad stewards of the Pantaron Range, even labelling them as terrorists (Lumad is the Philippine term for Indigenous people).1 Some Indigenous groups, vocally critical of this injustice, have been displaced and are now exiles in their own land, living in self-organised camps and sanctuaries across the Philippine archipelago; some have gone into hiding under threat of death, and several have been martyred.

Land reform in the Philippines has failed. The current oligarchic Philippine elite continue to perpetuate the injustices committed by Spanish and American colonizers. Mining contracts are made at the expense of Lumad lands, endangering watersheds and entire ecosystems for short-term profit. Since 2016, many human rights defenders, activists, and journalists have been killed in ‘unresolved crimes’ after being ‘red-tagged’ by the government, 2 with no-one held to account for their murder. Farmer and peasant landlessness too go hand in hand with the continued exploitation and forced expulsion of the Lumad.

It is in this context that the Pantaron Mountain Range, which is home to many Lumad peoples, has been exploited via gold mining, logging and infrastructure, causing watersheds to be toxified, the rice fields to be bulldozed and Lumad peoples to be displaced. The mountain range is the source of food, medicine, materials and other necessities for Lumad peoples. This is what we (Kulagu tu Buvongan and Lumad peoples) stand up for, what we defend. The headwaters of most of the major rivers of Mindanao island spring from the Pantaron. The wild animals live in Pantaron. The trees live in Pantaron. Pantaron is gold.

When the logging started, we started organizing. Father Paps told us: ‘Individual action is not enough. There must be collective action from the Indigenous (Lumad) peoples.’ This is how we united with the Manobo from the Pantaron Mountain Range. Defending the mountains is not bad. Protecting the mountains of Mindanao is not bad. My actions are not just for my sake. They are also for the sake of others.

It was in late 2021 that Kulagu Tu Buvongan, a collective of majority Pantaron Range Lumad members, held a series of recording sessions and workshops in the camps in Davao City, focused on forest calls and non-lexical vocables, non-words used in daily forest life that mimic forest fauna sounds. Recreated from memory by several Indigenous elders in the camps who explained their meanings and use – some sacred, some for play – these sounds were later taught to Lumad children, many of whom, as before, were born in exile.

A forest of sounds is a manifestation of these recording sessions and workshops: made by displaced human voices documenting a place they cannot yet return to, a landscape in the midst of disappearance. Kulagu Tu Buvongan’s works are performative at home, and have been shared as installations elsewhere.

The mobilization and production of these recordings was initially supported by OCAC Taipei in 2021, with additional donations by Quezon City-based artist Lyra Garcellano and The Observatory (a rock band based in Singapore), along with the personal resources and initiative of the collective members. Meanwhile, Lumad schools continue to be attacked by state military and paramilitary troops.3 Most of the collective members and people involved are kept anonymous. The raw video documentation materials were lost soon after the recording.

Names of animals in Manobo written on the palm of someone’s hand; also feet, recording equipment and the earth below. Kulagu Tu Buvongan forest sound recording session, Davao City, 2021. Photograph: Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective

Elder reflected in recording equipment documenting Kulagu Tu Buvongan forest sound recording session in Davao City, 2021. Photograph: Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective

Simple instruments fashioned from plant materials with which forest sounds were made in addition to human voices. Kulagu Tu Buvongan forest sound recording session, Davao City, 2021. Photograph: Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective 

From the initial workshops in 2021, the collective’s projects have since travelled across the world as iterative installations at various venues: the voices of Pantaron Range elders and their children are presented through a multichannel sound set-up, with the addition of visual components specific to the location.

Few people actually realize that Hong Kong’s art space Para Site exists on the top floor of the twenty-two storey building it occupies, which most people know by the more prominent occupant of the first floor, a provider of funeral services. For our 2023 installation there, an LED strip faced out of the windows listing the names of Indigenous activists martyred in the Philippines since the Duterte presidency began in 2016, while the Pantaron Range forest sound recordings wove in and out through the staircase and into the open space. Here, as you looked at the names on the LED, you knew you did so amid Hong Kong and against the backdrop of its development, with its many ties to Philippine migrant labour and to exploitative practices in the Philippines.

For the 2024 iteration at FONTE in São Paulo, along with the sound component of the work, the names of Brazilian Indigenous activists who were martyred during a similar time period during the Bolsonaro presidency were streamed on another LED alongside the names of those from the Philippines.

 Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective, LED strip listing martyred Philippine Indigenous activists, detail of forest sound installation exhibited as part of ‘signals…瞬息: signals… here and there’, Para Site, Hong Kong, 12 August – 29 September 2023.  Photograph: Jason Chen

Kulagu Tu Buvongan collective, São Paulo iteration of forest sound installation, exhibited as part of ‘A Fonte Deságua na Floresta’ (A Spring Flows Into the Forest), FONTE, São Paulo, 27 July – August 2024.  Photograph: Filipe Berndt

We want our voices to be heard not just in Mindanao or in the Philippines. We want the whole world to hear. We tell them: We do not have any regrets over being red-tagged. Our consciences are clear. There are no intentions behind our activism other than to think and act for the common good. We tell our children that we have no regrets.


Philippine Indigenous activists killed July 2016 to June 20214 :

Joaquin Cadacgan, 9 July 2016
Remar Mayantao, 12 July 2016
Senon Nacaytuna, 12 July 2016
Rogen Suminao, 12 July 2016
Hermi Alegre, 15 July 2016
Makenet Gayoran, 30 July 2016
Jimmy Barosa, 12 August 2016
Jerry ‘Dandan’ Layola, 12 August 2016
Jessebelle Sanchez, 12 August 2016
Jimmy Saypan, 10 October 2016
Venie Diamante, 5January 2017
Veronico Delamente, 20January 2017
Renato Anglao, 3 February 2017
Matanem Pocuan, 4 February 2017
Moryel Latan, 6 February 2017
Emelito Rotimas, 6 February 2017
Jerson Bito, 11 February 2017
Pipito Tiambong, 11 February 2017
Edweno ‘Edwin’ Catog, 16 February 2017
Datu Pedro Pandagay, 23 March 2017
Federico Plaza, 3 May 2017
Mario Versoza, 21 May 2017
Daniol Lasib, 26 May 2017
Ana Marie Aumada, 27 May 2017
Ande Latuan, 6 July 2017
Remond Lino, 12 July 2017
Romy Rompas, 16 August 2017
Roger ‘Titing’ Timboco, 23 August 2017
Obello Bay-ao, 5 September 2017
Erning Aykid, 15 September 2017
Aylan Lantoy, 15 September 2017
Samuel Angkoy, 3 December 2017
Mateng Bantal, 3 December 2017
Pato Celarbo, 3 December 2017
Artemio Danyan, 3 December 2017
Rhudy Danyan, 3 December 2017
Victor Jr Danyan, 3 December 2017
Datu Victor Danyan Sr, 3 December 2017
To Diamante, 3 December 2017
Ricky Olado, 28 January 2018
Ricardo Mayumi, 2 March 2018
Garito Malibato, 22 March 2018
Jhun Mark Acto, 21 April 2018
Dande Lamubkan, 30 April 2018
Carlito Sawad, 23 May 2018
Burad Salping, 25 May 2018
Beverly Geronimo, 26 May 2018
Jose Unahan, 6 June 2018
Nestor Sacote, 10 June 2018
Menyo Yandong, 10 August 2018
Rolly Panebio, 18 August 2018
Jean Labial, 19 August 2018
Rex Hangadon, 15 September 2018
Jimmy Ambat, 7 October 2018
Esteban Empong Sr, 18 November 2018
Rommel Romon, 23 November 2018
Randel Gallego, 24 January 2019
Emel Tejero, 24 January 2019
Randy Malayao, 30 January 2019
Sanito ‘Tating’ Delubio, 1 March 2019
Jerome Pangadas, 15 March 2019
Kaylo Bontolan, 7 April 2019
Datu Mario Agsab, 8 July 2019
Alex Lacay, 9 August 2019
Jeffrey Bayot, 12 August 2019
Bai Leah Tumbalang, 23 August 2019
Sammy Pohayon, 11 September 2019
Romen Milis, 25 April 2020
Roel Baog, 1 May 2020
Reynante Linas, 1 May 2020
Don Don Cenimo, 11 June 2020
Randy Pindig,11 June 2020
Bai Merlinda Ansabu Celis, 23 August 2020
Resky Ma Ellon, 3 November 2020
Deric John A. Datuwata, 5 November 2020
Mario Aguirre, 30 December 2020
Garson Catamin, 30 December 2020
Maurito Diaz Sr, 30 December 2020
Rolando Diaz, 30 December 2020
Eliseo Gayas Jr, 30 December 2020
Roy Giganto, 30 December 2020
Reynaldo Katipunan, 30 December 2020
Artilito Katipunan Sr, 30 December 2020
Jomar Vidal, 30 December 2020
Julie Catamin, 28 February 2021
Randy ‘Pulong’ Dela Cruz, 7 March 2021
Puroy Dela Cruz, 7 March 2021
Abner Esto, 7 March 2021
Edward Esto, 7 March 2021
Angel Rivas, 15 June 2021
Lenie Rivas, 15 June 2021
Willie Rodriguez, 15 June 2021

Adopted from the Bisayan word meaning ‘indigenous’ or ‘native’, Lumad, as their collective name was announced in 1986, along with their right to self-determination within their respective ancestral domains; representatives from 15 tribes took part in the decision.’ Rudy Buhay Rodil, Asia Peacebuilding Initiatives (APBI), 4 November 2014, spf.orgSee HRF staff, ‘Red-Tagging in the Philippines: A License to Kill’, Human Rights Foundation, 10 April 2023, hrf.orgSee ‘Lumad schools under attack in mineral-rich Mindanao’, IBON Foundation,17 March 2017, ibon.orgCourtesy of Philippine Indigenous rights organizations Katribu and Sandugo. See respectively .katribu.net and facebook.com.Adopted from the Bisayan word meaning ‘indigenous’ or ‘native’, Lumad, as their collective name was announced in 1986, along with their right to self-determination within their respective ancestral domains; representatives from 15 tribes took part in the decision.’ Rudy Buhay Rodil, Asia Peacebuilding Initiatives (APBI), 4 November 2014, spf.orgSee HRF staff, ‘Red-Tagging in the Philippines: A License to Kill’, Human Rights Foundation, 10 April 2023, hrf.orgSee ‘Lumad schools under attack in mineral-rich Mindanao’, IBON Foundation,17 March 2017, ibon.orgCourtesy of Philippine Indigenous rights organizations Katribu and Sandugo. See respectively .katribu.net and facebook.com.Adopted from the Bisayan word meaning ‘indigenous’ or ‘native’, Lumad, as their collective name was announced in 1986, along with their right to self-determination within their respective ancestral domains; representatives from 15 tribes took part in the decision.’ Rudy Buhay Rodil, Asia Peacebuilding Initiatives (APBI), 4 November 2014, spf.orgSee HRF staff, ‘Red-Tagging in the Philippines: A License to Kill’, Human Rights Foundation, 10 April 2023, hrf.orgSee ‘Lumad schools under attack in mineral-rich Mindanao’, IBON Foundation,17 March 2017, ibon.orgCourtesy of Philippine Indigenous rights organizations Katribu and Sandugo. See respectively .katribu.net and facebook.com.

Related activities

Related contributions and publications