For indigenous Palaw’an and Palaweños alike, a 50-year mining moratorium passed by the Palawan Provincial Board on March 5 dealt a strong blow against mining companies in the region. But the threats of the persistence of decades-long damage still loom, as the possibility of lifting the ban remains, which has been done by state forces in the past.

Palawan’s history with extractive practices starts at its nickel-rich mountains. Low-grade nickel ore deposits, called laterite, are located underneath the base of indigenous people (IP) communities in Mt. Bulanjao and Mt. Mantalingahan. IPs at the base of these mountains subsist on rice paddies, while highlanders harvest almaciga resin and honey. 

The lands of at least two ethnic groups, including more than 100,000 Palaw’an, have long been threatened by mining operations in areas that overlap with ancestral domains, 

Of the 11 operating mines in Palawan that cover more than 7,000 hectares, most of the nickel-extracting firms dot the southern region of the island. IPs pushed for a moratorium on large-scale mining since a small-scale mining ban in 2008 took effect. The recent laterite-laced floods in the south were the tipping point for the Provincial Board to institute the 50-year moratorium through Ordinance No. 3646.

The new ordinance includes the creation of the Mining Moratorium Council, which will oversee the effects of the mine ban in the region, according to a copy of the ordinance obtained by the Collegian. It will consider possibilities to extend the moratorium on large-scale mining beyond its 50-year scope, if necessary.

But unfortunately, like the previous mine ban, it does not stop existing mine sites from operating.

While the moratorium is a welcome development for advocates, decades of corporate and state-sponsored land-grabbing and maldevelopment still have their scars on Palawan. The moratorium can only buy the region time to figure out how to hold mining to more accountability in the long run by either tightening regulations or rejecting it altogether.

How Did Mining Develop in the Region?

Palawan is home to some of the nickel-richest deposits in the country, most of which are underneath IP communities and forests.  Destructive open-pit mining techniques are used, which involve flattening mountains and digging pits, sometimes beneath sea level. Four major nickel mining companies own most of the sites in the region.

Even the reddish-brown coloration of laterite ore can be seen from satellite images of the Bulanjao mountain range.  Chunks of Bulanjao are already levelled to the ground, as pits continue to expand to neighboring mountains.  (Google Image Satellites)

One of the first companies to break open southern Palawan was Rio Tuba Nickel Mining Corp. (RTNMC) in 1969. Its success in the nickel industry prompted many domestic and foreign firms to follow suit.

RTNMC’s partner company, the Japanese-owned Coral Bay Nickel Corporation, operates a nickel ore refinery to produce export-quality intermediates. In between Rio Tuba and Puerto Princesa, a multitude of controversial mines are present: Citinickel Mines and Development Corp. in Narra, Ipilan Nickel Corporation in Brooke’s Point, and Berong Nickel Corporation in Quezon (see sidebar).

Many of these sites were made before the 1995 Mining Act and thus had minimal restrictions as the governing body of mine regulations, namely the Mines and Geosciences Bureau (MGB), was only established after the said law.

MGB implemented the process of getting Mineral Product Sharing Agreements (MPSAs). These contracts dictate the territories leased to large-scale mining companies, often in conflict with IPs’ ancestral domain

Such encroachment still occurs despite the strict requirements of obtaining IPs’ permission, which is done through the free and prior consent processes of the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP). The commission issues Certification Preconditions to ensure that the ancestral domains of IPs do not overlap with the MPSA. 

“The process has become complicated because certain IPs have been labelled as Panglima or traditional leaders even if such appointment is contentious. It is sad that despite the irregularities that marred the free and prior informed consent processes, the NCIP has issued the Certification Precondition,” said Gerthie Anda, the executive director of the Environmental Legal Assistance Center (ELAC).

These issues within the NCIP are not new. In 2023, Itogon communities in Benguet cited irregularities in consultation and transparency after the commission issued the Certification Precondition to mining company Mindex, despite resistance from the locals.

Sometimes, to get around these restrictions, companies directly talk to the leaders of these clans. In Southern Palawan, chieftains are at the forefront of these dialogues, and companies set up predatory deals for tribal leaders to surrender their land, according to Richard Eco, a CSWCD researcher who worked for RTNMC for two years. In another instance in 2017, DENR investigated Ipilan Nickel Corporation for bribery attempts to endorse the company’s operations.

Typical mine site operations in Brooke’s Point. Trucks carrying laterite pass through deforested dirt roads. Dust clouds kick up from behind them, blasting the dust into nearby communities. (ELAC)

As external pressure and harassment force IPs to concede their land, mining companies continue to expand their sites. Chunks of the Bulanjao mountain range–first mined by RTNMC in the 1970s–have been flattened.

Now, with their amended MPSAs (see sidebar), companies plan to expand operations toward Mt. Mantalingahan, a protected site under the National Integrated Protected Areas System (NIPAS) Act. But to accommodate mining corporations, protected areas were rezoned by the Palawan Council for Sustainable Development in 2008. MGB then approved a mine expansion at the base of the mountain in 2019.

Who Benefits From These Mines?

Despite these expansions, mining continues to constitute less than 1.5% of the total GDP of the country since at least 2001 until the present. This small contribution undermines the claims that mining is a necessary component of the national economy, especially since they only pay a measly 4% of the total value of mineral products exported as tax.

With these low taxes, corporations are able to cop larger profits, which incentivizes businesses to invest in the industry. In 2021, Rio Tuba Nickel Mining Corp. landed P7.81 billion in net income, while the parent company of Ipilan Nickel Corp. reported P8.8 billion in net income in 2023. 

Such gains, however, are mostly directed outward in the absence of sufficient domestic nickel-manufacturing industries. Enterprises focus on moderate refinement for export (see sidebar).

Spike in nickel demand follows the push for renewable energy-powered technologies across the globe. These green technologies, including electric vehicles and solar panels, require nickel, copper, and other lucrative metals often found in the Global South. 

But continued oversupply in the market has led to a lowering of the price of nickel commodities (Sidebar 4), further underscoring the volatility of nickel. These are ultimately driven by foreign interests in these metals, and shortsighted domestic interests to extract them.

Japan has a strong interest in the local nickel production, as most of the nickel is shipped to its manufacturing sector. Japanese firms hold as much as 30% of the shares of some local mining companies in Palawan. These Japanese companies include Pacific Metals Co., which owns 36% of the shares of Rio Tuba Nickel Mining, and Sumitomo Metal Mining Co., which fully owns Coral Bay.

These corporations have long prioritized commercial profits over community welfare. A Sumitomo-owned mine in Indonesia has faced local resistance against its expansion, while Pacific Metals was found to have exploited a Filipino geologist, making him stay and render service to the company for a year despite being only offered a two-month contract.

How Did Mining Maldevelop Palawan?

Much of the income generated by mining flows into the pockets of its primary shareholders, a huge chunk of which are foreign investors. Despite mining touting itself as a catalyst for community development, the benefits of its continued expansions do not go to the marginalized groups and communities that it displaced.

While companies may supply livelihoods to some displaced Palaw’an,  many hired natives become blue-collar workers assigned to laborious mine operations, which regularly expose them to open-pit workplace hazards, according to Eco. 

White-collar jobs are typically employed from Metro Manila, as the technical expertise for the specialized industries in mining is supposedly found there. Their migration to Palawan necessitates clearing up more forest space to make company-sponsored towns and limiting access for natives to obtain positions gated behind degrees. 

Outside of amenities made for employees, as much as 1.5% of operating expenses of the company are mandated to be given to affected communities in the duration of mine operations, according to the 1995 Mining Act. These Social Development and Management Program (SDMP) funds are typically audited by MGB, so the implementation of these SDMP projects is up to the discretion of these companies.

Large portions of these projects are funneled to relocation sites for displaced Palaw’an. Rows of housing complexes can be seen near the national highways. According to Eco, these units were ill-suited for the size of these families.

Most of the infrastructure development is poured into mineral export facilities, and the development of livable infrastructure is oriented to increasing the productivity of workers. As a result, these regions undergo a form of corporate paternalism, where mining companies develop schools, potable water supplies, and residential areas to create a dependency on their facilities. 

In doing so, employees are in the thrall of the whims of these companies and may be reluctant to stand against policies that harm IPs. As a result, “IP communities have been severely divided,” Anda said. 

In the pursuit of critical minerals, foreign powers continue to benefit from destructive practices, which they purport to offset through their selective development projects meant to foster dependence. In this way, environmental degradation continues to be externalized to the rest of the island.

How Does Mining Destroy IP Communities?

IP communities are intimately connected to the environment, as much of their livelihoods are dependent on agriculture and aquaculture resources. When an MPSA claims an area, however, natives who originally lived in the region get displaced to fringe, often resource-poor areas.

Regions above laterite deposits are destroyed during the extraction process, and the remaining forested spaces are guarded by hired armies,  preventing IPs from accessing their livelihoods, according to Eco. As mining companies continue to encroach near populated areas, nearby residents in Brooke’s Point also reported increased militarization of the region. These uniformed personnel are known to treat the locals harshly. Consequently, they are unable to gather Almaciga resin, honey, and rattan, which deprives them of ways to sustain themselves, said Anda.

In Brooke’s Point, coastal communities are no longer able to fish in parts of the coastline as they have been dislodged from their domains. Residents were offered predatory deals in exchange for giving up their land to mining companies to make room for export facilities, according to Dubria Mamilmar Jr., spokesperson of IP Youth Southern Palawan. 

Numerous mining operations also directly pose ecological repercussions. These include the sinking of nickel-carrying barges in 2016 by Berong Nickel Corporation, and in 2011 by RTNMC, which dumped tonnes of laterite in the ocean, endangering coral reefs and the local fishing livelihoods of IPs. The construction of the wharf and succeeding docks also resulted in the loss of coral reefs, as sediments from construction were deposited in the seafloor. This siltation rendered lobster fisheries inaccessible and partially destroyed, according to Anda.

Meanwhile, farming communities at the base of Mt. Mantalingahan near Ipilan Nickel Corporation struggle as eroded and deforested catchment sites, areas where rain collects, carry laterite run-off during strong rains. These floods trickle down toward outlying communities and pose many environmental and health risks within the region, according to Eco. The laterite sediments can be picked up as dust, resulting in respiratory diseases within and outside the mine site.

Erosion compounds existing flooding threats as well. Just last month, torrential rain coated Brooke’s Point in a reddish-brown flood, which was indicative of laterite presence. These contaminated floods are known to leech through farmland soil, lowering rice yields if not destroying them completely. This is not the first time this has happened, and local officials have shown resistance toward these companies, only to have experienced harassment in retaliation.

How Are Communities Fighting Back?

While several communities are divided, strong pockets of resistance are present within every major region in Palawan, each having its own harrowing story of mining’s destructive extractivism. After all, the 50-year moratorium was the culmination of grassroots efforts from these IPs, NGOs, as well as vocal anti-mining political figures in Palawan.

One of the earliest proponents of halting mine operations was the late Aborlan-based journalist Gerry Ortega, who had flooded local radio stations in the 2000s with his anti-mining stance, coinciding with the rise of many mining firms in the region. Since then, organized groups with anti-mining sentiments have erupted in areas with major mining firms.

This also gave rise to non-governmental organizations, prominent among which are ELAC and the Save Palawan Movement. They have continually pushed for the moratorium ever since a ban on small-scale mining was in place in 2008. 

But that previous moratorium did not include large-scale mining perpetuated by corporations. In February 2023, a barricade of protestors camped out on the roads in Brooke’s Point, preventing the passage of ore trucks in the region. These locals, who have long faced state intimidation, were protesting the possible expansion of the mining company in the region.

Apart from the mobilization of locals by IP Youth, elected barangay officials in the region also have strong anti-mining sentiments. Vice Mayor Mary Jean Feliciano, handed cease-and-desist letters to Ipilan Nickel Corp. after they were found logging areas of Mt. Mantalingahan that were protected under the NIPAS Act. The company retaliated with an Ombudsman complaint that resulted in the suspension of Feliciano from her position.

But Ipilan Nickel Corporation’s impunity would soon be met with a Supreme Court ruling that favored IP communities. On Aug. 16, 2023,  a writ of kalikasan was issued against INC and its sister company Celestial Mining, which retracted portions of their MPSA that overlapped with Mt. Mantalingahan.

Despite the 50-year mining ban now in effect, Palawan is still not in the clear. Corporations and state forces are open to pursuing their lifting, as done by administrations in the past. To counteract this, organizations and residents will remain vigilant and will pursue mobilizations should threats of ban lifting occur within the next few decades, said Anda.

Still, the large-scale mining ban is a step in the right direction, according to Anda.  The previous ban only included small-scale mining by individuals or small groups, and was pushed by decades-long sustained grassroots movements as well as local anti-mining politicians in Palawan.

Although recent developments made way for environmental justice, irreparable damage has long been done to Palawan, not only to the forests and coral reefs involved, but also to the IP communities that remain divided. The 50-year moratorium will be able to buy time for more long-term solutions to form. Such a solution should stem from the lens of affected communities, and not from destructive mining firms that would take shots at cracking mountains under the guise of development. ●

This is the first part of a series of articles about mining in Palawan.