By Cong Corrales / Mindanao Gold Star Daily
NEARING its third decade, the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act (Republic Act 8371) has failed to deliver on its promise to improve the plight and development of tribal communities across the country.
Enacted on Oct. 29, 1997, the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act (IPRA) was envisioned as a landmark law to recognize and protect the collective rights of Indigenous Cultural Communities and Indigenous Peoples.
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It guaranteed their rights to ancestral domains and self-governance, and promised social justice, cultural integrity and equal access to basic services.
To carry this out, the law created the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples, or NCIP.
Nearly 30 years later, these promises remain largely unfulfilled.
From the Cordilleras to Mindanao, Lumad and other indigenous communities continue to live in poverty, displacement, and neglect.
By the numbers
According to the 2023 Human Development Index report by the United Nations Development Programme, the Philippines ranks 117th among 193 countries, with an HDI score of 0.720.
Beneath this national figure, however, are indigenous communities who live far below the poverty line and suffer limited access to education, health care and safe drinking water.
The UNDP notes that many indigenous populations are in geographically isolated and disadvantaged areas where government services rarely reach.
These are also the same areas that often become battlegrounds over land and natural resources — conflicts that IPRA was meant to prevent.
Violence on ancestral land
In the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (Barmm), violence against indigenous peoples continues to escalate.
The advocacy group Climate Conflict Action condemned the brutal killing of Teduray leader Ramon Lupos, calling it the 102nd death of a non-Moro Indigenous person in the region.
“Each killing is a reminder that promises of protection remain empty, and justice remains out of reach,” the group said in a statement titled “Without justice, there is no protection.”
In Maguindanao del Sur, Timuay Labi Letecio Datuwata, head of the Timuay Justice and Governance, reported that 94 people have died in land disputes, including 78 last year near the boundary of Datu Hoffer and Ampatuan towns.
“These conflicts are fueled by armed groups, some linked to the Moro Islamic Liberation Front,” Datuwata said.
He added: “The violence is concentrated around MILF camps, worsening land-grabbing issues for the Teduray.”
While some cases have been mediated by the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples’ Affairs through ‘blood money’ payments and land returns, the majority remain unresolved.
Indigenous leaders say communities are often caught between armed factions and political interests.
A law undermined by inaction
The IPRA mandates the NCIP to issue Certificates of Ancestral Domain Title and Certificates of Ancestral Land Title, legal documents recognizing ownership of ancestral lands.
Between 2002 and 2023, only 221 CADTs covering 5,413,772 hectares were issued. Twenty-eight years since its enactment, the law’s performance remains disappointing: it has successfully recognized the rights of just over 1.2 million Indigenous Peoples, highlighting a profound failure in its mandate.
While more titles followed, overlapping land claims and weak coordination with other government agencies have rendered many unenforceable.
The Free and Prior Informed Consent process, meant to ensure genuine community participation before any development project, has also been criticized.
Indigenous groups say consent is often obtained under duress or without full disclosure, especially in mining, logging, and energy projects.
The Ancestral Domain Sustainable Development and Protection Plan, designed to align community priorities with national development, often remains a token document — sidelined by bureaucratic inefficiency or private interests.
The NCIP question
The NCIP, once envisioned as the main protector of IP rights, has long faced criticism over its limited independence and capacity.
Civil society groups and tribal leaders have raised concerns about political interference and lack of transparency in the appointment of commissioners.
As the IPRA’s 28th anniversary approaches, the NCIP continues to struggle with chronic low funding, limited reach, and deeply declining trust.
Even the Indigenous Peoples Code in BARMM, a regional counterpart to IPRA, has fallen short of expectations, offering little real protection to Teduray and Lambangian communities.
Unfinished business
When Congress passed IPRA in 1997, it was hailed as one of Asia’s most progressive laws on indigenous peoples’ rights. Yet, nearly three decades later, its legacy is marked by contradictions — recognition without protection, autonomy without power and rights without justice.
As another Indigenous Peoples Month passes under the shadow of killings and displacement, the call for accountability grows louder. “Without justice,” advocates remind, “there can be no protection.”
If the state truly seeks to honor its indigenous peoples, it must breathe life into the spirit of IPRA — not just through commemorations, but through concrete action: genuine land protection, empowerment and peace built on respect for ancestral roots.
For the country’s first peoples, survival remains the unfinished promise of the law meant to save them. #
