Of Unli Rice and Blood-Stained Paddies

WRITTEN BY NATALIE GALIBUT

ILLUSTRATED BY JON BONIFACIO

ON THE 15TH OF FEBRUARY 2019, the Republic Act 11203, formerly known as Rice Tariffication Law, now called as Rice Liberalization Law, was signed. A seemingly normal day for the most of us inside the four corners of the classroom, little did we know, we have already been catapulted straight into the edge of a metaphorical cliff.

In October 2018, Pres. Rodrigo Duterte proclaimed the urgency to solve the rising price hikes of rice in the country. The solution was to allow the liberalization of rice importation which demanded the upliftment of the previously imposed quotas for rice. This will naturally permit the entrance of unprecedented quantity of foreign rice varieties. Essentially speaking, the implementation of the Rice Liberalization Law removed the safeguard for our local producers, that is to invoke the right for quota restrictions on foreign imports. Local farmers now face the foreboding pressure of competing with foreign suppliers. As per the laws of supply and demand, the entry of new competitors naturally gives way to the lowering of rice prices.

But what does it have to do with us? Won’t the lowering of prices work for our benefit? This seemingly innocuous question demands much more than a set of predetermined answers guided by economic terms. To ask whether or not it has something to do with us demands that we survey the current socio-political climate of the nation. The most pressing is the rising death toll of peasant farmers, shot in the fields or in their houses, their bodies dragged along the gravel for all the world to see. The answer can be found in one of the most well-known folk songs in our shared culture, “ Magtanim ay ‘di biro.”

It is of no question that farming is magnanimously difficult. Literally and figuratively, the weight of the nation is carried by our farmers. The backbreaking labor of farmers bring food to our tables, from cafeteria lunches to unli-rice buffets. Every moment, every mundane happenstance that we are enjoying in this moment is not without the centuries-old unceasing perseverance of marginalized farmers.

The life of farming is difficult, but a life of a farmer in a semi-feudal society is prison. It is important to clarify that when we speak of local rice farmers, we speak about the millions of families toiling under the heat of the sun. The land by which they toil on is owned by none other than the hacienderos whose imeldific wealth far outclasses the peasantry’s measly incomes. An outrageous contradiction, the ones who feed us have nothing to feed themselves with. For all the pride that comes with being an agricultural country with bountiful resources, our farmers still belong to the most marginalized social class. How can that ever reconcile with the claim that the country is, in fact, “wealthy”?

The folk song was never meant to be taken as it is, but it resonates well the cruel realities of the lives of our farmers. But as we delve deeper into the reason of what the song depicts of their situation, it would take us into the roots of the problem — that is the unjust economic and socio-political framework that favor the few. Starving farmers and their families tilling and toiling on lands they do not own and peasants victimized by militarization and extrajudicial killings are clear manifestations of our country’s blood-stained political climate.

This stanza seems to say that the farmers have no choice but to continue living each day with the same conditions they experience. However, this should instead challenge us into taking the action that is necessary to liberate not only the farmers, but the whole society, from the social injustice that results to deprivation and poverty of the majority. Thus, we must find it in ourselves not just to hear their clamors for justice and agrarian reform in every rhyme of the song, but also to take part in it as the energized youth. It is not enough that we merely know or acknowledge their struggle, rather we must stand with them as they fight for their rights and interests. ●

Sources: IBON International, NNARA