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Constructing globalization in the Philippines : labour, land and identity on Manila’s industrializing… Kelly, Philip Francis 1997

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CONSTRUCTING GLOBALIZATION IN THE PHILIPPINES: LABOUR, LAND AND IDENTITY ON MANILA'S INDUSTRIALIZING PERIPHERY by PHILIP FRANCIS K E L L Y B.A. (Hons), Oxford University, 1991 M.A., McGill University, 1993 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (Department of Geography) We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA May 1997 © Philip Francis Kelly, May 1997 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make jt freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial" gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department of Q^JC^TO^AJ^ The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada Date DE-6 (2/88) 11 ABSTRACT 'Globalization' has become a powerful icon in academic, policy and business circles. This thesis seeks to trace some of the consequences of both the process and the idea of globalization in the Philippines. The thesis starts by arguing that theories of globalization - economic, technological, political and cultural - have invested in the process an aura of inevitability and necessity. These 'logics' of globalization, widely promulgated by both the political left and right, imply a particular construction of scale that privileges the global above all other levels of analysis. This construction has been used as a discursive legitimation of neoliberal policy prescriptions for development. In seeking to destabilize this construction of the global scale, the rest of the thesis demonstrates the ways in which global flows (particularly of capital and cultural meanings) are in fact embedded, mediated and activated in local social relations in the Philippines. This empirically-based argument starts with a brief historical account of Philippine relations with 'global space' from pre-colonial times to the present, demonstrating that the relationship has been contingent and politically contested over time and has owed as much to national level power relations as to global forces. In the last few decades, in particular, 'globalization' has been both a key material process in the Philippine economy, and an important part of the Ramos administration's legitimation of its development strategies. These have included deregulation, decentralization, trade liberalization, and encouraging foreign direct investment in export manufacturing. This investment has exhibited a spatial concentration in the core region around Manila, and particularly in the province of Cavite. Through multiple scales of analysis - provincial, municipal, village, household and individual -1 explore the ways in which experiences of 'globalized' development in Cavite and two of its villages are embedded in Ill 'local' social, economic, environmental, political and cultural processes. These experiences come principally in the form of: changing local labour markets, land conversion from agricultural to urban-industrial uses, and the reworking of cultural identities. One central argument is proposed throughout: that viewing globalization as an inevitable and unavoidable context for development is inappropriate; instead, the processes of globalization must be seen as embedded in social processes and power relations operating in particular places. This argument embodies two further points. First, that the 'places' in which globalization is embedded are at multiple scales which must be seen as interlinked and overlapping rather than distinct and hierarchical. Secondly, while globalization, and its embeddedness in places, operates as a material process, it is also a social construction and political discourse which, by locating the 'driving force' of social change at the global scale, serves to legitimize certain practices and construct a particular relationship between the 'local' and the 'global'. TABLE OF CONTENTS A B S T R A C T II L I S T O F T A B L E S V I I L I S T O F F I G U R E S V I I I L I S T O F M A P S . , • I X A C K N O W L E D G E M E N T S X C H A P T E R O N E I N T R O D U C T I O N 1 PART I - THEORY AND METHOD C H A P T E R T W O G L O B A L L O G I C S : T H E P R O D U C T I O N A N D P O L I T I C S O F S C A L E 10 2.1 INTRODUCTION 10 2.2 LOGICS OF G L O B A L I Z A T I O N 11 2.2.1 The Economic Imperative 11 2.2.2 The Technological/Informational Age 13 2.2.3 The Political/Military Realm 15 2.2.4 Global Cultures 17 2.3 T H E P R O D U C T I O N OF S C A L E 21 2.4 T H E POLITICS OF T H E G L O B A L S C A L E 23 2.5 G L O B A L I Z A T I O N A N D D E V E L O P M E N T T H E O R Y . 27 2.5.1 Modernist Paradigms 28 2.5.2 The 'Crisis' and Beyond 29 2.5.3 Perspectives on Globalization from Development Theory 34 2.6 S U M M A R Y 35 C H A P T E R T H R E E R E S E A R C H I N G G L O B A L I Z A T I O N 3 7 3.1 M O T I V A T I O N S •. 37 3.2 T H E N E T W O R K S OF K N O W L E D G E PRODUCTION 38 3.3 R E S E A R C H STRATEGIES 43 3.3.1 Secondary Sources 43 3.3.2 Interviews 44 3.3.3 Surveys 45 3.3.4 Mapping 47 3.3.5 Analysis 47 3.4 R E S E A R C H T H E M E S 47 3.5 F R O M R E S E A R C H T O WRITING 49 PART II - CONSTRUCTING GLOBALIZATION IN THE PHILIPPINES C H A P T E R F O U R C O N S T R U C T I N G A P L A C E I N T H E W O R L D : T H E P H I L I P P I N E P A S T 52 4.1 INTRODUCTION 52 4.2 T H E P R E - C O L O N I A L PHILIPPINES 54 4.3 SPANISH C O L O N I A L I S M : G A L L E O N S , G O V E R N O R S A N D GODLINESS 58 4.3.1 Trade and Production 59 4.3.2 Social Structure and Government 64 4.3.3 Religion 67 4.3.4 Gender Relations 69 V 4.3.5 The Rise of Filipino Nationalism 71 4.4 "Hi J O E " - A M E R I C A ' S C O L O N I A L E X P E R I M E N T 72 4.4.1 American Colonialism and Economic Dependence 74 4.4.2 Colonial Government and Society 75 4.4.3 Teaching Modernity 76 4.5 T H E P O S T - C O L O N I A L S T A T E 78 4.6 C O N T E M P O R A R Y PHILIPPINE D E V E L O P M E N T 87 4.7 C O N S T R U C T I N G G L O B A L IMAGINARIES 88 C H A P T E R F I V E P H I L I P P I N E I N D U S T R I A L I Z A T I O N : P O L I C Y , P E R F O R M A N C E & P L A C E 9 0 5.1 INTRODUCTION 90 5.2 T H E E M E R G E N C E OF E X P O R T - O R I E N T E D D E V E L O P M E N T 1966-86 93 5.2.1 Policies 93 5.2.2 Place Marketing 95 5.2.3 Performance 96 5.3 P O S T - M A R C O S INDUSTRIAL STRATEGIES, 1986-1996 99 5.3.1 Policies 99 5.3.2 Place Marketing. 102 5.3.3 Performance 104 5.4 SPATIAL DIMENSIONS OF G R O W T H 108 5.4.1 Regional and Urban Policies 108 5.4.2 Trends in Regional Development 112 5.5 C O N C L U S I O N 117 C H A P T E R S I X C A V I T E : C O N S T R U C T I N G A G L O B A L I Z E D P R O V I N C E 120 6.1 INTRODUCTION 120 6.2 HISTORICAL C O N T E X T 122 6.3 POLITICAL E C O N O M Y A N D L A W L E S S N E S S IN C A V I T E , 1946-72 127 6.4 T H E POLITICAL C O N T E X T OF C O N T E M P O R A R Y D E V E L O P M E N T 131 6.5 T H E P R O M O T I O N OF A PROVPNCE 133 6.6 INDUSTRIALIZATION IN C A V I T E 134 6.7 T H E L A B O U R PROCESS IN A G L O B A L I Z I N G P R O V I N C E 141 6.8 T H E POLITICS OF L A N D C O N V E R S I O N 145 6.9 POLITICS A N D P L A C E IN E C O N O M I C G L O B A L I Z A T I O N 150 PART III - LABOUR. LAND AND IDENTITY IN GLOBALIZING PLACES C H A P T E R S E V E N B A R R I O B U N G A : T H E G L O B A L I Z I N G V I L L A G E L A B O U R M A R K E T 153 7.1 INTRODUCTION 153 7.2 T H E SOCIO-ECONOMICS OF F A R M I N G 154 7.2.1 Land A cquisition and Tenancy 154 7.2.2 Crops and Cropping Patterns 158 7.2.3 The Economics of Rice 160 7.2.4 Social Divisions of Labour 167 7.3 T H E L O C A L L A B O U R M A R K E T 173 7.3.1 Background on Bunga 175 7.3.2 Overseas Work 183 7.3.3 Factory Work 184 7.4 A G R I C U L T U R E A N D L A B O U R S C A R C I T Y 190 7.4.1 Direct Seeding 190 7.4.2 Migrant Agricultural Labour 192 VI 7.4.3 The Formation of Harvesting Teams 194 7.4.4 The Use of Family Labour ; 195 7.4.5 Limiting Vegetable Cultivation 196 7.5 C O N C L U S I O N S 197 C H A P T E R E I G H T F R O M R I C E T O R E S I D E N T I A L : L A N D C O N V E R S I O N I N M U L A W I N 200 8.1 INTRODUCTION 200 8.2 B A R R I O M U L A W I N 201 8.2.1 Historical Development , 201 8.2.2 Mulawin's Economy 205 8.2.3 In-migration to Mulawin 211 8.2.4 Social and Economic Change in Mulawin 214 8.3 N E W L A N D S C A P E S 2 1 7 8.4 T H E S O C I A L C O N T E X T OF L A N D C O N V E R S I O N 220 8.5 T H E E N V I R O N M E N T A L C O N T E X T OF L A N D C O N V E R S I O N 224 8.6 F A R M I N G O N T H E U R B A N F R I N G E 228 8.7 C O N C L U S I O N ; 230 C H A P T E R N I N E G L O B A L I Z I N G C U L T U R E A N D R E F A S H I O N E D I D E N T I T I E S 232 9.1 INTRODUCTION 232 9.2 T H E O R I Z I N G G L O B A L C U L T U R E 233 9.3 T H E ' P O W E R G E O M E T R Y ' OF G L O B A L I Z A T I O N IN T A N Z A 236 9.4 SUBJECTIVITY A N D G L O B A L F L O W S 237 9.4.1 Mister, Missus and Modernity: New Gender Identities 238 9.4.2 Barkada and Big Macs: Refashioning Youth Culture 244 9.4.3 The Meaning of Work 249 9.5 C O N C L U S I O N 257 C H A P T E R T E N G L O B A L F L O W S , L O C A L R E S I S T A N C E ? 2 5 9 10.1 INTRODUCTION 2 5 9 10.2 PERCEPTIONS OF G L O B A L I Z A T I O N A N D A L T E R N A T I V E DISCOURSES 261 10.3 RESISTING T H E G L O B A L W H E N IT'S A L R E A D Y L O C A L 264 10.4 B E N E F I T S A N D A M B I V A L E N C E IN L O C A L G L O B A L I Z A T I O N 268 10.5 R E S I S T A N C E IN T A N Z A 269 10.5.1 People Power Versus the Power People: Resistance in Amaya 269 10.5.2 The Kingpin's Usurpation - Electoral Resistance in Cavite, 1995 274 10.7 C O N C L U S I O N 2 7 7 C H A P T E R E L E V E N C O N C L U S I O N 278 B I B L I O G R A P H Y 2 8 5 A P P E N D I C E S 3 0 3 vii L I S T O F T A B L E S T A B L E 1 - E M P L O Y M E N T G E N E R A T I O N IN PHILIPPINE E X P O R T PROCESSING Z O N E S , 1973-95 97 T A B L E 2 - R E G I O N A L E M P L O Y M E N T G E N E R A T I O N U N D E R I N V E S T M E N T INCENTIVE L A W S , 1981-96 113 T A B L E 3 - E M P L O Y M E N T G E N E R A T E D B Y B O I - A P P R O V E D PROJECTS IN C A L A B A R Z O N , 1991-94 114 T A B L E 4 - R E G I O N A L S H A R E S OF P U B L I C I N V E S T M E N T , 1989-92 116 T A B L E 5 - S E L E C T E D S O C I O - E C O N O M I C CHARACTERISTICS OF C A V I T E , 1970-90 135 T A B L E 6 - C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S O F C A V I T E ' S INDUSTRIAL S E C T O R , J U N E 1995 136 T A B L E 7 - C A V I T E ' S INDUSTRIAL S E C T O R B Y T Y P E OF INDUSTRY, J U N E 1995 137 T A B L E 8 - N A T I O N A L I T Y OF E Q U I T Y OWNERSHIP IN CAVITE'S INDUSTRIAL S E C T O R , J U N E 1995 138 T A B L E 9 - E M P L O Y M E N T S T R U C T U R E OF C E P Z ENTERPRISES, A P R I L 1995 139 T A B L E 10 - SPATIAL DISTRIBUTION OF C E P Z W O R K E R S B Y R E S I D E N C E , D E C E M B E R , 1994 140 T A B L E 11 - L A N D U S E IN C A V I T E , 1988 146 T A B L E 12 - L A N D C O N V E R S I O N S IN C A V I T E A P P R O V E D OR B E I N G P R O C E S S E D B Y D A R , 1988-95 146 T A B L E 13 - F A R M SIZE IN B U N G A , 1995 155 T A B L E 14 - R A I N Y S E A S O N C A S H E X P E N S E E S T I M A T E S FOR A 1 H A R I C E F A R M , 1995 164 T A B L E 15 - R A I N Y S E A S O N R I C E A C C O U N T E S T I M A T E S FOR A 1 H A F A R M , 1995 165 T A B L E 16 - S O U R C E S OF A G R I C U L T U R A L FINANCING FOR F A R M E R S IN B U N G A , 1995 166 T A B L E 17 - DISTRIBUTION OF H O U S E H O L D C H O R E S IN B U N G A B Y G E N D E R , 1995 171 T A B L E 18 - P R I M A R Y H O U S E H O L D O C C U P A T I O N B Y G E N D E R , B U N G A , 1995 180 T A B L E 19 - S E C O N D A R Y H O U S E H O L D O C C U P A T I O N S B Y G E N D E R , B U N G A , 1995 181 T A B L E 20 - T O T A L O C C U P A T I O N A L S T R U C T U R E OF B U N G A , B Y S E C T O R , 1995 182 T A B L E 21 - C U R R E N T L Y D E P L O Y E D O V E R S E A S W O R K E R S F R O M B U N G A , B Y DESTINATION, 1995 183 T A B L E 22 - C U R R E N T L Y D E P L O Y E D O V E R S E A S W O R K E R S F R O M B U N G A , B Y O C C U P A T I O N , 1995 184 T A B L E 23 - T H E E M E R G E N C E OF S A B O G UTILIZATION IN B U N G A , 1975-1995 191 T A B L E 24 - B I R T H P L A C E A N D A R R I V A L D A T E OF N O N - C A V I T E N O S IN B U N G A , 1995 193 T A B L E 25 - B I R T H P L A C E A N D O C C U P A T I O N OF N O N - C A V I T E N O S IN B U N G A , 1995 194 T A B L E 26 - P R I M A R Y H O U S E H O L D O C C U P A T I O N B Y G E N D E R , M U L A W I N , 1995 206 T A B L E 27 - S E C O N D A R Y H O U S E H O L D O C C U P A T I O N S B Y G E N D E R , M U L A W I N , 1995 207 T A B L E 28 - INDEPENDENT RESIDENTS' OCCUPATIONS, M U L A W I N , 1995 208 T A B L E 2 9 - T O T A L O C C U P A T I O N A L S T R U C T U R E OF M U L A W I N , B Y S E C T O R , 1995 209 T A B L E 30 - B I R T H P L A C E A N D A R R I V A L D A T E OF N O N - C A V I T E N O S PN M U L A W I N , 1995 211 T A B L E 31 - B I R T H P L A C E A N D O C C U P A T I O N OF N O N - C A V I T E N O S PN M U L A W P N , 1995 212 T A B L E 32 - O V E R S E A S W O R K E R S , B Y O C C U P A T I O N A N D G E N D E R , M U L A W I N , 1995 213 T A B L E 33 - O V E R S E A S W O R K E R S , B Y W O R K P L A C E A N D G E N D E R , M U L A W I N , 1995 214 T A B L E 34 - RESIDENTS OF M O N T E V E R D E SUBDIVISION, B Y B I R T H P L A C E , 1995 2 1 9 T A B L E 35 - RESIDENTS OF M O N T E V E R D E SUBDIVISION B Y O C C U P A T I O N , 1995 2 1 9 T A B L E 36 - C A R E E R P L A N S OF STUDENTS 254 T A B L E 37 - S T U D E N T S ' OPPNIONS O N F A R M P N G AS A C A R E E R OPTION, T A N Z A , 1995 255 T A B L E 38 - S T U D E N T S ' OPPNIONS O N C E P Z AS A C A R E E R OPTION, T A N Z A , 1995 255 T A B L E 39 - S T U D E N T S ' A T T I T U D E S T O W A R D S W O R K I N G A B R O A D , T A N Z A , 1995 256 viii LIST OF FIGURES FIGURE 1 - T H E ADMINISTRATIVE H I E R A R C H Y OF SPANISH COLONIALISM 66 FIGURE 2 - T H E S O C I A L / R A C I A L H I E R A R C H Y OF SPANISH COLONIALISM 66 FIGURE 3 - I N V E S T M E N T IN T H E PHILIPPINES U N D E R INCENTIVES L A W S , 1971-1994 106 FIGURE 4 - PHILIPPINE E X P O R T S A N D IMPORTS, 1966-1995 106 FIGURE 5 - PHILIPPINE T R A D E T O G D P RATIO, 1966-1995 107 FIGURE 6 - A N N U A L C H A N G E IN PHILIPPINE R E A L G D P (PERCENT ) , 1967-1996 107 FIGURE 7 - R E G I O N A L S H A R E OF PHILIPPINE G D P , 1981-1994 112 FIGURE 8 - A G E / S E X S T R U C T U R E OF B U N G A , 1995 178 FIGURE 9 - O C C U P A T I O N A L S T R U C T U R E OF W O R K I N G POPULATION IN B U N G A , 1995 182 FIGURE 10 - A G E A N D S E X S T R U C T U R E OF M U L A W I N , 1995 204 FIGURE 11 - O C C U P A T I O N A L S T R U C T U R E OF W O R K I N G POPULATION IN M U L A W I N , 1995 209 IX L I S T O F M A P S M A P 1 - T H E P H I L I P P I N E S 91 M A P 2 - C A L A B A R Z O N A R E A 92 M A P 3 - P R O V I N C E O F C A V I T E 121 M A P 4 - S K E T C H M A P O F B A R R I O B U N G A : J U N E , 1995 177 M A P 5 - S K E T C H M A P O F B A R R I O M U L A W I N : J U N E , 1995 202 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Many readers, myself included, make a habit of turning first to the acknowledgements page, anxious to discover the 'sociology' behind the work at hand, and perhaps gauge something of the author's personality. So numerous are my debts of gratitude, however, that most will be acknowledged only in the third chapter where I have written a section on the 'networks of knowledge production', rather than here in their more traditional location. I hope such readers will forgive this inconsiderate impediment, and recognize that the centrality of those acknowledged to the research process is such that they deserve a place in the body of the text. Forgiveness will also be needed from my many friends and colleagues at U B C who have contributed so much to the life surrounding this thesis over the last four years, but who are too numerous to mention individually. Some, however, do need to be singled out. Above all, Terry McGee has guided this project with his unique combination of savoir faire and joie de vivre. Terry provides a model of the scholar cum bon vivant to which the rest of us can only aspire. Among those trying are the past and present members of the 'McGlee Club,' who have provided me with much support and assistance along the way; in particular, Rex Casinader, Catherine Griffiths (who produced the maps in this thesis), Charles Greenberg, Nick Kontogeorgopoulos, Deirdre McKay, Scott MacLeod, Andrew Marton, Jean-Francois Proulx and Gisele Yasmeen. I also owe a great deal to Robyn Dowling, Martin Evans, Kris Olds, and Juliet Rowson. Finally, other members of my supervisory committee at UBC - David Ley, Geoff Hainsworth and Aprodicio Laquian - have provided support, encouragement and very prompt readings of an earlier draft. In the Philippines, my first debt is to my 'lola', Mrs. Rufina E. Solis of Tanza, who adopted me as her apo (grandson) for the duration of my fieldwork and treated me with commensurate kindness and hospitality. She made my fieldwork experience embarrassingly lacking in hardships, and I wil l always treasure my time at the Farmacia San Agustin with her family and staff. My life in Tanza, and my research, were also greatly enriched by Berna Javier and Geles Sosa, who provided diligent research assistance and good friendship. Generosity and hospitality were also extended by Romana and Eming Porcioncula, Myrna and Manny Bobadilla, Mariano Montano, Demetrio Armintia and the Colmenar family. In Manila the same can be said for Helen Mendoza, Teresa Popplewell, Fred Silao, Agnes Espano, Gary Auxilian, Emelyn Tapaoan and Dickton Rye. Institutional support was provided by the College of Public Administration at the University of the Philippines and I am grateful to Deans Proserpina Tapales and Joe Endriga, and their staff, for their kindness and support. Mayor Hermogenes Arayata of Tanza was also a gracious and helpful host. I gratefully acknowledge the financial support of a Commonwealth doctoral scholarship and fieldwork funding from the Centre for Human Settlements at U B C and the Ford Foundation through the Northwest Regional Consortium for Southeast Asian Studies. Finally, although she will object to the pretentiousness of a Latin epigram, Hayley Britton has been the sine qua non of my life during the process of researching and writing this dissertation. In a similar context four years ago I acknowledged her as my fiercest critic and best friend. Since then she has become no less fierce, equally critical, but much more than a friend. 1 CHAPTER ONE INTRODUCTION International finance knows no borders.... we cannot stop globalization, we need to adjust to it... Globalization is imposing a healthy discipline that will result in healthier economies in the long run. Jean Chretien1 The determining context of economic policy is the new global market. That imposes huge limitations of a practical nature - quite apart from reasons ofprinciple - on macroeconomic policies. Tony Blair 2 There is a new reality that underscores our national life. We are part of a new global economy -in which every nation must compete, if it is to prosper. [We must] imbibe and expand the culture of globalization... [or] be left behind in the march toward progress and prosperity for all. Fidel Ramos3 The leaders quoted above represent political parties of diverse ideological stripes, and they govern in strikingly different political, economic and cultural contexts. Yet each employs a common rhetoric based on assumptions about a process or phenomenon called globalization. A l l three politicians (and many more like them) represent globalization as inevitable and inexorable -a fact of life, a contemporary political reality. Globalization is, furthermore, seen as a healthy and progressive influence on national economies and cultures. It is these assumptions that this thesis seeks to question. The process of globalization is usually taken to mean the increasing porosity of physical and social barriers to world-wide flows of capital, goods, people, ideas, imagery and institutions.4 It is found in the flows of capital between the world's financial centres ('hot money'), and in flows of foreign direct investment.5 It is found in the transfer of goods and services across global space 1 Jean Chretien, Prime Minister of Canada, quoted in the Globe and Mail, 20th May 1996. 2 Tony Blair, Leader of the British Labour Party, quoted in Saul, 1995, 19. 3 Quotes drawn from President Fidel Ramos' speeches on a Philippine government internet site:; and 'Ramos thanks senators for summit support', Philippine Daily Inquirer, December 3rd, 1996,2. 4 Appadurai's (1990) five 'scapes' - finanscapes, ethnoscapes, mediascapes, ideoscapes and technoscapes - which refer to accelerating international flows of capital, people, images, ideas amd technologies, are widely cited as capturing the multiple dimensions of what is termed globalization. 5 Empirical examples are provided in books such as Corbridge, Thrift and Martin (1993), and Dicken (1992). 2 - from Coca-Cola to coconuts and from microchips to missiles. It is found in the passage of people between places - tourists, refugees, migrants, and contract workers. It is found in the ideas and information that pass freely, or sometimes not so freely, across space - everything from environmentalism and human rights to neoliberalism and organised religion. It is found in the imagery to which many are exposed -Hollywood, high fashion, and hard rock. Finally, it is found in the political institutions that bring together sovereign territories into broader frameworks: the World Trade Organization, the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund. There are two reasons why such flows, none of which are new, have received increasing attention in the 1990s.6 First, we are told, the geopolitical context has shifted from a bi-polar world of competing ideologies and spheres of political influence to one of a triumphant market system and liberal democratic ideals. The Cold War has been 'won' and the world is being drawn into a logic of political and economic liberalization, freed from the dogmatic agendas of dirigiste regimes. Secondly, technological change has facilitated many of the flows described above. Telecommunications, containerization, air travel and computer linkages have created a period of time-space compression in which distant places can be materially and virtually connected far more easily and economically. This has allowed an acceleration and increased volume in flows which already existed, and the emergence of new flows (Castells, 1996; Harvey, 1989). A l l of this has brought a popular representation of globalization and especially economic globalization as the determining context for action, and one to which individual governments (and other institutions) must open themselves and adjust. The assumption is that allowing such flows to pass free and unhindered between places in the world will ultimately be unequivocally beneficial for all concerned. It is a belief that finds its roots in the classical political economy of David Ricardo and is now widely promulgated by the 'gurus' of globalization. Kenichi Ohmae, for example, talks of "putting global logic first", and provides a stark choice: "If a country genuinely opens itself up to the global system, prosperity will follow. If it does not, or i f it does 6 This is as true of academia as it is of politics - simply searching the UBC library catalogue in February 1997 for books with 'globalization' in the title yields 139 texts, less than a dozen of which were published before 1990. 3 so only halfheartedly, relying instead on the heavy, guiding hand of central government, its progress will falter" (Ohmae, 1995a: 123). Implicit in Ohmae's argument are two fundamental assertions: first, that the globalization of economic activities is inevitable and inexorable; and secondly that only complete compliance with the requirements of global capital will bring prosperity to any particular place. This is the context in which politicians and policy-makers concerned with economic development currently operate. It is, furthermore, a view that is represented as objective and apolitical. John Naisbitt, another guru of global business strategy, argues that with free trade and economic liberalization, "ideology is giving way to economic and political reality" (1995: 121) In the chapters ahead, I will explore this discourse of globalization, but the empirical focus of the research is deliberately more parochial. The national context for the study is the Philippines, a country that is no stranger to 'global' influences after centuries of contact with traders, proselytizers, colonizers and creditors.7 While this history will be discussed in some detail, the principal period of interest will be the last ten years of Philippine development (1986-1996). It is during this time, and especially over the course of the Ramos administration since 1992, that 'globalization' has been both a key feature of the Philippine economy, and an important part of the administration's legitimation of its development strategies. While the national scale provides one context for the empirical research presented here, the consequences of national development strategies are traced to the scale of a province (Cavite), a municipality (Tanza), and two villages (Bunga and Mulawin), where the bulk of my fieldwork was conducted. Cavite is located immediately south of Metropolitan Manila and has seen a substantial share of the foreign investment in the country over the last few years. The result has been a booming manufacturing sector and a vibrant land market as Manila's agricultural hinterland is converted to industrial estates and residential subdivisions. Tanza, for 7 This obviously applies more broadly that just the Philippine case. It is worth noting that 'globalization', if it is taken to mean social relations operating across world space, has been intensified rather than created over recent years. Writers such as Janet Abu-Lughod (1989), Eric Wolf (1982) and Immanuel Wallerstein (1980) have clearly shown that economic and cultural relations across large parts of the world have existed for many centuries. 4 example, located southwest of the metropolis along Manila Bay, was a small, rice-growing market town with a population of just 43,657 in 1980. By 1995 it had far exceeded its 1990 census population of 61,785 (National Statistics Office, 1990). Much of this growth has been driven by migrants arriving to work at new factories in the Cavite Export Processing Zone (referred to throughout as CEPZ) in the neighbouring town of Rosario. In 1995, Tanza contributed over 6,000 workers to factories on the sprawling 275 hectare industrial estate. In total, the CEPZ employed close to 40,000 workers in 1995, and had been joined by many other industrial estates across the province. Tanza, then, like many other towns in Cavite, has experienced the process of globalization through the location of foreign-owned, export-oriented manufacturing facilities. The consequences for such towns have been major structural changes in local labour markets and the rapid conversion of agricultural land to industrial estates, residential subdivisions, golf courses and other 'urban' land uses. In a town like Tanza, then, it would seem that the transformative effect of globalization should be clearly manifested. These processes occurring in Tanza could, however, be interpreted through many intellectual lenses. As a process of urbanization, the changes could be seen as illustrative of the desakota phenomenon. The desakotasi process refers to the way in which the transactional environments of Asian primate cities create the conditions for extended 'urban' areas with dense populations and mixed urban, industrial, leisure and agricultural land uses (McGee, 1991; McGee and Greenberg, 1992; Greenberg, 1994). Equally, Tanza and its neighbouring municipalities could be interpreted within a modernization paradigm as a case study of industrial development responding to the appropriate government policies to stimulate growth, and a socialization of the rural workforce into the regime of factory employment (Ong, 1987; Torres, 1988). Alternatively, the rich literature in peasant studies and rural industrialization could be used to interpret Tanza as a case of agrarian change in response to shifts in the markets for land and labour (Brookfield et al., 1991; McAndrew, 1994). To some extent all of these approaches are drawn upon in this thesis, but my central theme revolves around the issue of globalization and how it is both constructed and experienced in a particular locality. I believe 5 this is important precisely because it is globalization that is used politically to legitimize and explain what is happening in Tanza and elsewhere in the Philippines. The imperatives of global competition and a globalizing context for development have been a central part of the Ramos administration's strategy for national development. They have been used to justify deregulation, decentralization, and liberalization, and to allow foreign direct investment in infrastructure, export manufacturing and service industries. It is these policies that have provided the national and provincial context for socioeconomic transformation in Tanza, and thus it is important to explore their discursive roots and material consequences. The principal theme addressed in this thesis revolves around how the process of globalization is constructed and experienced in particular places. The central question, then, that guides this inquiry is: how do social processes (economic, political, cultural and environmental), embedded in place, mediate and construct a particular experience of globalization?* In order to address this question, several further arguments must be disentangled from it. Firstly, the 'places' in which globalization is embedded are at many different scales - national, regional, provincial, municipal, village, household and individual. These scales cannot be seen as distinct and hierarchical, with social processes at one scale determinant over another. Instead, they are simultaneously interlinked and overlapping. The global exists only in multiple 'locals' and the local and the global are not 'natural' and distinct scales of analysis, but are instead mutually constitutive of each other. To argue this point it will be necessary to show that the way in which globalization is experienced is fundamentally a product of social processes operating across a variety of scales. 8 The concept of embeddedness originates in work on the sociology of economic institutions (Granovetter, 1985). Granovetter defines embeddedness as the argument that "behaviour and institutions [of economic action]... are so constrained by ongoing social relations that to construe them as independent is a grievous misunderstanding" (1985, 482). In recent years this point of view has been influential in economic geography through institutionalist and network approaches to economic entities (Thrift and Olds, 1996; Dicken and Thrift, 1992, Yeung, 1994; Amin and Thrift, 1994). More generally, a concern with the embeddedness of economic change in local social relations can be identified in Doreen Massey's work on spatial divisions of labour (1984, 1994), the 'localities' research that it later inspired, and in other non-essentialist theories of economic geography (Barnes, 1996). 6 Secondly, while globalization, and its embeddedness in places, operates as a material process based on time-space compression, it is also a social construction and political discourse.9 In other words, globalization is both a real phenomenon that is experienced by people in the Philippines, but it is also an idea that carries with it powerful implications for the geography, experience and social justice of development. As a political discourse, globalization serves to legitimize certain practices and construct a particular relationship between 'global spaces' and 'local places'. Thus the material processes of globalization create a discursive frame around them, but equally, material processes are called into being by the discourse that constructs them. This means that appeals to 'embrace' globalization as inevitable and unavoidable are not the realism that their rhetoric implies, but rather political judgements that can be deconstructed. These two key points, then, will guide the material presented in this thesis: that globalization is a material process embedded in the social relations of particular places across multiple scales; and, that globalization can be seen as a social construction that has been deployed for political purposes. The thesis explores these issues in the following way. Part I is entitled 'Theory and Method'; it begins with an elaboration in chapter 2 of the theoretical themes, sketched in brief above, that inform the later presentation of empirical material. The chapter reviews a number of theoretical accounts of globalization, presented as global 'logics', which have been the basis for much of the academic discussion of globalization. I will argue, however, that such attempts to come to terms with the material processes of globalization are limiting in two respects. Firstly, they locate the 'driving force' of social change as residing at the global scale, rather than embedded in local contexts where political choices could be, and are, made. 9 A discourse is a set of assumptions, models, knowledge and language through which the world is represented and imagined. Discourse provides us with the means to render objects and relationships meaningful and significant - "the social framework of intelligibility within which practices are communicated and negotiated" (Duncan, 1993: 233). J.M.Keynes famously noted that "the ideas of economists and political philosophers, both when they are right and when they are wrong, are more powerful than is commonly understood" (cited in Agnew and Corbridge, 1995: 196-7). The idea of discourse incorporates two extensions to Keynes' insight. Firstly, it includes not just the theories and models that are translated into power relations, but also the whole way of thinking that allows certain models to be imaginable. Secondly, in the post-structuralist ontology of discourse theory, a discourse is neither 'right' nor 'wrong', but is inevitably implicated in relations of power. The application of post-structuralist discourse theory to development studies will be reviewed in chapter 2. 7 Secondly, in prioritizing the global scale in this way, they feed directly into a construction of scale that has political implications. This construction of scale forms the basis for development policies predicated on free trade and regulatory liberalization. These policies, and the discussion of globalization, will then be placed in the context of development theory as it has unfolded over recent decades. Before the thesis moves on to explore how this political construction of scale has been operationalized in the Philippines, chapter 3 discusses some of the issues and methodologies involved in researching globalization. In particular, I argue that global research is ethically necessary and I describe the logistics and techniques used in gathering data for this thesis. Part II is entitled 'Constructing Globalization in the Philippines' and it is largely here that I pursue the second point made above, concerning the constructed and political nature of globalization discourse. Chapter 4 starts this argument by tracing the historical roots of Philippine relations with 'global space' from pre-colonial times to the present. The account shows that this relationship has been contingent and politically contested over time and has owed as much to domestic power relations as to global forces. In making this point, the chapter also lays out some of the historical roots of the social, economic and cultural structures that will later be shown to form the place-based context in which contemporary globalization is embedded. Chapter 5 describes this contemporary formulation of globalization in the Philippine political economy and the ways in which it has been translated into economic development policies and spatial patterns of growth over the last three decades. In it is in chapter 5, then, that the national scale politics of globalization are explored. Like chapters 4 and 5, chapter 6 explores the historical roots and contemporary constructions of globalized development, but this time at a provincial scale in Cavite, where fieldwork for this thesis was conducted. The chapter shows that the social processes in which globalized development is embedded are also constituted at a sub-national scale. A n understanding of Cavite's historically-rooted system of power relations is essential in understanding contemporary experiences of globalization. In particular, these relations are explored for two processes which represent the principal means through which 8 material globalization affects the lives of Cavitenos: the transformation of local labour markets and the conversion of agricultural land to urban uses. Together, chapters 4, 5 and 6 aim to substantiate the argument that globalization must be viewed as simultaneously both a material process and a political discourse. At the same time, they point to the embeddedness of the material processes of globalization in national and provincial power relations. Part III of the thesis is entitled 'Labour, Land and Identity in Globalizing Places'. The scale of analysis is reduced still further to the level of the village, the household and the individual, and again evidence is presented to suggest that globalization as a material process is embedded in the particularities of places, which are constituted at various scales. Chapters 7 and 8 make this point with data on the two key dimensions of globalization identified for Cavite: the transformation of local labour markets, and the conversion of agricultural land to residential and industrial uses. Chapter 7 shows how the specificity of the local economy shapes the way in which globalized development is experienced, and brings distinctive responses to changes in the local labour market. Chapter 8 argues that land use conversion can only be understood in the context of local social, political and ecological processes. Chapter 9 examines the cultural dimensions of globalization. Based on discussions of the changing cultural significance of gender, youth and work, the chapter argues that the economic and cultural dimensions of globalization cannot be divorced and that cultural change is a reflexive process of hybridization between existing meanings of gender, youth and work, and the new horizons offered by globalization. Part III is concluded in chapter 10 which considers what the embeddedness of globalization might mean for 'local' resistance to the 'global'. I argue that given the evidence of locally constituted experiences of globalization, to talk of'local' resistance is meaningless, since the globalization process itself is already local. Chapter 11, the conclusion to the thesis, briefly draws together the main themes that have been addressed and returns to the arguments outlined in this introduction. PARTI THEORY AND METHOD 10 CHAPTER TWO GLOBAL LOGICS: THE PRODUCTION AND POLITICS OF SCALE 2.1 Introduction Chapter 1 briefly outlined two key points regarding the process of globalization: first, that as a process operating at multiple scales it is significantly mediated by embedded social relations in particular places; and secondly, that as both a material and ideological process it shapes a political discourse. In this chapter, I will elaborate on these points at a theoretical level before they are explored empirically. The first section of the chapter addresses what I have called the 'logics' of globalization. Here I will outline some of the theoretical frameworks that indicate the various dimensions of the globalization process. These theoretical constructions provide some explanations of the material processes which are usually included under the rubric of globalization. At the same time, they illustrate the way in which the global has been discursively constructed in the academic literature as having a logic of its own. In the second section, I discuss recent literature on the production of scale to suggest that these 'logics' of globalization can be viewed as social constructions of scale, rather than providing objective divisions of space or a priori levels of analysis. This forms the basis for arguing that 'globalization' must be seen as a process that operates at multiple scales and is therefore embedded in place-specific social relations. The third section of the chapter argues that the social construction of scale must also be seen as political because it has been used to legitimize a neoliberal approach to economic development. It is in this sense that I will later refer to the political discourse of globalization that is deployed at national and provincial scales. Finally, the chapter enters a brief detour into development theory in order to locate my approach within that literature. 11 2.2 Logics of Globalization Talking of globalization implies certain universalities of process and experience which bind together people located in diverse parts of the world (McGrew, 1992). In this section, I will lay out some of these universals by describing the frameworks that have been used to understand the processes of globalization. In particular, I will focus on the underlying structural causations to which they appeal. Presenting the selected authors in this way is not to suggest that they hold narrowly conceived views of globalization - on the contrary, it is the richness of their accounts that has made them so influential. But each account is distinguished by a different logic which is seen to be determinative of globalization - some with a greater degree of essentialism than others. 2.2.1 The Economic Imperative Many theories of globalization are ultimately rooted in an understanding of the logics of the capitalist mode of production. The most authoritative and influential voice within geography on this matter is David Harvey, through his ongoing project to develop a spatialized marxism, or historical geographical materialism. Harvey's argument is based on the profit-seeking imperative of capitalism, which leads to three fundamental characteristics of the mode of production: 1) it is growth-oriented in terms of output and value; 2) growth in real values rests upon the exploitation of living labour in production; and, 3) it is technologically and organizationally dynamic in the search for profit (Harvey, 1989a, 180). Arguing that these imperatives are ultimately contradictory, it was Marx's insight that capitalism is prone to periodic crises of overaccumulation, and Harvey shows that there are certain systemic choices available to manage these crises. These choices consist of: devaluing commodities, productive capacities, or money; crisis containment through macro-economic control (as in the Fordist-Keynesian regime); and, the temporal and/or spatial displacement of overaccumulation. It is in this last set of options that Harvey sees the most promise and the clearest geographical implications (Harvey, 1982). Temporal displacement is conducted through 12 the investment of resources in future needs or the acceleration of the turnover time of capital, while spatial displacement entails the creation of new spaces for capitalist production across the globe. The two might also be combined in time-space displacement, where capital flows are diverted to new spaces to build infrastrusture or capital equipment for future output and productivity (this would, for example, be the structuralist explanation for investment flows to Latin America and Asia after the crisis of global capitalism in the 1970s) (Corbridge, 1993c). For Harvey, these are the structural processes which underpin the 'time-space compression' characterizing the condition of postmodernity from the early 1970s to the present. As the Fordist regime of national economic regulation broke down in the industrialized core, so strategies of time-space displacement drew the global periphery ever more closely into the world economy. Harvey concludes that i f there is anything distinctive about the current nature of capitalism it is to be found in its financial flows and the role of credit, and, i f there is to be any stability in the current regime of accumulation, it will derive from further rounds of temporal and spatial "fixes" (Harvey, 1989a, 196). While Harvey's historical-geographical materialism, and the Regulation School from which it draws much of its vocabulary, focus on social relations in capitalist production to derive their theories, other approaches lay greater emphasis on relationships of exchange. These include many classics in the development literature, such as Frank's development of underdevelopment, Emmanuel's unequal exchange, and Amin's accumulation on a world scale. The place of these authors within the broader context of development studies will be discussed later in this chapter, but clearly, like Harvey, much of radical development theory also identifies the economic imperative as the driving logic behind globalization. While these radical theorists all retain a certain antipathy for globalization and its consequences, at the opposite end of the political spectrum are the 'business gurus', such as Kenichi Ohmae (1995b) and John Naisbitt (1995), mentioned in chapter 1. While they seldom rehearse theoretical arguments, the work of such authors is rooted in the neoliberal economics of Johnson, Friedman, and Bauer, and latterly writers such as Krueger. These economists argue that 13 any government 'interference' in the market mechanism is inefficient and counter-productive. Their positions are based on a critique of the Keynesian model of demand management and they seek to replace it with a monetarist analysis of the causal mechanisms for economic growth together with assumptions about economic rationality and the universality of economic theory. Globalization fits neatly into this paradigm, as it allows for the construction of a universalised economic subject and the denigration of the role of the nation state in economic management. The emergence of this school of thought will be placed in the context of the development literature later in the chapter. 2.2.2 The Technological/Informational Age To separate a technological 'logic' from economic imperatives is in some ways a misrepresentation, but the distinction is worth making because a number of writers strongly emphasize the importance of technological change in creating and facilitating both economic and cultural flows around the world. The most notable proponent of this view is Manuel Castells. According to Castells, a new technological paradigm emerged in the two decades between the late 1960s and the late 1980s. The scientific and technical core of this paradigm lies in microelectronics, but it also includes the application of these technologies to telecommunications and biotechnology (Castells, 1989, 12; 1996). The key feature of Castells' new paradigm is that these technologies are based on information processing - information becomes a raw material and an economic output: Because processes, unlike products, enter into all spheres of human activity, their transformation by such technologies, focusing on omnipresent flows of information, leads to modification in the material basis of the entire social organization. Thus, new information technologies are transforming the way we produce, consume, manage, live, and die; not by themselves, certainly, but as powerful mediators of the broader set of factors that determine human behaviour and social organization. (1989,15) It is the interaction and articulation between the informational mode of development and the restructuring of capitalism that creates the framework shaping the dynamics of our society and our space (1989, 28) 14 Castells sees the complex interacting system of technological and organizational processes in production as underlying economic growth and social change, and constituting a 'mode of development' (Castells, 1989, 17). It is this mode of development that has switched from industrial to informational, and which, in interaction with restructured capitalism, leads to new, globalized, spatial forms: "...[WJhat is new is the increasing interpenetration of all economic processes at the international level with the system working as a unit, worldwide in real time" (1989, 26). In his account of the reformulation of capitalism, Castells follows the same crisis-resolution argument as Harvey. The point at which Castells diverges from Harvey, however, is in seeing technological change and the informational mode of development not as responses to crisis but as historically coincident with capitalist restructuring: Advances in telecommunications, flexible manufacturing that allows simultaneously for standardization and customization, and new transportation technologies emerging from the use of computers and new materials, have created the material infrastructure for the world economy, as the construction of the railway system provided the basis for the formation of national markets in the nineteenth century. (1989, 30) The corollary for Castells is the emergence of a space of flows dominating the historically constructed space of places through the "powerful medium of information technologies" (1989, 6) Castells' theorization finds parallels in works focusing on the nature of 'post-industrialism' and its spatial manifestations. The key dynamics in post-industrialism are technological and organizational dynamism in production, which facilitates the global reach of economic and cultural flows (Lash and Urry, 1987). Lash and Urry (1994) have pursued their analysis of economic restructuring to suggest that 'disorganized capitalism' leads to 'reflexive accumulation': We propose...that there is indeed a structural basis for today's reflexive individuals. And that this is not social structures, but increasingly the pervasion of information and communication structures. We propose that there is tendentially the beginnings of the 15 unfolding of a process in which social structures, national in scope, are being displaced by such global information and communication (I & C) structures. (Lash and Urry, 1994: 6-7, emphasis in original) Lash and Urry's disorganized capitalism is controlled from core regions - the key nodal cities in the global cultural economy. They form the hub of sign production and information generation, constituting the "information-soaked and service-rich, communications-laden core of the post-organized capitalist economic order" (1994, 28). Broadly speaking, arguments based on informational and organizational logics of globalization also find equivalents in orthodox economic theory (Piore and Sabel, 1984). Castells' locus of analysis in the firm and the technological advances in production and producer services sits easily with concerns of neoliberal economics revolving around the changing nature of the firm and global corporate strategy. 2.2.3 The Political/Military Realm Anthony Giddens' account of globalization is distinct from those described above, as he accords a certain autonomy to political institutions from economic control. For Giddens (1990, 1991), the process of globalization is a direct consequence of modernity, and modernity has four central characteristics: capitalism, industrialism, surveillance, and state control over the means of violence. The process of modernization, starting in the eighteenth century, involves three changes in the way in which social life is experienced (and, following Giddens' ideas of structuration, the experience of individual agents is reflexively linked with social change). The first change is the distanciation, meaning separation, of time from space. From diurnal and seasonal rhythms, time became standardized and universalized in the eighteenth century through the mechanical clock. Similarly, space was no longer an experientially perceived space, but could also be universalized in maps. These developments allowed the universalization of human activities across spatial and temporal distances. A second change associated with modernity is the 'disembedding' of social relations from local contexts, through 'symbolic tokens' (particularly 16 money) and 'expert systems' (for example, technical knowledge). An awareness of the role played by information and knowledge, and the risk involved in trusting expert systems, make modern individuals, according to Giddens, particularly reflexive in a way that human subjects have not been in the past. Giddens' three characteristics of modernization - time-space distanciation, disembedding, and reflexivity - promote universalizing tendencies that render social relationships across space more inclusive, thereby allowing globalization of social interaction. This is the basis upon which Giddens can proceed to explain the current trends of globalization in terms of his dimensions of modernity (capitalism, surveillance, military order, and industrialism). Capitalism has constructed a world system, as discussed by Wallerstein (1974), incorporating the globe into a single market for commodities, labour and capital. Surveillance has also been globalized by international organizations of nation-states. Military globalization is incorporated into the 'global' alliance system (and, after Giddens wrote, into a so-called "New World Order" focused on the U N Security Council) (Waters, 1995). Finally, the globalization of production involves the spread of industrialism and diffusion of technology around the globe and the incorporation of local production systems and labour markets into the international division of labour. In short, Giddens provides a multi-dimensional explanatory framework for understanding globalization processes, but the main thrust of his argument seeks to balance the economistic theories of writers such as Wallerstein with a consideration of the role of the nation-state and military/political order in generating globalized structures and subjectivities. is surely plain to all, save those under the sway of historical materialism, that the material involvements of nation-states are not governed purely by economic considerations, real or perceived (1990, 72) If capitalism was one of the great institutional elements promoting the acceleration and expansion of modern institutions, the other was the nation state. Nation states, and the national-state system, cannot be explained in terms of the rise of capitalistic enterprise, however convergent the interests of states and capitalistic prosperity have sometimes been (1990, 62). 17 Other writers have identified the political roots of globalization in the need for a liberal hegemonic power to assure a world order in which global interconnectedness is secure and viable. The implication is that "globalization is shaped primarily by a political logic: the rise and decline of hegemonic powers in the inter-state system" (McGrew, 1992, 72). Further elements of a globalizing polity might also be mentioned, for example, the networks of non-governmental organizations based on issues such as environmentalism and feminism which are clearly global in scope. The recent gatherings of such organizations around governmental conferences on the environment in Rio de Janeiro in 1992, and on womens' issues in Beijing in 1995, illustrate the globalization of these issues in a public sphere beyond national boundaries (see, for example, Fisher, 1993). 2.2.4 Global Cultures Discussing cultural globalization separately is not to suggest that other accounts neglect the issue. The cultural consequences and processes of capitalist restructuring, for example, are central to Harvey's (1989a) work on postmodernity. Many other accounts, grounded in political economy, draw on a theme of'cultural imperialism' (Tomlinson, 1991), suggesting that 'local' cultures are overcome and eliminated through the proliferation of consumer goods and advertising images emanating from a Western, usually American, heartland. Armstrong and McGee (1985,49), for example, detect a process of "convergence" of consumption patterns in Third World cities, focused on primate cities as 'theatres of accumulation' and 'centres of cultural diffusion'. Elsewhere, McGee (1985) writes of "mass markets... invading and destroying 'little markets'" (1985, 227). Several writers suggest that transnational corporations are heavily implicated in these trends through strategies of advertising and market control (Jenkins, 1988; Dannhaeuser, 1987; Wimberley, 1991; Wimberley and Bello, 1992). Notwithstanding these accounts, it is worth distinguishing cultural logics of globalization since many authors, particularly those that would identify with the paradigm of 'cultural studies', 18 resist the tendency to subsume culture into an economic or informational logic. The work of these authors is considerably more difficult to characterize as a global logic since many dispute the existence of a system in the structuralist sense (Robertson, 1992, 45-46). There is, however, a 'logic of flows' identifiable in the work of cultural theorists and global sociologists (Featherstone and Lash, 1995, 23). In this section I will discuss two approaches to the global logic of culture, one emphasizing the role of the imaginary and its construction at a planetary scale, the other concentrating on the role of human agency in the global spread of common cultural meanings and significations. Sociologist Roland Robertson exemplifies the view that globalization is a product of the social imaginary, such that "there is a general autonomy and 'logic' to the globalization process -which operates in relative independence of strictly societal and other more conventionally studied sociocultural processes" (Robertson, 1990: 28). Robertson provides a two-part definition of globalization as: "the compression of the world and the intensification of consciousness of the world as a whole" (1992, 8). While the first part of this definition shares common ground with the likes of Harvey and world systems theorists, Robertson chooses to distinguish his position by emphasizing the rise of global consciousness, through a variety of events and institutions: ...conceptions of the world-system, including symbolic responses to and interpretations of globalization, are themselves important factors in determining the trajectories of that very process. (Robertson, 1992, 61) Robertson sees reflexivity and relativization (that is, the way we conceive of ourselves and the world in relation to each other) as central to the process of globalization. This global relativization occurs in four spheres: the self, national society, the world system of societies, and, humankind (1992, 27). Between each sphere, Robertson sees a 'universalization of particularisms' where, for example, individuals or national societies become conscious of their place in broader spheres, thereby allowing increasing interaction. A second element is the particularization of universals' meaning that global flows are adapted and indigenized in specific contexts. 19 In focusing on reflexivity, particularly in relation to the nation state, Robertson's account has much in common with that of Giddens. But while Giddens considers this reflexivity and self-consciousness to be a component of modernization and therefore a necessary precursor to globalization, Robertson sees it as the defining characteristic of globalization. Robertson's ideas finds considerable resonance in Arjun Appadurai's (1990) influential work on global flows. Appadurai too focuses on the role of the human agent and the social imaginary in constituting globalization by identifying five sets of flows, or 'landscapes' (based on people, finance, technology, media and ideas). He emphasizes that: the individual actor is the last locus of this perspectival set of landscapes, for these . landscapes are eventually navigated by agents who both experience and constitute larger formations, in part by their own sense of what these landscapes offer. These landscapes thus, are the building blocks of what...I would like to call 'imagined worlds', that is, the multiple worlds which are constituted by the historically situated imaginations of persons and groups spread around the globe (Appadurai, 1990, 296-7). Appadurai's work clearly leaves space for theorizing these flows, for example through Harvey's account of financial flows, but as Buell notes, he sees the social imaginary as the constitutive logic of globalization: ...the imagination is no longer the superstructure of an economic base; it has become equally determinative with economic factors in a world that is now 'a complex transnational construction of imaginary landscapes'. In this world, imagination no longer represents transcendence or escape, but is crucial - indeed, the most crucial - form of social construction, of productive work. (Buell, 1994:314; cited in Olds, 1995: 40) A second, and more systemic, way of viewing globalization in a cultural register is to focus on the actors and agents involved in the production and diffusion of'global cultures'. Thus for Friedman, "in global terms, the culturalization of the world is about how a certain group of professionals located at central positions identify the larger world and order it according to a central scheme of things" (Friedman, 1995, 82). In this way, what Friedman criticizes as Robertson's overly "mental and semantic" approach is recast by situating actors in their political and economic contexts (Friedman, 1995, 72). 20 Several writers, particularly those concerned with 'culture industries', have pursued Friedman's point about a system of agency. Some focus just on a small elite cadre of 'cosmopolitans' (Hannerz, 1990) or 'third cultures' (Featherstone, 1990, 7), such as diplomats, financiers, academics, aid officials, and media representatives, who act as cultural intermediaries. These groups, according to Featherstone, are establishing "sets of practices, bodies of knowledge, conventions and lifestyles" increasingly independent of national origins (Featherstone, 1995, 114). Others, however, engage more broadly with the role of individuals involved in generating a globalized set of'signs'. These actors, operating in sectors such as advertising, music, tourism, publishing, design and the media represent the 'tendential' beginnings of a process in which information, communication and signs form the building blocks of what Lash and Urry (1994) call 'economies of signs and space'. In this world a 'logic of flows' replaces a 'logic of organizations' (Featherstone and Lash, 1995, 23). Several studies pursue these ideas in empirical detail. Olds (1995), for example, traces the role of internationally renowned architects - the so-called Global Intelligence Corps - based in centres such as Paris and London, in the creation of new urban landscapes in Shanghai. Leslie (1995) traces the globalization of advertising agencies and their use of the 'global' in marketing campaigns - the United Colours of Benetton, for example, or Coca-Cola's desire to 'teach the world to sing'. The globalization of signs is not, of course, the same as the globalization of meaning (Friedman, 1995, 86). It is clearly unlikely that these signs are received and made meaningful in the same way in different places. But the raw materials of identity formation - the foundations of Robertson's globalized consciousness - are being dispersed even if they are incorporated into contexts devoid of their original referents, for example in Tobin's account of Japanese 'domesticating the West' (Tobin, 1992). In this way, both the 'globalization of consciousness' and the 'culture industries' approach provide a sense of how globalization might be seen to have a cultural logic. There is something irreversible and cumulative about the formation of reflexive consciousness, based on the postmodern cultural economy of signs. 21 2.3 The Production of Scale The logics of globalization provide a foundation for believing that the world is moving unavoidably towards ever greater interconnection. They suggest that in various spheres -economic, technological, political and cultural - all peoples and places are being inexorably manoeuvered into a globalized frame. Here I will argue that far from being an inexorable logic, this is in fact a social construction of the global scale that imbues it with determinative influence. When we talk of globalization, global logics and the global system we seldom stop to question what is implicitly understood as being the global scale. The same is true, as Neil Smith points out, when we talk of national, regional, local, household and even bodily scales (Smith, 1992a, 1993). The implicit assumption is that the spaces being referred to are understood and the discussion can proceed to the more interesting questions concerning social processes at, and between, these scales. But we only need to think about individual events to realize that to understand something at any given scale - to prioritize one scale above others - is a rather arbitrary and perhaps devious tactic. Consider, for example, the widespread representation by governments around the world of war and suppression in East Timor as a 'local issue', while Iraq's incursions into its neighbours became a 'global crisis'. In each case, the construction of the scale at which these events are explained reflects specific sets of economic and geopolitical interests. The key process is the production of scale, the creation of a level of resolution at which phenomena are deemed understandable. To take another example, industrial growth in East Asia might be explained in terms of a 'Confucian' culture of individual entrepreneurialism and hard work (the scale of the body), the proactive role of the state in directing growth (the national scale), or, the operation of free market forces and open trading relationships (the global scale). Each scale provides a quite different perspective on the issue and a different set of political judgements. The notion of the production, and the politics, of scale has been explored by Neil Smith over the last few years (1992a, 1992b, 1993, 1996; Smith and Katz, 1993). This work draws on 22 ideas of the production of space (Lefebvre, 1991; Harvey, 1989a, 1990), and on notions of metaphor in geographical theory (see Barnes, 1996). The production of scale is metaphorical in the sense that something 'known' is employed to explain and understand something else - usually something new. To locate the explanation for a phenomenon in a particular scale is frequently to substitute a spatial scale for social relations. For example, the expression 'urban problems' is not a literal description of homelessness, poverty, crime etc., but a metaphor in which the scale of the city is employed to produce an explanatory discourse of such issues. Scale metaphors might also be more specific, for example the metaphor of the 'Pacific Rim', which has usurped categories such as Third World-First World, Developed-Developing and North-South in recent public discourse in parts of that 'region' (Woodside, 1993; Cumings, 1993; Forbes, 1993). The Pacific Rim is metaphorical in the sense that it produces a scale at which common interests can be constructed. Such a metaphor is more than just academic: it sets agendas, shapes policy, and implies a "new ecumenism" for a post-colonial, post-Cold War, investment-oriented era (Nonini, 1993, 176). Furthermore, scale can be constructed when social processes experienced at one scale are explained with reference to another. Thus, for example, in current neoliberal economic discourse the global scale (of emerging markets, competitive advantage etc.) is deployed as the scale of explanation at which auto factory closures in Detroit, Ontario or Oxford are understood and explained. Conversely, the body (as lazy, slothful, indolent) was frequently the colonial rationalization for poverty in the tropics. Social processes at one scale thus substitute for relations that actually operate at many scales. Globalization discourse also incorporates metaphors of a more explicit kind, which try to capture the essence of the global scale. Most commonly, the global is represented as a 'space of flows' or a network, in which individual places serve merely as nodes (see Castells, 1996; Smith, 1996). It is this metaphor that denies the agency of people and the social processes embedded in particular places. By representing the world in this way, places become defined as mosaics beneath flows, and scales are rendered as hierarchical with the global as paramount. But if we 23 see scale as arbitrary, relative and constructed as this discussion suggests, then there are significant implications for how we think about globalization. Rather than coming to terms with the ways in which globalization has 'local', 'regional' and 'national' impacts (see, for example, the extended geographical debate on 'localities' reviewed by Barnes, 1996) it should instead be recognized that social processes happen at none of these scales exclusively, but at all scales simultaneously. Thus no scale can be claimed as the privileged level for explanation (Swyngedouw, forthcoming). Expressions such as the local-global dialectic or 'glocalization' are therefore helpful only in the extent to which they assist in the collapsing of such a dualism. The local and global, or place and space, should thus be seen as dialectically related - scales that are 'nested' rather than distinct (Merrifield, 1993; Swyngedouw, forthcoming, 6). A further corollary is that globalization is in fact activated through the social relations existing at and between each of many scales. This perspective, which views globalization as embedded in 'places' at multiple scales, will form the basis for the empirical investigations in later chapters. 2.4 The Politics of the Global Scale I have suggested that by viewing scale as produced or constructed, globalization can be seen as a spatial metaphor to understand, explain, and legitimize experiences. If globalization is interpreted in this way, we can start to destabilize the sense of inevitability that envelopes it, and begin to recognize that it is a construction of scale that has political implications which need to be scrutinized. To explain experience, justify practice and promote a worldview based on globalization is not politically neutral, even though the pervasiveness of this understanding across the political spectrum makes it appear so. In other words, explaining a phenomenon at a particular scale ends up being a political judgement not a technical one: '"scalar narratives' provide the metaphors for the construction of'explanatory' discourses.... Scale is, consequently, 24 not socially or politically neutral, but embodies and expresses power relationships" (Swyngedouw, forthcoming, 4) What, then, are the politics of globalization and 'global logics'? It would be wrong to suggest that the construction of a global scale is a conspiracy among those with a particular ideological leaning or a powerful few who stand to gain. Instead, globalization is a construction in which many are complicit and the diversity of the authors cited earlier in this chapter is a testament to that fact. Nevertheless, as Agnew and Corbridge argue, the idea of globalization creates a Lefebvrian 'representation of space' in which it is primarily neoliberal political practices that are legitimized (1995: 204). Globalization, then, serves as a particular discourse of development that is used to justify neoliberal economic policies in which the state is viewed as a hindrance to economic development. Globalization gives authority to neoliberal arguments for market access and free trade - what has been called the "counter-revolution" in development theory.10 The global logics described above create the context in which openness to the global market is seen as the inevitable and common-sensical route to prosperity and progress - what Broad and Cavanagh call the "Washington consensus" (1993: 156). Broadly speaking, this neoliberal orthodoxy holds that: offer a guarantee against the corruptions of government (and Leviathan), and they embody the most reasonable way of dealing with, and making sense of, a world based around fluidity, flows, change and movement. States, in this discourse, are about stasis, sedimentation and distortions; markets offer an antidote to such self-willed sclerosis and entrenched hegemonies (Agnew and Corbridge, 1995: 200) The 'counter-revolution' in development theory has brought the 'principle' of the free market to the centre of development economics (Toye, 1993). The work of neoliberal theorists 1 0 The theoretical foundations of the 'counter-revolution' in development theory will be discussed in the next section. 25 has created, or perhaps merged with, a consensus in policy circles around the 'fundamental' objectives of fiscal discipline, tax reform, financial liberalization, privatization, deregulation, and support for properly rights. In terms of domestic economic management this translates into policies to reduce price controls and subsidies, eliminate state marketing boards, and limit wage indexation. The key component of the consensus, however, relates to trade liberalization. This involves policies such as exchange rate flexibility, eliminating trade licensing systems, providing export incentives, liberalizing conditions for foreign investment, reducing tariffs and eliminating quota restrictions (Biersteker, 1995, 177-8). Interestingly, although 'the market' is portrayed as being the efficient determinant of resource allocation, in fact the state plays a significant role in many of the policies listed above. The establishment of export processing zones, the provision of tax and other incentives, human capital formation, infrastructure development and support of property rights all require strong state involvement (Douglass, 1991). But government activities go further. The state is also engaged in the selling of places to promote global investment and travel within its territories (Harvey, 1989b). Thus globalization leads to the construction of places through a globalized vocabulary. As Robertson argues, we are seeing a global creation of the local, where "much of what is often declared to be local is in fact the local expressed in terms of generalized recipes of the locality" (1995, 26). But this promotional drive, evident in the Philippines at national, provincial and even municipal levels, goes further than simply 'selling' the attractions available for investors or travellers. It also provides a signal that the state takes seriously its role as facilitator and provider of a stable political environment for international business. As Gordon points out in relation to foreign direct investment flows, what matters most is not relative wages and other factor costs, but "...the general institutional climate and its prospective evolution over a decade's time" (1988, 59). It is globalized markets, however, which provide the hegemonic motif of neoliberal development discourse. This dominance is, moreover, reinforced by an individualistic philosophy that equates capitalist relations of production and exchange with personal freedom. 26 This philosophy is to be found in Milton Friedman's 'Capitalism and Freedom' (1962) and Robert Nozick's 'Anarchy, State, and Utopia' (1974) (Agnew and Corbridge, 1995: 199). The rhetoric of libertarianism and 'freedom' goes a long way towards explaining the appeal which neoliberal economics and neoconservative politics held for several developed societies in the 1980s (for example, in the Thatcher and Reagan governments). These ideas have similarly found their way throughout the developing world in a variety of ways. Biersteker (1995) provides four explanations to account for the spread of neoliberal ideas throughout the developing (and developed) world in the 1970s and 1980s. The first is a social learning explanation based on a diffusion of neoliberalism, with highly capable, foreign-trained technocrats such as Chile's 'Chicago Boys' as 'vectors'.11 A second explanation is that policy changes might represent the power of international institutions, particularly the IMF and World Bank, to impose a particular line of thinking through the conditions attached to financial support in the form of lending or multilateral aid. This is certainly an explanation which elicits a lot of sympathy from critics of those organizations (e.g. Bello, 1994; Amin, 1995). Thirdly, changes in the global economy, including increased global production and competition, could imply a different context in which new policies become rational. Here several of the logics of globalization described in the first part of this chapter are pertinent - they create the intellectual justification for a particular way of 'being in the world'. Finally, new policies might be seen as emerging in response to the failure of prior models of accumulation, and particularly the collapse of planned economies in the late 1980s. Despite the evident failings of 'actually existing socialism', its collapse has clearly led to some uncertainty and pause for self-evaluation on the political left. 1 1 Rabkin (1993) extends this line of argument to suggest that in Chile, such ideas have not just become influential, but have also been incorporated at some level in Chilean political thinking, such that they have also been adopted by democratically elected centrist or left-wing parties 27 Biersteker favours a combination of these explanations, but to this explanatory mix, he also adds the role of local vested interests in promoting neoliberal policies, and in many ways, this is perhaps the most important of all: In general terms, ideas that have the capacity to empower or enhance the position of nascent local allies (often groups who had long been advocates of a particular policy position or view) are likely to have greater influence and potential impact than those that are entirely imported (Biersteker, 1995, 185) Here Biersteker makes the important point that development strategies cannot be divorced from their political economic context. But what he omits to mention is how these ideas, whatever their means of diffusion, are justified for local political consumption. In many cases, this is where the discourse of globalization has been operationalized. 2.5 Globalization and Development Theory At several points in this chapter the work of various development theorists has been invoked. World systems and dependency theorists first brought global relationships to radical development studies. Neoliberal writers have provided the intellectual foundations for contemporary global 'boosters'. Post-marxists, meanwhile, have attempted to define a critical approach that pays closer attention to the specificity of place and 'other voices'. Post-structuralists have drawn attention to the discursive foundations of development itself and its construction as a product and reinforcement of power relations. In this section I will briefly place these various perspectives in the broader context of development theory's 'evolution' over the last 40 years. 28 2.5.1 Modernist Paradigms Orthodox development theories in the early postwar decades were based on a broadly Keynesian model of macroeconomic management which, it was assumed, would lead to modernization processes and eventually the state of high productivity and mass consumption already enjoyed in the developed world (Brookfield, 1975). The classic formulation of this approach was Rostow's linear stages model which provided a universalized trajectory along which Third World countries would pass if they initiated the appropriate 'tricks of development'. One such 'trick' was provided by the Harrod-Domar equation which related GNP growth to the national savings and capital/output ratios (Todaro, 1994). Development was thus conceived as the surmounting of certain obstacles to growth, such as low savings rates. Another such obstacle was the traditional agricultural sector - hence W. Arthur Lewis' dual sector model and Hollis Chenery's focus on structural change both emphasized the shift from agricultural to industrial production (Todaro, 1994). In overcoming these 'impediments' to growth, a key role was envisaged for national government, and the nation-state was the dominant agent in inducing and managing economic growth. The corollary in policy terms was import substitution industrialization (ISI) and protectionist policies to assist the emergence of 'leading sectors' in manufacturing industries. A collection of other philosophical baggage was also associated with such modernization theories, including ethnocentrism, universalized theory, teleological tendencies, technocentrism, and a tradition/modernity dualism (Brookfield, 1975). Coupled with these was an assumption of universalized economic rationality that reduced diverse peoples to a single 'modern subject'. Radical theorists, meanwhile, developed approaches informed by a very broadly marxian interpretation of underdevelopment. The dependencia school represented a reaction to the notion 29 that individual countries were in a position to 'take-off if they would just implement appropriate policies. Dependency theorists like Andre Gunder Frank used the earlier work of Paul Baran to argue that underdevelopment represented the corollary of core countries engaging the periphery in a trading relationships of exploitation and unequal exchange (Frank, 1972; Amin, 1974). The historical antecedence of this relationship was further elaborated by Wallerstein and other world system theorists (Wallerstein, 1974). Thus, unlike the state-centred focus of the modernization school, neo-marxists highlighted the role of international economic relations in the creation of underdevelopment. Classical marxists, however, such as Bi l l Warren (1980), asserted the progressive role of capitalism as a transitional phase to socialism, while others criticized the neo-marxist dependency position for focusing on exchange relations in defining a capitalist system, rather than relations in production (Brenner, 1977). By the late 1970s, writers such as Ernesto Laclau and Fernando Cardoso (who would both later distinguish themselves with decidedly />o.stf-marxist positions) attempted to give greater specificity to the universalized scheme of dependency and world systems approaches, for example in discussions of the articulation of modes of production (Cardoso and Faletto, 1979). To many, however, the enlightened promise of social justice was getting lost in pedantic arguments turning on semantic and esoteric details of marxist theory. Such debates bore little resemblance to the reality from which they were abstracted, and arguments were beginning to resemble a case of theoretical 'involution'. 2.5.2 The 'Crisis' and Beyond The shortcomings of marxist debate were paralleled by a growing realization that orthodox modernization approaches to development were not working either. The first United 30 Nations 'development decade' in the 1960s had left the 'Third World' more impoverished than ever. 'Development', it seemed, was an illusory dream. But the worldly context of both radical and orthodox theories was changing too. The global recessions of the 1970s brought an end to the prosperous post-war years of Fordist mass production and consumption in the industrialized countries. The New International Division of Labour, a product of changes in the production process and in transportation and communications, brought low paid factory jobs to parts of the Third World and led to de-industrialization in the economic heartlands. Modernity was arriving, but in ways predicted by neither marxian nor orthodox theories. By the 1980s, then, development theory was perceived by many to be in 'crisis', both in theory and in practice (Booth, 1985). While existing lines of thought continued in modified forms, a variety of approaches were already in place to diagnose the malaise of, and reconstruct, development theory. Three broad movements will be discussed: neoliberalism, post-marxism and post-structuralism. The emergence of a neoliberal orthodoxy in development theory was discussed earlier in this chapter and in many respects it represented a direct attack on the liberal orthodoxy of state-centred Keynesian demand management economics. John Toye (1993) traces the intellectual lineage of'new right' thinking from Harry Johnson's (1958) critique of Keynesianism, through Peter Bauer's (1972) market-oriented approach, to the emergence in the 1980s of a group of influential scholars, such as Deepak Lai (1983) and Anne Krueger (1995). These writers seek to trace the roots of the global economic crisis of the 1970s to the socialist, dirigiste and Keynesian policies which held sway in the post-war decades (Agnew and Corbridge, 1995: 199). It is from this theoretical position that the neoliberal 'Washington Consensus' receives its intellectual nourishment. Their work translates into the policy positions described earlier: minimal market 31 distortions, the privatization of the economy, and an emphasis on human capital formation over public investment in physical infrastructure and public spending in general. The World Bank's (1993) account of the 'East Asian Miracle', for example, adheres to the neo-liberal "fundamentals" necessary for successful development, going through considerable conceptual contortions to account for the evident government involvement in the East Asian successes, and eventually settling for a compromise which emphasizes the 'market friendly' nature of these interventions. In glorifying Asian economies as successes for its own theoretical framework, neo-liberal approaches have provided another 'crisis' for marxian development theory - a crisis which was already brewing within the radical literature following Warren's (1980) work emphasizing development in the periphery from a classical marxist perspective. From within the radical school of development studies has emerged a series of post-Marxist critiques from writers such as Laclau and Mouffe (1985), Booth (1985), and Corbridge (1986). They point to several key inadequacies in both radical and orthodox approaches which led to an 'impasse' in development theory by the early 1980s: the universalist ethnocentrism of theoretical accounts derived from the experiences of core countries; the implicit teleological tendencies which suggest that all societies must follow the path taken by the 'advanced' societies of Western Europe and North America (Pieterse, 1991); and, essentialism, meaning that one 'essence' of society, usually the 'logic' of capitalism, is identified and invested with totalizing explanatory powers. This critique of development theory was particularly concerned to incorporate a broader range of social processes which are locally constituted - for example, politics, culture, gender, religion, and the state, as well as class. The intention, then, is to adopt a 'critical' stance but to do so without reducing social reality to class relations (Corbridge, 1986, 1988; Watts, 1988). In general, the broad rubric of post-marxism encompasses approaches that 32 attempt to construct contingent and locally specific narratives. Regulation theory, for example, has been adopted by some post-marxist writers as an example of the context-specific theorizing which is needed (Lipietz, 1987). More generally, however, with the withdrawal from universalizing theories of underdevelopment, there has been a growth in what might be termed lower-level or 'inductive' theories of development (Drakakis-Smith, 1990). It is in the development of these theories that geographers have made an important contribution, compared to their rather derivative use of global theories of development. Examples, many of them specific to Southeast Asia, include concepts such as dualism, the informal sector, agricultural and urban involution, circular migration and mobility, moral economy, ersatz capitalism, the desakota, region-based urbanization, and female marginalization. The distinctive character of these concepts is that they tend to be 'working' theories rather than universalizations and, in the case of 'desakota', represent an attempt to localize and indigenize theory. A more fundamental movement out of the 'crisis' in development theory has been through post-structuralist attention to the concepts of discourse and social constructionism. A discourse naturalizes and implicitly universalizes a particular view of the world and the position of subjects within it (Gregory, 1994a). During the 1980s and 1990s increasing attention has been paid across the social sciences and humanities to 'deconstructing' the conceptual categories of established theories - a trend which is often traced back to the post-structuralism of literary critics such as Derrida, and the Foucaldian emphasis on the social construction of reality and the consequent power relations inherent in discursive formations. Several strategies can be adopted in deconstructing discourses, including: finding hidden meanings in 'texts'(broadly conceived); tracing the history of such 'texts' to demonstrate their contingency; analyzing the power 33 relations and interest groups that define and benefit from a particular discourse; and, identifying alternative forms of knowledge and other ways of seeing the world. The discourse of 'Development' has been interpreted as "the form in which it makes its arguments and establishes its authority, [and] the manner in which it constructs the world" (Crush, 1995). Thus writers such as Arturo Escobar (1995), James Ferguson (1992), and Cowen and Shenton (1996) have traced the origins of the Development discourse and have attempted to show the way in which it is implicated in unequal power relations (Watts, 1993). This has led to a 'post-developmentalist' school which is no longer to prepared to accept even the premise that 'Development' can be a basis for theory and practice (Sachs, 1992). Deconstructions of development discourses have found common ground with a growing interest in grassroots activism and social movements (Kelly and Armstrong, 1996). The 'alternative development' literature focuses on popular movements based on a variety of social causes (explicitly not just class-based) and suggests that it is through these movements, and local activism by intellectuals and others, that real change can be effected. Alternative development reflects both a dissatisfaction with class-based struggle alone and the extent to which praxis has been neglected by many marxist development thinkers. Escobar (1992) identifies four features of these 'new social movements': they are essentially local and address particular problems or direct instances of power; they are pluralistic and seldom associated with one ideology or party politics; their struggle is not conceived in purely economic terms; they do not accept at face value the knowledge of 'experts' or government agents. In other words, these movements represent a new element in the civil society of 'Third World' polities. According to Slater, "the new social movements have expressed [a] sense of plasticity, renewing amidst the ruins, living beyond the ghosts of old paradigms" (Slater, 1993, 431). 34 2.5.3 Perspectives on Globalization from Development Theory This brief account of the state of development theory allows some connections to be drawn with the current concern for globalization. In many ways, interest in the rise, or acceleration, of globalization parallels the 'crisis' of modernist development theory from the mid-1970s. Global economic relations made the orthodox approaches based on nation-state look outmoded; industrialization and expanding mass consumption in the 'periphery' made dependency theory seem inadequate; the decline of existing state socialism in the late 1980s made marxist rhetoric passe; global concern for environmental sustainability, womens' equality etc. made economistic theories too narrow and new social movements more attractive; and, interest in deconstructing the discourse of development with its simplistic dualisms -developed/underdeveloped, North/South, First World/Third World - made the implicit equality of a global arena seem more attractive (McGee, 1995). Globalization, then, has been a seductive motif for 'post-impasse' development theory. But as this chapter has shown, it has also provided a discursive legitimation for neoliberal prescriptions to development. In offering a critique of these prescriptions and their consequences, this thesis draws on both post-marxist and post-structuralist approaches. From post-structuralism I take an emphasis on the discourses that construct a particular picture of the world and the position of individual places and people within it. Such constructions are always imbued with power relations. From post-marxism, I draw a sensitivity to the specificities of social relations in places which are not simply the manifestation of processes theorized as universal. These social processes cannot be reduced to economic relations, but also incorporate the cultural, environmental, and political dimensions of lived experience. The purpose of this thesis might be seen, then, as the writing of a critical development geography of globalization. 35 2.6 Summary The logics of globalization described earlier - economic, technological, political and cultural - capture the theoretical dimensions of globalization as a material process. These are indeed processes that, for practical purposes, set a context that cannot be chosen or readily altered. They are, as the politicians and gurus of globalization suggest, an inevitable context for policy-making and action. But, to paraphrase Marx, what is lacking in many contemporary representations of globalization are the "people", or even institutions, who are "creating history, but not in conditions of their own choosing". This, I believe is the point at which an intervention is needed. The leap in logic from the context provided by globalization to the necessities that it implies must be questioned, because it is here that the construction of the global scale becomes politicized. Governments, and in this thesis that means the Philippine state, have readily subscribed to the supposed imperatives of globalization and elided them with a neoliberal agenda of free trade and economic liberalization. Globalization is not synonymous with neoliberalism, but it has been constructed as such - it has become part of a discursive legitimation for thinking about the relationship between particular places and global space. In this sense, globalization is a political discourse serving to naturalize development policies that should be contested and questioned. The basis of this discourse is a production of scale in such a way as to make the relationship between places and global space understandable. It encourages us to think about our 'places in the world' in a particular manner. Specifically the appeal to the notion of globalization enframes places as 'nodes' in a 'network' of global flows in which states, places and actors are denied any proactive role. Social processes that operate at the local scale (whether this be national, provincial, village etc.) are represented as subordinate to the global scale. In other words, scale, particularly the global scale, is being socially constructed in the deferral of political options to the necessities of globalization. 36 This brings us back to the two key arguments presented in chapter 1. First, a corollary of constructing globalization as a determining context for social and economic development is to denigrate social processes operating at, and between, other scales. The global becomes paramount in a hierarchy of scales in which power operates in one direction only - the 'global' asserting itself over the 'local'. In this thesis I will argue instead that the material processes of 'globalization' must be viewed as 'locally' constructed and experienced rather than some deus ex machina to which political choices have to be deferred. This theoretical point is necessarily explored at a variety of scales, where the dominant social actors are not distant, abstract and inanimate forces of globalization, but human agents with motives and agendas that are considerably more parochial. These scales range from the national and provincial (Part II) to the municipal, village, household and individual (Part III). The second key argument is that the deferral to a constructed global scale is not, in many cases, naive. Power, as Vincente Rafael argues, is frequently a product of the ability to broker relationships between the 'inside' and the 'outside' - to "lay claim over the site of circulation" (1995, 5). The construction of scale and the discourse of globalization are, then, political manoeuvres rather than statements of'reality'. One of the purposes of this dissertation, particularly in part II, is to argue this point for the case of the Philippines. In short, I will present evidence suggesting that 'globalization', while based on the material processes of time-space compression, is also a social construction with political implications. Its use as a development discourse in this way can be seen in the strategies and policies that it is used to legitimize. In chapters 4 and 5 this point is made with reference to national policies for economic growth, the management of spatial patterns of that growth, and 'place-marketing' strategies that construct a particular relationship to global space. In chapter 6 a similar point is made at a provincial level, but the focus is on political regulation of markets for land and labour. Before this presentation of empirical material, however, the next chapter will explore some of the issues involved in researching globalization and will describe the methods used. 37 CHAPTER THREE RESEARCHING GLOBALIZATION 3.1 Motivations Recent intellectual interventions have served notice to social 'scientists' that speaking for others is problematic and representation is in 'crisis' (Clifford and Marcus, 1986; Marcus and Fischer, 1986; Clifford, 1988). This has particular importance for those who conduct research in the developing or post-colonial world where a history of imposed hierarchies based on nation, race, gender, and creed has created power relationships from which no one can escape. These are serious concerns, especially among those who 'create' knowledge and perpetuate paradigms. In an era of post-colonial scholarship and a widely discredited developmental imaginary, the days of entering 'the field' with a missionary zeal to improve the world are over (McGee, 1991). Nor is a justification of pure intellectual curiosity adequate. I would argue, however, that research beyond one's immediate context - other places, other cultures - should not be 'off-limits'. It would be both intellectually and politically stifling to deny powers of authorship to any except those native to a place, class, gender etc.. Instead, I believe the imperative that must guide research in other societies is a will to understand the global processes in which we are all complicit - especially those of us in economically and politically powerful societies - and which are implicated in transforming the lives of others. To restrict research to the known and the most readily knowable is to neglect the interconnectedness of all human societies. While I will argue that globalization is a political discourse, it is also a sufficiently real and material process that the lives of 'distant strangers' are inevitably but unconsciously touched by decisions made elsewhere. The clothes we wear, the computers we use are just one part of the ties that link places together. The clothes and computer equipment that I use were at least partially made in the Philippines and these sorts of linkages tie directly into the processes of industrial development and socioeconomic change that this thesis is about. 38 Less directly, but perhaps more powerfully, the ideas brought by North American academics and consultants to projects in the Philippines shape the changes occurring there; Canadian financial institutions and businesses are deeply involved in financing and building the economic boom that the Philippines is currently experiencing; and, Canadian involvement in Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) and the World Trade Organization (WTO) create an institutional and political context for Philippine development. This list merely scratches the surface of mutual ties that link 'my place' and an 'other place'. There is, then an imperative to understand the changes wrought elsewhere in the lives of'distant strangers'.12 In addition to the ethical concerns of understanding globalization processes, there is also a political imperative to understand the spread and impact of the idea of globalization over the last few years (Biersteker, 1995; Agnew and Corbridge, 1995). Economic ideas based on free trade and liberal economic policy have now become the orthodoxy which fewer and fewer states can resist; they have become the new international context for development (Stallings, 1995). These ideas imply certain political practices and have profound impacts on lives. A local study is an important foundation for broader politics of social justice. This need not mean that an inquiry such as this is pervaded by political messages and judgements, but the understandings derived are inevitably politically implicated (Harvey, 1996) 3.2 The Networks of Knowledge Production While there are these linkages between places that I believe ethically necessitate the type of research that I have conducted, there is obviously still a great deal that separates me as a researcher from the lived experiences of the people who participated in this study. The obvious barriers and distinctions of distance, race, class, education and language fed into all the more complex ways in which I found Filipino society and culture subtly different despite some 1 2 This argument has been developed in a more philosophically sophisticated way by Stuart Corbridge (1993a and b) using the philosophy of justice proposed by John Rawls. 39 elements of superficial familiarity. Even with networks of friends and some rudimentary language skills, I was still trying to make sense of a society whose 'sense' I could not internalize, and in which I was always an outsider, observing and acting but not fully participating. This does not negate the work presented here, but does imply a necessity to acknowledge the personally situated nature of the research process. The purpose of this section, therefore, is to outline the elements of design and serendipity that shaped this thesis (and to acknowledge in footnotes the many individuals who assisted along the way) The theoretical discussion in chapter 2 was not the framework with which I approached my fieldwork in the Philippines. As the following extract indicates, my initial research proposal shared the same empirical focus as this thesis, but it was couched in terms of urban-rural relationships rather than discourses and material processes of globalization: The objectives of the proposed research are to explore how industrial development is integrated with agricultural activities in the hinterland of Manila, and particularly how a rapidly expanding waged labour force in manufacturing is linked to the continuing agricultural activities. The key questions that arise relate to decisions concerning labour allocation, sources of income, agricultural production, consumption, the family, and the household. Given the interaction of these spheres, the research will attempt to describe how development is experienced by local households, what factors determine the differential nature of this experience between social groups, and how agricultural activities are affected in the process. The emphasis on globalization was added later, as a reflection of the importance the concept evidently had in the development policies of the national and local governments. But in embarking on fieldwork and in seeking a case study area, my focus was on the household level linkages between the agricultural and industrial sectors. My first research trip to Manila (and my third to the Philippines) was in July and August 1994. Residing at the University of the Philippines (UP), I was able to explore the sources of government data on land use conversion and industrialization and to consult scholars and 40 activists who were examining similar issues.13 In particular, it was through the guidance of Professor Frederico Silao at UP's School of Urban and Regional Planning that my attention was directed towards the changes occurring in his native province of Cavite. Professor Silao was, at that time, directing a team of students who had been contracted to prepare a development plan for the municipality of Tanza. After a personal introduction to the mayor of Tanza and various officers of the municipal government it became clear that Tanza suited my requirements for a fieldwork site in several ways. Firstly, Tanza is a 'rural' town economically based on rice farming but which is experiencing rapid land conversion to non-agricultural uses and is heavily influenced by the nearby export processing zone. Thus the processes of socioeconomic transformation were as evident there as anywhere else in Manila's hinterland. Secondly, Tanza still has a substantial farming population, thus allowing research on the impact of recent development on the farming sector (in other towns, such as Rosario where the export processing zone is located, agricultural land has disappeared completely). Finally, the cooperation of the local government, while not legally required, was an important precondition for the necessary access to data and my general legitimacy in the town. 1 4 The main period of fieldwork began in January 1995 and was completed in August of the same year. Until the end of February I stayed in Manila, taking intensive Tagalog tuition and visiting government offices to collect data, reports and conduct interviews (see Appendix A for a list of agencies visited).15 My institutional base was once again the College of Public 1 3 The assistance of Dean Proserpina D. Tapales at the UP College of Public Administration, and the friendship of Gary Auxilian, Agnes Espano, Emelyn Tapaoan, Teresa Popplewell and Marc Carey at that time made my brief visit both fruitful and enjoyable. I am also grateful to Dr Prod Laquian who facilitated my stay at UP. 1 4 I am grateful to Mayor Hermogenes F. Arayata for his cooperation and to various members of staff at the municipal hall in Tanza, particularly the Planning and Development Officer, Cora Tahimic. 1 5 While English is widely spoken in the Philippines and is the official language of government and education, many Filipinos, especially in rural areas, who have little formal education, speak very little. In Cavite, the vernacular dialect is Tagalog (which is also the national language of the Philippines). Eventually my ability in Tagalog progressed so that I could conduct simple conversations, ask interview questions myself and comprehend most of the responses. Throughout my fieldwork, however, I needed help from a research assistant. This was important because my knowledge of Tagalog was fairly rudimentary, but for several other reasons too. Firstly, in speaking Tagalog, Cavitefios will sometimes use archaic words (referred to as 'deep Tagalog') where non-native Tagalog speakers might simply use a Spanish or English equivalent. This meant that it was important for me to have the assistance of someone from the province who would understand such expressions. Secondly, Filipinos often tend to use their 41 Administration at the University of the Philippines, where I was formally appointed as a Visiting Research Associate.1 6 It was my landlady in Manila, Dr Helen Mendoza, who facilitated my accommodation in Tanza. 1 7 Through an intermediary in Manila, I was introduced to Mrs. Rufina E. Solis, a pharmacist and landowner in Tanza who became my 'Lola' (grandmother) for the duration of my fieldwork (March-August).18 My association with Mrs Solis, quite apart from easing the logistical and emotional trials of field research, also provided me with a social positioning in the town when it came to introducing myself and my purpose. Another piece of good fortune was my acquaintance with Dr Rosario 'Geles' Sosa and her cousin, Ms Berna Javier, both residents of Tanza.1 9 Dr Sosa provided friendship, occasional research assistance, and both academic and medical attention. Berna Javier became my full-time research assistant. As a teacher, part-time helper in her uncle's market stall, and a lifelong resident of Tanza, Berna was well-known to other people in the town. This made introductions to villagers much smoother than they might otherwise have been and further aided my social positioning with informants, who had no experience in dealing with researchers. The usual 'pigeon hole' for foreigners (universally assumed to be Americans) is as Peace Corps volunteers language in subtle ways, through figurative expressions, word plays, contractions and particles which slightly change the tone of a sentence - the full meaning of these turns of phrase could not be understood through a simple translation of the words used. A much deeper knowledge of the language is necessary and for that I needed assistance. Finally, my ear for Tagalog was not sufficiently developed to transcribe interview tapes accurately word for word, and so the help of a native speaker was necessary to ensure accuracy in transcription as well as translation. 1 6 The office staff at the CPA assisted with logistical matters and I was fortunate to enjoy the friendship and support of Dean Jose N. Endriga. Others at UP Diliman who kindly discussed my work and made suggestions were Clemen Aquino, Sylvia Guerrero, Arsenio Balisacan, Rene Ofreneo, Ledivina Carino, Benjamin Carino, Teofilo Luna, Meliton Juanico, Darlene Occena-Guttierez, Dickton Rye. In addition helpful suggestions were made by Jeanne Illo at Ateneo de Manila University and Cecilia Ochoa at the Philippine Peasant Institute. 1 7 This was just one of the kindnesses extended by Helen Mendoza. I should also acknowledge the friendship and support of others at Apo Avenue, particularly Amanda Clarke and Eri Fujieda with whom shared the fun and frustration of learning about the Philippines. 1 8 My debt of gratitude to Lola Pina is enormous. For six months I lived in her house and was treated as a member of the family. Her unconditional kindness and hospitality was an education in the best Filipino traditions of humanity and generosity. I also treasure the friendship of Remia, Sally and Ruby and others at the Farmacia San Agustin, together with Chito and the extended Estacion family in Tanza. 1 9 I should acknowledge the role of Gisele Yasmeen, my colleague at UBC, who was a close friend of Geles in Bangkok while conducting her own field research. In a classic instance of research serendipity, Geles' permanent home in the Philippines was just around the corner from my residence at the Farmacia San Agustin. My research could never have been completed within six months had it not been for the diligent assistance of Berna and Geles. They also became my closest friends in Tanza and I was shown constant kindness by their families. 42 or missionaries. My identity as neither of these took some explaining, but my association with Mrs Solis, Berna, and eventually several other families, gave me credibility on which to build trust. In addition to acting as my 'PR' agent, Berna's principal role was as interpreter during interviews, and then afterwards when we transcribed tape recordings. It was largely through Berna's social networks that I arrived at the two villages used as case studies later in this thesis. I had decided that although I would live in the town centre of Tanza, the municipality as a whole was not a realistic scale at which to conduct ethnographic interviews and collect survey data. By picking two barangays (villages) I would be able to familiarize myself with the place and people (and vice versa). It seemed appropriate to select barangays that exhibited the impact of recent urban/industrial development in different ways. I thus decided to work in one barrio with little land conversion and a largely intact agricultural base, while the other barrio would be a site of substantial land conversion. This seemed to be a 'before' and 'after' scenario, although in reality it became clear that the two villages were simply at different stages in, and experiencing different dimensions of, the same process. In barrio Bunga, Berna knew a family from her work in the market and it was the Porcionculas who became my adopted 'parents' in the village. 2 0 Bunga has no new residential developments and an economy based predominantly on agriculture. It is also one of the most remote villages in Tanza, lying several kilometers along a very poor road, accessible only by motorcycle. In such a community, with tight social bonds, I was fortunate to have an adopted family to provide credibility and contacts. The second village, Mulawin, presented a contrast with Bunga. Although visible from Bunga across an expanse of rice fields, Mulawin lies on a main road linking Tanza and the provincial capital, Trece Martires City, and has experienced substantial land conversion from agricultural to residential uses. In Mulawin, it was Berna's sister's father-in-law, Demetrio Armintia, who provided us with hospitality and introductions. 2 0 Romana and Emming Porcioncula and their family provided detailed information on the village, fed and accommodated us and introduced me to their extended family. Their daughter Myrna and Manny Bobadilla also showed great kindness and honoured me with 'kinship' as a godfather to their daughter. 43 3.3 Research Strategies My research proceeded along several fronts between February and August 1995. In particular, I gathered government reports/statistics and local literature as secondary sources, and conducted surveys and taped interviews as primary data generation. In addition, throughout my fieldwork I kept a newspaper clippings file and a detailed journal recording the progress of my work and my thoughts on the experiences it provided. 3.3.1 Secondary Sources The data and literature gathered at various offices and institutions were broadly related to agriculture, urban development, industrialization and economic development policy. In the case of new industrial developments and agricultural land conversion, I have figures updated to June 1995. For a few data series, I have figures that includes part or all of 1996. In some instances, just secondary material was gathered at government agencies and other institutions, but frequently I was also able to interview key personnel. While my status as a white, male, English/Canadian researcher created obstacles to understanding, it was also an enormous benefit in dealing with officials at governmental and non-governmental offices. A n 'outside' identity frequently opened doors that would be closed to those within the local social hierarchy. This meant access to senior politicians, officials and academics was possible, while at the same time providing enough curiosity value that farmers, storekeepers etc. were often keen to engage in discussions. My association with the prestigious University of the Philippines also assisted in facilitating access to the bureaucracy. A complete list of agencies visited is provided in Appendix A . 44 3.3.2 Interviews During the course of my research I conducted taped interviews with over 70 individuals, lasting from half an hour to three or four hours. These were predominantly with members of farming families in the villages of Bunga and Mulawin, but also with other residents of Tanza. Although a few interviews were conducted in English, most were in Tagalog. Interviews were transcribed a few days later in abbreviated form - taking notes in English for factual information, but transcribing in full passages of a more qualitative nature. These transcripts are used extensively in later chapters, and all quotes will be given in both English and Tagalog. The majority of interviewees were members of farming families - either husbands, wives or adult children. This was a reflection of my research goal to understand the impact of industrialization and land conversion on such families and their responses to recent changes. In addition, however, I also sought out the following groups: workers at the CEPZ, landless agricultural workers, developers, agricultural technicians, youth leaders, teachers, and older people both in villages and in the town proper with a good recollection of local history. In addition to the taped interviews I also spoke to numerous others in less formal circumstances and recorded our discussions in written form. Almost all of the interviews were conducted in the respondent's house, but occasionally in a field or other place of work. The interview usually started with an explanation of my purpose ("to study the effects of land conversion and industrialization on the lives of local people") which would frequently generate an immediate response from interviewees. Given the magnitude of the changes occurring, few interviewees were without opinions that they were willing to share. The rest of the interview would proceed through a series of issues depending on the particular circumstances of the respondent. While guided by a series of predetermined, but open-ended, questions, most interviews went off on tangents determined by the interviewee. Two issues emerged during the course of interviews which had a bearing upon the opinions which I heard. The first related to a gender and age bias which appeared initially to be 45 affecting the group to which I had access for interviews. It often seemed to be assumed that my business was with the 'man of the house' and with the older members of the household. Sometimes, only after completing an interview with a husband could I interview his wife or their children. The other issue was the 'performative' nature of some of my interviews. They felt too formal and staged - a result of my peculiarity (which often led to a small crowd of spectators), the tape recorder (which establishes an 'OK we'll start now' scenario), and the translation which was usually needed. Where I returned to interview individuals more than once, this became less of a problem, and, later in my fieldwork I found the performance element could be eased by using my formal written survey at the start of the interview, thereby finishing the 'formal' questions and releasing the discussion into a less constrained atmosphere. 3.3.3 Surveys Three surveys were conducted during the course of my research in Tanza. The first survey instrument was a short (two pages) household questionnaire used to gather socioeconomic information in Bunga and Mulawin (the original survey and English translation are provided in Appendix B). The survey was written in Tagalog and tested on a few households before full implementation. It requested details of family members, educational attainment, migration, sources of livelihood (primary and others), current or returned overseas contract workers, responsibilities for household chores, and ownership of household appliances. The survey was developed only after a period of open-ended interviews which allowed me to develop questions that would be relevant and acceptable. In both Bunga and Mulawin, the bulk of the surveys were conducted over two or three days, with the help of my research assistant and several volunteers 46 from the barangay youth groups {Sangguniang Kabataan or Kabataan Barangay), who were given a short briefing and training session.21 In Bunga, we were able to complete 230 surveys out of a total household population of 260 (a coverage of about 90 per cent). In Mulawin, 205 surveys were completed but this represented only about one third of the total household population. In Mulawin, this was not a random sample but represented the core area of the village which includes several housing developments of various ages. Two large developments which are technically within the village boundary were excluded because they are separated from the main part of the village and because it was necessary to keep the survey down to a manageable size. Maps 4 and 5 in later chapters indicate the areas surveyed. The second survey was aimed specifically at farming households and sought information on the economic and technical details of their farming activities (see original and translation in Appendix C). Like the household survey, this questionnaire was also designed after a period of open-ended interviews, but was administered exclusively by my research assistant and myself. In Bunga we covered 43 of the 65 tenant farmers, and in Mulawin 9 of the 13 who remain. The third survey was administered within the Tanza National Comprehensive High School. The purpose of the questionnaire, which was completed during classes, was to gauge the family backgrounds, attitudes and aspirations of young people (see Appendix D). These might have been gathered in more detail through in-depth interviews, and while this technique was also used, many teenagers were uncomfortable with interview situations or open-ended survey questions. The brief questionnaire was therefore designed in consultation with the school's counseling office and consisted mostly of short answer responses.22 After a pre-test with 10 students, the survey was administered to 136 final year students (mostly aged 16). 2 1 I am very grateful to Menes Lucido and Che Che Sosa and to the members of the Kabataan Barangay in each village for their help with these surveys, and to Barangay Captains Benny Reterta and Domingo Porcioncula for their cooperation and support. 2 2 Members of the counselling and guidance staff were most helpful in facilitating the questionnaire at the high school. In particular: Mrs M.Clamosa, Mrs E.Rovero, Mrs L.Bobadilla, Mrs A.De Castro, Mrs L.Lacson, and Mrs M.Timpoc. 47 3.3.4 Mapping Hand-drawn sketch maps were elicited from several local people and were then incorporated into maps of the two villages which I drew myself based on observations. These sketches were then used to produce the villages maps in chapters 7 and 8. They feature all houses - included those omitted from the household survey - together with institutional buildings, physical characteristics and general land use patterns for June 1995. 3.3.5 Analysis The household surveys and Bunga farming surveys were entered into the Microsoft Access relational database management system. This software allowed several data tables to be compiled relating to personal characteristics, household characteristics and farming practices. Cross-tabulations could then be generated both within and between these data tables to provide descriptive statistics for a wide range of socioeconomic characteristics in Bunga and Mulawin. Access was also used for some secondary data gathered from government offices, for example on industrial establishments in Cavite. For data sets with smaller populations or more limited uses -such as the farming survey in Mulawin or the high school survey - manual calculations were performed to generate quantitative output. 3.4 Research Themes Four key themes informed my interview and survey questions and the data gathered from secondary sources. It is these themes that inform the empirical analysis of globalized development presented in chapters 6-10: 48 a. The politics of development in Cavite and Tanza It was constantly apparent that much more than 'economic' forces determined the nature of development in Tanza, and in Cavite (and the Philippines) as a whole. Two areas in particular were of interest. Firstly, the ways in which development strategy at a national level was politically justified - and this is where the importance of globalization discourse became apparent; secondly, at a smaller scale, in the power relationships and influence wielded by public officials and land owners. This is a theme that underpins many later chapters. b. The changing local labour market A major complaint of farmers, and observation of others, was the impact of employment growth at the export processing zone on labour supply for agricultural activities, especially the harvesting and transplanting of rice. This has led to both changes in farming production techniques and to substantial migration into the area. The availability of local jobs is, however, selective according to age and gender, with a strong bias towards young single women. Factory work is not, therefore, usually an option for displaced farmers. Another important drain on the local labour market (though also an important source of income through remittances) is migration overseas for contract work - mostly as seamen, domestic helpers or construction workers. The process of local labour market change in response to globalized development is explored in chapter 7. c. Land conversion and agrarian change The second major manifestation of globalized development in Tanza is the conversion of farmland into residential subdivisions. A variety of economic and social factors are driving this process. There are also changes occurring in farming that continues in the municipality, both in terms of the crops being cultivated and the techniques used. These themes are examined in chapters 7 and 8. 49 d. Cultural Change - Work, Generation and Gender Adjustments in labour markets and land use represent one dimension of globalization as a material process experienced locally, but the consequences and causes of these changes are to be found beyond the socioeconomic and political spheres. Cultural changes too are both driving and being driven by the process of globalization. Three themes in particular became apparent during interviews: the shifting gender identities associated with growth in female waged employment at local factories; an emergent youth culture that adopts globalized 'signs' and reflects changing attitudes towards family, careers and social institutions; and, finally, a changing meaning attached to particular types of work, especially agricultural work, as new opportunities open up in factories, offices and overseas. These themes are examined in detail in chapter 9. 3.5 From Research to Writing Gathering primary data in Tanza was a process suffused with a constant tension in assimilating individual experiences into an academic research process. Throughout my fieldwork, one of the main issues I faced was the need to break down 'big' questions - questions which drive a thesis or research project and which have relevance in an academic context - into smaller ones which would enable local people to relate to my purpose. There would have been little point in talking directly about political discourses of development, local relationships of social power, the changing culture of work or shifting gender relations. Instead, a translation was required both between languages and from academic debates to questions which could be posed to farmers about their everyday lives and productive operations - questions which would be easily answerable and yet would speak to larger issues. After fieldwork was completed, the opposite problem arose - how to present the experiences of people with whom I lived in terms of an academic thesis. One instance of 'translation' is in the incorporation of the themes listed above into a broader theoretical 50 framework based on the issue of globalization. More practically, however, as time passes the 'complete' lived process of fieldwork fades into memory and experience becomes distilled into survey forms and interview transcripts. What follows, then, inevitably carries these tensions within it, although I hope that the use of quotations wherever possible, and details of the places where fieldwork was conducted, go some way towards softening the process of dehumanization and separation. PART II CONSTRUCTING GLOBALIZATION IN THE PHILIPPINES 52 CHAPTER FOUR CONSTRUCTING A PLACE IN THE WORLD: T H E PHILIPPINE PAST 4.1 Introduction In theoretical terms, I have argued that globalization can be seen as a discourse incorporating a particular construction of scale. This part of the thesis begins the process of making that argument for the Philippines in particular. Inevitably the construction of globalization in the Philippines is a product of historical experience rather than an instant creation and so this chapter reaches back into the Philippine past to explore the ways in which powerful actors have produced the country's 'place in the world'. This is not, then, a comprehensive historical account, but rather an interpretive history to illustrate that point. This overview is necessary to the argument made in the thesis for several reasons. Firstly, it demonstrates that the dominant vision of the Philippines as a place in 'global space' has varied over time and is historically contingent and politically contested. Secondly, the account shows that the construction of globalization in the Philippines is to be found not, or at least not just, in the exogenous forces of colonialism, global capital, multilateral institutions or post-colonial geopolitics, but in the articulation of all of these forces with powerful local agents. Thus 'global flows' are not simply acting upon local political, economic and cultural structures, but are interacting with them. Thirdly, the chapter provides some of the historical roots of an economy and a culture that is strongly oriented towards the material processes of globalization. Understanding this orientation is essential in developing an analysis of how globalization could become such a powerful discourse in the Philippines' recent history. Finally, the chapter provides a broader context for the historical account of the province of Cavite that will be provided later. In making these points, this chapter is structured chronologically, starting with the precolonial society that the Spanish encountered, followed by the experience of Hispanic colonialism (1521-1896), then the American period (1898-1946) and finally the post-war (and 53 post-independence) Philippine state. Beginning with a description of the precolonial Philippine archipelago is important because it draws attention to distinctive elements of Filipino cultural development sometimes forgotten in accounts of colonialism. This is not to say that there is a foundational Filipino identity to be unearthed, but it does highlight the fact that subsequent outside influences encountered a culturally complex society that already had substantial contact with the outside world. The processes of colonialism were, therefore, closer to hybridization than assimilation. The nature of this hybridization under Spanish rule will be discussed in several areas: trade and production; social structure and government; religion; and, gender relations. In the case of trade and production, we see how economic interest groups, such as Spanish merchants and colonists, and British and American trading houses, vied to define the nature of the colony's articulation with the world economy in order to advance their own interests. In the realms of government, religion and gender relations, I will suggest that the significant effect of colonialism was less a reworking of social and cultural frameworks - most were kept in place in a modified form - but more their formalization and expansion so that hierarchies concluded not with local chiefs or shamans but with authorities far removed. It is in this process - the colonization not of territory or resources, but of consciousness - that the roots of a globalization discourse can be located. The American experience in the Philippines also worked on both economic and cultural levels. Through an ostensibly more benign, but perhaps therefore more insidious, brand of colonialism, the US sought to advance both its own interests and those of a particular class of Filipinos. As an exogenous influence, US colonialism represented an input to a pre-existing structure of local power relations that left hierarchies and hegemonies even more entrenched. The post-independence era saw a similar pattern persist, with outside support being used for domestic political purposes. At the same time, domestic political constituencies have multiplied to create a variety of views with regard to Philippine relations with the outside world. It is those constituencies that have jockeyed for influence in recent years and have arrived at the 54 contemporary political economy of globalization that holds sway. By presenting this contemporary perspective in its broader historical context it is my intention that it should start to look rather less conclusive and more contingent and contestable. 4.2 The Pre-Colonial Philippines When, in 1521, Ferdinand Magellan arrived and claimed for the Spanish crown what would become the Philippines, he found an archipelago whose political structure bore no relation to the contemporary Philippine state and indeed where the nation-state was an unfamiliar concept. No unifying pre-colonial empire existed as it had elsewhere in the Malay world, for example under Majapahit (centred on Java) and Srivijaya (on Sumatra). Instead there existed a system of local sultanates and fiefdoms controlling limited hinterlands from coastal and riverine settlements (Constantino, 1975). Different cultural, linguistic and social systems existed in the archipelago's various regions - differences that still carry some weight today in the construction of regional identities, for example as Ilocanos, Tagalogs, Bicolanos or Visayans (and extending to subgroups within such regions). For the purposes of this study, however, it is sufficient to concentrate on Tagalog society - the cultural group living in 16th century Manila and the surrounding region. The word 'Tagalog' is thought to be a contraction of the phrase taga Hog, meaning 'from the river' or 'river dweller', which gives some indication of the topography of the region - low-lying riverine plains draining to Manila Bay or the freshwater mass of Laguna de Bay, but also extending into the surrounding uplands to include what is now Bulacan, Manila, Rizal, Cavite and Laguna (Scott, 1994). Rice was then, as now, the staple of the Tagalogs, but swidden agriculture also yielded root crops. In a few areas complex, labour intensive irrigated field systems had developed for rice cultivation, although seasonal flooding also provided natural irrigation. Prior to Spanish missionization neither ploughs nor draft animals were used, and land was plentiful with large 55 areas uncultivated. Fish formed the other main staple, with coastal waters and rivers exploited for this purpose. Craft production was well developed by the sixteenth century and while local goods were for subsistence purposes, surpluses would be traded with other communities. By the time the Spanish arrived, Manila was already the archipelago's major entrepot port, with a population of around 5-10,000, and acting as a centre for trade between other islands and the rest of the region. Merchants from Borneo, China, Japan, Siam, Cambodia, India and the Islamic and Malay worlds frequented Manila and had done so for several hundred years (Reid, 1993: 60). The old Tagalog word for Chinese reflects this: sanglay is a contraction of two Chinese words, chang and lai, meaning 'regularly come' (Scott, 1994). Exports from Manila were mostly primary products such as wax, honey, leather, deerskins, raw cotton, palm wine, and gold, but given the port's significance as a trading centre, foreign goods such as Chinese silks and porcelain were also traded there. Imports to Manila were predominantly manufactured items such as textiles, crockery, kettles and swords, and commodities such as copper, pepper and precious stones. Tagalogs traded these goods with other settlements throughout the archipelago via well-established inter-island or upland-lowland trade routes. But Manila-based trade in the archipelago did not imply any form of political control emanating from the growing core region. Instead, dispersed barangays of 100-500 people were mostly engaged in subsistence cultivation and formed self-contained fiefdoms. The word barangay itself indicates something of the nature of these communities. Meaning 'boat' in Tagalog, the word refers to the initial settlement of the islands by individual boatloads of migrants and implies the close ties that bound members of the same community, through kinship, allegiance or alliance (Reid, 1988). The 'captain' of a village was a datu, and together they formed an aristocratic maginoo class in Tagalog society. Some villages were grouped together as a bayan or town, with one datu taking precedence over others by virtue of superior economic or military power. The datu would act as the military, political and legal chief and could command services, agricultural produce 56 and respect from his people. Two of the most powerful of these rulers were to be found in the settlements of Tondo and Maynila, at the mouth of the Pasig River where Manila is now sited. The datu class formed one part of a three-tiered social system that was essentially feudal, but with important differences from the European equivalent at the time. Beneath the datu, there was a class of'freemen', called timawa or maharlika, who had rights to a portion of agricultural land in the barangay and who owed the datu nothing but their occasional labour. Beneath the timawa, there were slaves, or alipin, who were subordinated in a system of debt peonage (Scott, 1994). Their debt, and therefore their own allegiance, could be transferred between datus making them similar to bonded slaves in the European context, but like the timawa, they too could claim and inherit agricultural land from which they would have to pay a tribute at harvest time. Their position was not, therefore directly equivalent to slavery in a European understanding and such distinctions were to cause confusion among Spanish colonizers. On observing Filipino society in the late sixteenth century Legazpi noted that The inhabitants of these islands are not subjected to any law, king or lord... He who owns most slaves, and the strongest, can obtain anything he pleases They recognize neither lord nor rule; and even their slaves are not under great subjection to their masters and lords, serving them only under certain conditions. (Legazpi, 1569, 54; cited in Reid, 1988, 120) As Reid points out, across Southeast Asia there was "a combination of sharply stratified hierarchy with seeming looseness of political structure which would baffle European travellers, empire builders, and ethnographers for centuries" (Reid, 1988, 120) In summary, several features of pre-colonial society are worth emphasizing because they address the 'bafflement' which European colonizers would feel, and they create a complex relationship between the Philippines and outside influences (which continues into the present). Firstly, precolonial society was based on close familial ties and networks which defined social standing and represented the first call on personal loyalty. The origins of the barangay as an extended kinship grouping meant that families remained closely knit and in close proximity - a 57 system that continued and was extended through the practice of fictive kinship. Secondly, the relatively loose system of power relations meant that allegiance was owed not to a place or an institution, but to an individual with whom a personal relationship was established. This was, moreover, a relationship between patron and client, with mutual responsibilities, not one of absolute sovereign power of one person over another. Thirdly, land ownership was not a European system of private property, but one in which usufruct rights were assigned and understood while ownership, to the extent that it was a relevant concept, remained communal. Fourthly, pre-colonial Tagalog society was characterized by a dispersed pattern of settlements with little political coherence, meaning that diverse regional identities remained powerful. Fifthly, despite the insular nature of communities, they nevertheless had trading links and familiarity with a range of other material and symbolic cultures with whom they were exchanging goods, ideas, linguistic traits and occasionally blows. Thus although ethnologically of Malay descent, and with languages of Malayo-Polynesian origin, by the sixteenth century Tagalog culture and economy was a blend of distinctive local characteristics and the influence of others. Sixthly, gender relations were decidedly at odds with those who came later. Women enjoyed considerably greater economic independence in sixteenth century Tagalog society than was true of European societies at the time. Women were family accountants and could administer assets without their husband's consent. In general, men controlled social and sexual realms, but women exercised authority in productive and ritual domains (Eviota, 1992). Finally, religious observance was based on animistic beliefs. These practices were latterly influenced by Malay customs through contact with Borneo and supplemented or replaced by the spread of Islam, also from the south. It was into this setting that the variously bemused, scandalized and assertive Spanish inserted themselves. Yet despite the best efforts of the colonizers and missions over several centuries, these are also characteristics that can be seen to varying degrees in contemporary Filipino society. Beyond the symbolism and piety of Spanish Catholicism and the materialism of 58 American-style modernization, elements of pre-Hispanic Filipino culture endure in modified forms. 4.3 Spanish Colonialism: Galleons, Governors and Godliness While 'galleons', 'governors' and 'godliness' form the popular conception of Spanish colonialism (with the addition of 'gold' in the Americas), it is in fact very difficult to generalize about the Spanish colonial project in the Philippines. The complexity of the Islands' experience of colonialism derives from several sources. Firstly, colonialism had its own geography as different parts of the archipelago experienced subjugation in distinct ways. From the plantation workers on Visayan sugar estates, to the tenant farmers of Luzon, to urban dwellers in Manila, to the swidden cultivators of the Cordillera mountains, the Spanish presence meant very different things, and, in the case of the latter groups, not much at all. Indeed, Spanish influence during the first two hundred years of colonization was geographically highly circumscribed. The influence of colonialism beyond Manila and its hinterland waned rapidly. As McCoy points out: The Philippines did not develop as a unitary colonial economy oriented towards a single satellite entrepot at Manila. Instead, the archipelago emerged as a series of separate societies that entered the world system at different times, under different terms of trade, and with different systems of production. (McCoy, 1982, 8) The second pitfall in discussing Spanish colonialism in toto is to neglect the historical dimensions of the colonial project. The early boom decades of the galleon trade, the later stultifying effects of its limitations on trade, and finally the incorporation of the Islands into the nineteenth century world economy, all mean that it is possible to talk of a colonial legacy but not of a generalized colonial experience in the Philippines. As well as spatial and temporal variability, there was a social dimension to colonialism. As colonists and missionaries attempted to impose a European social structure (and morality) upon the native population, the pre-existing social structure was reworked but not replaced. Thus those with different social positions prior to colonization experienced the process in distinct 59 ways. Finally, since the Spanish encountered a oral rather than written culture, accounts of colonialism are almost entirely derived from the records of the colonists. As Vincente Rafael (1988) compellingly shows, the complexity of translating experiences and the gulf between the lifeworlds of colonizers and colonial subjects mean that being limited to one side of the story is a substantial drawback. These factors make a comprehensive account of the colonial period impossible within the space available here (see Cushner, 1971, or Phelan 1959, for such an account). Instead I will highlight several features of the Spanish colonial period that demonstrate the complexity of the relationship between the 'inside' and 'outside': the 'global' force of colonialism articulating with 'local' social processes among subjugated peoples. Each feature continues to exert an influence over contemporary patterns of Philippine engagement with its 'global' context. 4.3.1 Trade and Production The extensive trading network already established in Southeast Asia by the sixteenth century was known to the Spanish. Similarly, the cultural, religious and linguistic interaction between different parts of the region stretching from the Arabian Gulf to China must also have been evident. When Magellan landed on Cebu in 1521, his Sumatran slave was apparently immediately understood by the local people (Reid, 1988). Spanish conquest was at least partly based on a desire to profit from these existing trading networks by bringing their products to European markets. Caoili (1988) argues that the three principal motives behind Spanish colonialism were: to secure a share in the spice trade then under Portuguese monopoly control; to establish direct contact with China and Japan for trading purposes; and, to convert the inhabitants of the islands to Christianity. While Magellan's first contact with the people of Cebu was amiable and yielded both tradeable goods and some religious converts, his involvement in local political rivalries resulted in his death at the hands of a Cebuano warlord. Over the next few decades three colonizing 60 expeditions failed to overcome local resistance and it wasn't until 1565 that the Spanish returned to Cebu with a successful colonizing force led by Miguel Lopez de Legazpi. By 1571, Legazpi had moved his capital to Manila due to food shortages in Cebu, and had become governor-general of the new colony. Much of Manila's wealth in the years after conquest was derived from its status as a trading port for galleons carrying Asian goods to Spain's colony in Mexico. Galleons sailed regularly between 1565 and 1813, carrying mail from Spain and Mexican silver to Manila, and Chinese merchandise, particularly textiles (from the pre-existing Manila-China trade), back to Acapulco (Caoili, 1988). The trade, dependent on demand for Asian products in Central and South America, proved highly profitable and peaked in 1605 when the united Spanish and Portuguese thrones allowed goods from across East and Southeast Asia to pass through Manila on their way to Mexico. Merchants in Seville and Cadiz, however, resented the competition from Chinese silk that undermined their monopoly in the Americas (Cushner, 1971). Pressure from this constituency led to tight controls over trade starting in 1593. Spanish authorities imposed a limit of one merchant fleet per year on the Manila-Acapulco route, attempted to enforce a system of quotas on the volume of trade, and restricted non-Asian Philippine trade to Mexico. This prevented the full incorporation of the colony into a growing world system and restricted its role to that of an entrepot port on the periphery of the Spanish empire. Local wealth accumulated through trading relationships and rental arrangements rather than value added in production - an early incarnation of the system that Yoshihara (1988) has described as 'ersatz capitalism' in the post-colonial era. As de Morga pointed out in the early seventeenth century: The Spaniards have not needed to apply themselves to, nor do they engage in, any other business. Consequently, there is no farming nor agricultural work of any significance done by them nor do they work or exploit the many mines or gold placers. Nor do they take any interest in many forms of business that they could very profitably turn to if the China trade were to fail them. In this respect, then, this export-import business has been very harmful and prejudicial; it has also hurt the natives who are gradually abandoning 61 their former occupations and labour skills. (Antonio de Morga, 1609; trans, by J.Cummins, 1971; cited in Caoili, 1988) The principal beneficiaries of this system were the Spanish merchants of Manila and the Chinese traders ghettoized in Manila's Parian who, despite occasional harassment and expulsions, monopolized the retail trade and credit markets. Chinese and Chinese-Filipino mestizos were to become the leading entrepreneurs during the 19th century (see Wickberg, 1965). Because of the limitations on the galleon trade, the Philippine colony was not a money-maker for the Spanish crown. Indeed, Cushner (1971) suggests that the colony was a financial liability until the nineteenth century, and only the threat of English, Dutch and French advances, plus the obligation to evangelize, kept the Spaniards there in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. But this poor economic performance was self-imposed by the Spanish. Every aspect of the galleon trade was closely regulated and its profits simply supported the Spanish elite of Manila (Cushner, 1971). Control over trade gradually became concentrated among fewer and fewer families, and the volume of trade actually declined from 1650 until the 1780s (McCoy, 1982). Only then did technologically induced time-space compression bring the Philippines 'closer' to Europe. But a more open trading regime and a sharper focus on economic development was also induced by other events. The British occupation of Manila and Cavite in 1762-64, at the end of the Seven Years' War, ended with onerous terms for the Spanish colony and Manila was left in economic ruin. The task of reconstruction fell to an enlightened (in the eighteenth century sense) governor, Don Jose Basco y Vargas Valderrama y Rivera, who provided impetus for change. Basco y Vargas, governor for nine years from 1778, was a reformer in the Bourbon tradition that by that time had a firm grip on the Spanish throne (Cushner, 1971). The Bourbons viewed colonies as sources of income for the mother country, leading to a concerted effort to develop local economic resources to the full. Numerous projects conducted by individual entrepreneurs sought to exploit resources such as pepper, clove, cinnamon, sugar cane, indigo, cotton, tobacco 62 and timber. Incentives were also introduced by Basco y Vargas to encourage agriculture, mining and silk production. The establishment of a Spanish trading company, the Real Compafiia de Filipinas, in 1785 also hastened the exploitation of the islands' natural resources and allowed direct exports to the Spanish market. The company's activities led to the commercial cultivation of a wide range of products, particularly sugar which extended to all parts of the islands by 1809 (Cushner, 1971). Another group, the Sociedad Economica de Amigos del Pais de Manila translated scientific papers on agricultural and botanical techniques and undertook research on the natural resource potential of the islands. The late eighteenth century, then, was a period of economic expansion in the Philippines, at least for those few Spanish and mestizo merchants and landholders who were in a position to take advantage of economic opportunities. Foreign traders were permitted to operate in Manila for the first time from around 1789, and included American, British, Portuguese and French ships (Cushner, 1971). By 1816 so many American ships were trading in Manila that a consul to the Philippines was appointed for the first time (McAndrew, 1994; Cushner, 1971). By the mid-nineteenth century considerable amounts of foreign and local capital had been invested in Philippine agriculture to supply the export trade. The port of Manila was finally opened to free trade in 1834, by which time the extensive operations of British and other trading houses had made the restrictive colonial trade regime anachronistic. Provincial ports, such as Iloilo, were similarly opened to direct foreign trade in 1855. Throughout the nineteenth century it was British, not Spanish, capital that dominated the Philippine export economy, and British imports and exports accounted for over half of the Philippines' trade throughout the mid-nineteenth century. Sugar in particular was a focus of British attention (Larkin, 1992). By the mid-nineteenth century, the cultivation of cash crops had become widespread. Light industries also started to develop around Manila, which remained the colony's main port. By the late nineteenth century, the Philippines had become an exporter of primary products to the rapidly expanding world markets for sugar, hemp, tobacco, coffee, indigo and other 63 commodities. Central Luzon became a major rice granary for both the country and the broader East Asian region, Bicol developed hemp for the American market, the Cagayan valley grew tobacco, and the Western Visayas, especially Negros, cultivated sugar. The emphasis on cash cropping led to further land concentration, indebtedness and impoverishment in rural areas. In the case of tobacco, for example, where the colonial government exercised a marketing monopoly, a British consul, writing in 1873, observed that: Cagayan is the great tobacco field of the Philippines. The labour is forced as every native is obliged to cultivate a certain amount of tobacco land, the produce of which, i f equal to the standard size and quality is received and paid for in receipts made payable by the Philippine government whilst the remainder is either burnt or returned to the farmer who cannot sell it in that district and is not permitted to sell it to any other. The money to pay for the tobacco crop of 1871 left Manila for Cagayan in 1873 and in the meantime the natives have been driven by necessity to sell their receipts at absurd and ruinous discounts to the Governor, Magistrate or some other government employee.... How can the Spanish government expect that the natives are happy with them or (although I suppose they are the most patient people in the world) desirous of remaining under the Spanish rule which so far from being as they pretend, a civilized and enlightened one, renders the natives in some districts worse than slaves, in as much as that slaves are always provided with the main necessities of life whilst on the other hand the Philippine system at present in vogue tends to deprive them of both food as well as liberty. (Acting British Consul Oswald Coates, 1873, cited in Cushner, 1971, 203) The emergence of the Philippines as an agricultural export economy had two important features. Firstly, it was conducted by, and for the benefit of, foreign trading companies, with little or no benefit accruing to the mass of the indigenous population. Only higher status natives and mestizos benefited, leading to the development of a rural landed 'gentry' and an urban professional middle class, some of whom grew wealthy enough to educate their children in European universities. The other group that continued to profit were Chinese traders who acted as middlemen in the export trade and where thus scattered through the provinces. Secondly, this colonial economy had a definite geography, with various regions incorporated into the world economy in different ways through different products and systems of production. Thus McCoy argues that even as the colonial economy was being drawn ever more 64 closely into the world system, it was not in the form of a regional hierarchy with Manila acting as the gateway to the outside, but rather as parts of a network of relationships at different scales (McCoy, 1982: 12-13). Most of the economic changes in the early decades, and even centuries, of colonization were experienced only in the hinterland of Manila. There, colonial rule was being exerted through a tribute tax, compulsory labour, and the forced purchase of agricultural products. Local datus became cabezas de barangay and were exempt from these obligations, thus providing a local comprador class that buttressed Spanish authority. For the rest of the population, however, these obligations meant that agricultural production had to be intensified to avoid starvation. The cultivated area also increased as Manila's hinterland became its granary. Some, however, simply left the oppression of rural life and migrated to the city, leading to a stream of rural-urban migration and the rapid growth of the capital. The growth in demand with the city's expansion made agriculture more lucrative and the provinces around Manila became prime agricultural land. Land concentration continued and by the eighteenth century Catholic religious orders were the largest landowners around Manila. These friar estates produced sugar, rice, fruit, tobacco and other crops, while the institution of private property meant that farmers themselves became tenants or farm labourers (Caoili, 1988). Tagalog opposition to the impositions of their friar-landlords led to periodic peasant unrest culminating in an agrarian revolt in 1745. This anti-clerical theme was also the basis of the more concerted and successful revolt based on nationalistic aspirations in 1896. 4.3.2 Social Structure and Government In the late sixteenth century, Legazpi was able to bring large areas of the islands under Spanish control and in many places this was done without resorting to force. Instead, effective control was established through the work of missions and through the governor's application of diplomacy to take advantage of the disunity and rivalry between native rulers (Caoili, 1988). 65 The Spanish did not attempt to reorder the existing social hierarchy but instead coopted it to act as the local colonial government. Existing datus became the principalia class from which officials were chosen. The power of the few was further enhanced as the Spanish implemented a policy of reduction in which dispersed settlements were amalgamated into towns and the population was forcibly resettled around the municipal hall and church. This facilitated a more intrusive form of colonial government. Datus were eager to take advantage of the new concepts of alienable private property, title deeds and other novel legal instruments in order to enhance their wealth. Religious orders and private speculators, meanwhile, were in need of the land which the datus readily supplied - from their own usufruct holdings, that of their families and slaves, and from uncultivated land in the barangays (Scott, 1994). In addition, many communal areas simply became parts of land grants made by the Spanish crown to wealthy Spaniards, native principales, and religious orders. But beneath the imposed authority of the Spanish, an antecedent system of power relations continued to operate at a local level. Dynasties descended from datus dominated regional political economies and in many cases had a strong vested interest in the continuation of colonial rule. Colonial rule both solidified their power and legitimized its extension. A new hierarchy of administration was imposed by the Spanish that superseded but also incorporated traditional systems of authority. Figure 1 illustrates that hierarchy. 66 Figure 1 - The Administrative Hierarchy of Spanish Colonialism King I Council of the Indies I Viceroy 4-Governor i Audencia I Alcaldes 4-Cabezas In addition, a social hierarchy organized along racial lines developed and became integrated with the administrative and economic hierarchy. That hierarchy established the level of social mobility in the colonial system (Figure 2). Figure 2 - The Social/Racial Hierarchy of Spanish Colonialism European-born Spaniards - Peninsulares 4-Philippine-born Spaniards - Insulares I Spanish Mestizos I Principalia; Gobernadorcillos; cabezas - Inquilinos 4-Chinese Mestizos - Inquilinos and landowners 4-Chinese retailers-merchants - Chino-Sangley 4-Poor Tenants - Indios 4-Landless Peasants - Indios But the most telling aspect of the changes wrought by the Spanish was not simply the rigidification of the existing social structure according to European notions of power and subordination. More powerful still was the way in which the preexisting social hierarchy was 67 extended far beyond the existing level of the datu to reach a regional, national and global level through municipalities, provinces, colony and the throne of Spain. The scale at which power was exercised had thus been telescoped to the global, with local ruling elites buying into this system because of their vested interest in the consolidation of power and exemption from the duties that the colonists were in a position to insist upon - namely, corvee labour, tribute and forced purchase of agricultural goods. 4.3.3 Religion A defining goal of Spanish colonialism in the Philippines was the conversion of the native population to Catholicism. Even Legazpi had brought a team of Augustinian missionaries for this purpose in 1565 (Caoili, 1988). But the relationship between church and state was a complex one. Under a papal edict of 1508, Pope Alexander VI had granted the Spanish throne the rights of church patron and conferred responsibility for the conversion of natives in the New World. The rights of the patron to appoint bishops and secular priests was not formally a part of this agreement with the Vatican but it became standard practice. This gave considerable influence to the Spanish state in the Philippines and the church was closely implicated in colonial control. The religious orders - Augustinians, Dominicans, Franciscans and Jesuits - however, were less influenced by the crown, a fact which led to frequent disagreements and conflicts (Cushner, 1971). The state was, however, dependent on the missionary orders to extend colonial power into the remote rural areas of the colony and so a balance of power was usually maintained. The evangelization process spread outwards from Manila and extended to Cagayan in the north and Zamboanga in the South. Missionaries used native languages as the medium for teaching the church's doctrines, but limitations of vocabulary meant that Spanish words were used for key theological concepts. The result seems to have been that foreign concepts became incorporated into local understandings but only through those local imaginations. Thus it 68 appears that the native population interpreted the pillars of Catholic theology through the prism of their own worldviews and beliefs. Vincente Rafael (1988) argues that this was particularly true in the case of ideas such as conversion, submission, hierarchy and exchange which were translated by the Spanish through indigenous cultural concepts such as hiya (shame) and utang na loob (debt of gratitude). The result was that "attempts to subordinate Tagalog idioms of reciprocity to Christian concepts were problematic and inconclusive" (Rafael, 1988, 123). Ultimately, then, it seems that Tagalogs and others managed to circumscribe, at least in the early colonial era, the subordination that the Spanish attempted to impose: To the Spanish demand that converts make their bodies speak the language of God, the Tagalog converts responded by performing token payments designed to appease the figure of authority and deflect the force of hierarchy. They eluded the interiorization of the interrogative language of the Law carried by the insistent voice of the dominant other. (Rafael, 1988, 135) The process of conversion was therefore a rather partial one and Christianity was adopted in a form hybridized with local practices. One must be suspicious at the ease with which the Spaniards accumulated both 'sovereignty' and 'converts' to Catholicism. Given the very different understanding of power, authority and spirituality among native people, it seems likely that the easiness of the task reflected the fact that the Spaniards' requirements for pledges of allegiance and faith meant little to the local people. Rafael provides a convincing argument that this is because native notions of a debt of gratitude were based on an ongoing relationship of indebtedness in which the debt is never fully repaid, for example to one's mother. The whole concept of power and subordination is therefore different. Similarly, Rafael points out that the word tauad (or tawad - to bargain, haggle or evade) represents the Tagalog translation of confession or pleading for forgiveness. Clearly the implication is that one bargains with the figure of authority (ultimately, God) for forgiveness and salvation, a notion that would have scandalized the Spanish friars. Several accounts also suggest that worship of ancient gods and the continuation of pagan festivals and rituals was widespread for several centuries after 69 conquest (Cushner, 1971). Even in the late twentieth century, Catholicism has not eradicated apparently incompatible beliefs in witchcraft, spirits and the power of talismans (Lieban, 1967). Like the secular government, the Spanish clergy imposed a particular conception of social hierarchy. Through church administration and theological doctrine, the laity learned that authority resided elsewhere. Starting with local priests the hierarchy spread upwards to bishops and the Archdiocese of Manila but ended with the Spanish crown and the Pope. A n entirely new and 'globalized' hierarchy was imposed upon the native population. In its most insidious form, this hierarchy was evident in the use of language. Rafael notes that while native tongues were used by missionaries, Spanish was retained as an elite language not to be used by locals. Throughout the colonial period, although Spanish words were used in Filipino dialects - most significantly for the holiest of religious concepts that missionaries did not feel could be translated 'downwards' - Spanish remained the language of the elite. Beyond Spanish there was Latin, the language of the senior clergy and learned laity. Thus in both church administration and in cultural translation, an implicit hierarchy was established that placed native ways of life at the bottom and privileged those brought from, and dictated by, the outside. It would perhaps be overstating the point i f this feature of colonialism were too directly linked with contemporary deferral to, and privileging of, Western culture, but it seems that at least some of the current authority that a globalization discourse draws upon consists in the sense of hierarchy established through linguistic, moral and religious aspects of colonialism. 4.3.4 Gender Relations In a process closely linked to the changes occurring in political, economic and spiritual life, gender identities were also being reworked by colonialism. The codification of a pre-existing social structure to comply with more rigid Spanish ideas of social hierarchy led to the exclusion of women from administrative posts. Thus positions from household head to cabeza 70 de barangay to gobernadorcillo were the sole preserve of men. At the same time, the co-optation of male labour left women with greater responsibility in the home and in subsistence production. The private sphere was closed off more tightly from the public, and women were firmly forced into the former. This is not to suggest that gender did not play an important role in defining identities prior to colonization, but the constant implicit inferiority of women was not a characteristic of indigenous gender systems (Eviota, 1992,44). Instead, a complementarity of roles had existed based on gender, and included positions of considerable power for women, for example as babaylanes or spiritual media. Many Spanish ideas regarding gender relations were reflected, and perhaps even rooted, in the nature of femininity propagated by the Catholic church. The image of the Virgin Mary was a powerful one (Marian cults still exist in the Philippines) and defined womanhood through the roles of virtuous handmaid and mother. Thus the identity of Filipina women was emphatically derived from, and practiced in, the home, and was constructed as inferior to their husbands. Additionally, in femininity, as in other aspects of social and economic life, colonialism established a hierarchy. Lower status women would have to work to contribute to the support of their family, as they always had, but a new ideal of femininity became established by Filipina women of greater means. A focus on the home and the family became established as the model of the woman as a bourgeois lady, removed from the public sphere of administration and economics. The embodiment of this model was the figure of Maria Clara, a central character in the novels of Jose Rizal (Eviota, 1992). In the form of Maria Clara, "centuries of economic, political and religious impositions had transformed the lively sexual assertiveness of Filipino women into a more prudish, cautious image of womanhood" (Eviota, 1992, 61). In summary, several points emerge concerning the legacy of Spanish colonialism in the Philippines. Firstly, the experience tightly restricted economic expansion and when resource development did occur it was conducted by European and North American trading houses investing in export commodities. The result was a lasting legacy of dependence on selling 71 primary products in volatile world markets. Secondly, colonialism led to the formation of an elite social class with a vested interest in continued outside involvement. Existing hierarchies were both rigidified and extended to form a social structure that reached ultimately to the Spanish crown as the font of power. Thirdly, the colonial experience produced a profound and yet partial absorption of European practices and beliefs. Finally, the Spanish attempted to establish a cultural hierarchy privileging the outside and foreign. This was evident in religious, racial, gender and linguistic relations. 4.3.5 The Rise of Filipino Nationalism By the late nineteenth century, the commercialization of agriculture and the excesses of the colonial and religious regimes had brought poverty to many areas of the country, and particularly to the more comprehensively colonized area around Manila where estates owned by religious orders kept farmers in a state of tenancy. But rural disaffection alone cannot explain the surge of nationalism and revolt that expelled the Spanish. A rebellion that depended upon the mobilization of the rural and urban masses required more than simply oppressive conditions against which to rally - Spanish rule had been punctuated on several occasions over the centuries by rural unrest and banditry (Sturtevant, 1976). What was needed for successful rebellion was a subversive vocabulary with which to challenge Spanish rule at a conceptual and cultural level. In this sense the seeds of rebellion were sown by the colonial power itself. In the case of largely illiterate rural Filipinos, Ileto (1979) argues that it was the folk Catholicism that emerged from the fusion of evangelization and pre-existing beliefs, especially in the form of Passion plays during Holy Week, that fueled a subversive imagination. The story of Christ's trial and crucifixion became an allegorical folk tale inspiring resistance. Christian teaching had therefore become divorced from church institutions and it was against the latter that much of the rural unrest was focused. At the same time, there were movements, for example that led by Gregorio Aglipay, which sought to establish indigenous churches, and a widespread disaffection with the 72 lack of opportunities provided to Filipino Catholic priests who were being denied parishes controlled by priests from the religious orders (Agoncillo and Alfonso, 1961). While such unrest grew in the middle and late nineteenth century in rural areas, wealthier Filipinos were able to send their children to European universities. There, a new class of Filipino intellectuals, known as ilustrados or enlightened ones, was absorbing liberal ideas and developing a notion of Filipino nationalism in the European sense. Ironically, many of the early Filipino nationalist writings were composed in Barcelona or Madrid (Agoncillo and Alfonso, 1961). The most distinguished of the ilustrados was the polymath Jose Rizal whose novels satirized the pomposity and irrelevance of the Spanish church and colonial regime. The events that led up the rebellion of 1896 were complex but two events served to intensify anti-Spanish and anti-clerical feelings. The first was the execution in 1872 of three Filipino priests who had been advocating the secularization of parishes (that is, their transfer from friars to Filipino priests). Their martyrdom galvanized opposition and when events in the 1890s led to the execution of Jose Rizal in 1896 and the subsequent reign of terror against his associates, a coalition of ilustrados, rural leaders and peasants effectively gained control of much of the country (Steinberg, 1987). The eventual Spanish collapse, however, was related as much to geopolitics as to local resistance. Spanish financial and military resources were concentrated in the war with the United States, which had its focus in Cuba and the Caribbean, rather than on the Philippines. In the conclusion to the war, the fate of the Philippines was sealed in the Treaty of Paris without any Filipinos present. For control of the colony the US government paid $20 million and between 1899 and 1902 waged a brutal repression of Filipino nationalist forces. 4.4 "Hi Joe" - America's Colonial Experiment One consequence of being a Caucasian in the rural Philippines is that one is invariably assumed to be American - a missionary, or perhaps a Peace Corps volunteer. In this way one 73 experiences first hand the ambivalence and complexity of the relationship between the Philippines and the US. While Spanish colonialism lingers as a legacy, American imperialism, even five decades after independence, still reverberates through Filipino life. "Hi Joe, What's your name?" is the customary greeting from Filipino youths to assumed Amerikanos. It immediately suggests certain things about the nature of American colonial rule in the Philippines. Firstly, and most obviously, the greeting is delivered in English, indicating the influence the American regime was able to exert on popular education in the space of a few decades. While the Spanish had retained their language for themselves and for the local elites, the Americans set about developing a comprehensive countrywide education system, and establishing English as the lingua franca of their new territory. American rule likewise left its mark on other areas of public service provision, notably government and healthcare. The friendly familiarity of the greeting also implies a degree of affection for the US. Certainly, the American colonial project is often seen as distinct from others in that from the beginning it was represented as a high-minded, although highly patronizing, presence. But the amiability in the greeting veils a more complex relationship. Often, from adolescents or adults, its tone seems to take on a harsher edge. It implies more a challenge than a salutation. Wil l the 'Amerikano' respond in an equally cheery manner, or will he ignore the greeting and continue, aloof and superior? Wil l he deign to talk, or will he exhibit that superiority that makes him and what he represents so distasteful and yet at the same time so appealing? Such is the ambivalence and complexity in Filipino relations with the West and with the US in particular. Conscious of this complexity, I will highlight three main themes in American colonialism that are germane to this chapter: the forging of economic dependence; the establishment of new political and social structures; and, the reworking of cultural understandings through the educational system. 74 4.4.1 American Colonialism and Economic Dependence The early American regime in the Philippines was keen to divert trade in commodities to the US market, but showed little interest in reshaping the basic structure of its colony's economy (Owen, 1971). Indeed US tariff policy deepened the dependence of the Philippine economy on a small number of agricultural exports. The Payne-Aldrich Tariff Act of 1909 and the Underwood-Simmons Tariff Act of 1913 led to virtually free trade with the continental United States. American manufactured goods were imported duty free and Philippine commodities such as sugar, abaca and coconut oil passed freely into the growing US market. Tariffs were, however, applied to Philippine manufactured exports with more than 20 per cent non-Philippine content. The depression of the 1920s and 1930s changed the economic context of US relations with its colony. Quotas were imposed on agricultural goods such as sugar, cigars, cordage and coconut oil through the Tydings-McDuffie Act of 1934. Beyond these quotas, import duties would be charged. The duty-free quotas were intended to be phased out with the move towards political independence, but in practice lasted until 1974. It is important to recognize that these American policies towards the Philippines were a complex mixture of vested interests and an ingenuous belief that they represented the best interests and will of the Filipino people. The vested interests at work were the lobbies representing American manufacturers and agricultural producers who favoured free export of goods and restricted importation of products respectively, and the Filipino landholding elite who had, by the end of the Spanish period, amassed considerable wealth. The interest of the Filipino elite was in continued access to the immensely profitable US market and these views were heard by the US authorities. They were joined by a growing lobby of American business interests in the Philippines. Given the almost non-existent state of Philippine export manufacturing at that time there was no constituency calling for greater protection from imported manufactured goods. Nor was there any politically powerful voice calling for a more equitable distribution of land holdings. The American ideal of the manifest destiny of frontier expansion and a benign 75 civilizing mission might have underpinned the colonial experiment, but it certainly did not extend to ensuring that the Jeffersonian model of small independent farmers replaced the tenancy model inherited from the Spanish. Even in the case of the appropriated religious estates in Cavite, little was done to prevent them falling into the hands of already powerful local families (Endriga, 1970). What emerges then, is a picture of the American regime motivated by both self interest and altruism. Self interest in ensuring a supply of agricultural commodities and dumping manufactured goods in the Philippines, and altruism in the belief that in doing so they were acting benignly and according to the wishes of the Filipino people. But the Filipino people with a voice were exactly those with a vested interest in the arrangement that developed. Little wonder, then, that many in the Filipino elite saw no particular advantages in seeking independence from the US and that letting go of the 'special relationship' was a slow process. The result was that in the end, US rule had little structural effect on the economy of the Philippines. In the 1890s, as in the 1930s and the 1950s, the economy was characterized by: "[ojverdependence on a few exports, tenantry, indebtedness, low productivity, corruption and inefficiency, undercapitalization, [and] miserable working conditions" (Owen, 1971, 55). In 1946, political independence was granted to a country firmly dependent on agricultural exports, with just four crops accounting for nearly 90 percent of all Philippine exports (as they had in 1894). The profits from such exports - and it was an immensely lucrative trade - were concentrated among a small number of elite families. 4.4.2 Colonial Government and Society A second feature of US colonialism that yielded greater change than economic policy was the nature of political and social organization that was installed. Like the Spanish, the Americans did not neglect to notice that a class structure already existed and they drew upon its upper echelons for government officials. The result was that the voices that the Americans heard were 76 those of the elite. This doesn't necessarily exonerate the American regime from responsibility for the continuing extreme poverty in many parts of the islands. But it goes some way towards explaining why a regime ostensibly based on high-minded ideals could pursue policies so contrary to the interests of so many. In the early years of colonial rule local elections were initiated, in line with the 'enlightened' American mission to train their Filipino counterparts for self-government. But the institution of elected office was grafted onto a circumstance of highly unequal economic and social power relations and an authoritarian political culture. The result was that local democracy served solely to entrench the power of economic elites in the political sphere (Doronila, 1992; Cullinane, 1971). Local political dynasties were able to perpetuate their control with the added legitimacy afforded by 'democratic' principles. Just as had occurred under Spanish rule, local elites were able to use the influence, ideas and institutions of outsiders to entrench their own power. While enfranchising, at least in theory, rural populations, the American political system also made each level of government dependent on higher ones (Lopez, 1966). Just as the Spanish had extended the social and religious hierarchy, so the Americans extended the political pyramid from villages, to municipalities, to provinces, to Manila, and ultimately to Washington. Improvements in communications and transport infrastructure made centralized decision-making feasible and local politicians operated in this system through the centuries-old system of patron-client relationships. 4.4.3 Teaching Modernity Perhaps the most profound impact of American rule in the Philippines was exercised through the educational system. Golay describes the American-staffed public school system as "a tool for communicating the idea of change to the grass roots of Philippine society.... instrumental in intensifying the Western identification of Filipinos who had been bypassed by the 77 Spanish cultural impact (Golay, 1961, 409). School history and culture texts, for example, invariably had (and still largely have) a "they-taught-we-learned" presentation in which the Filipino subject "stands naked and in need of being dressed in foreign gear" (Mulder, 1990, 91). The nationalist historian Renato Constantino goes further and suggests that education was a key tool of American colonialism. In a 1966 article entitled 'The Miseducation of the Filipino' he argues that the purpose of the public school system was to train Filipinos to be good colonial subjects, conforming to American ideals: The new Filipino generation learned of the lives of American heroes, sang American songs, and dreamt of snow and Santa Claus. The nationalist resistance leaders... were regarded as brigands and outlaws. The lives of Philippine heroes were taught but their nationalist teachings were glossed over. (Constantino, 1966, reprinted in Schirmer and Shalom, 1987, 47) According to Constantino, the impact of this sort of cultural indoctrination was also felt in the economic sphere. He argues that a generation grew up with a perception of their country based on bucolic rural imagery, for example in the landscape paintings of Amorsolo. This imbued a belief that the Philippines was essentially an agricultural country and destined to remain so. Consumption habits, meanwhile, became oriented towards American manufactured products and the implication of foreign superiority was subtly inculcated: "Our books extolled the Western nations as peopled by superior beings because they were capable of manufacturing things that we never thought we were capable of producing" (Constantino, 1966, reprinted in Schirmer and Shalom, 1987, 48-9). In summary, the results of American colonialism were the continued dependence of the Philippine economy on agricultural exports and its domination by an elite landholding oligarchy that had enjoyed a deepening of their control and its legitimation through democratic processes. Thus US power fed into local networks of power. More insidiously, US rule saw a cultural orientation towards the West in identifying modernization as desirable and in defining its 78 direction. The centralization of political power and the establishment of a public school system, notwithstanding the high ideals of many involved, played an important role in colonizing consciousness. What is now popularly referred to as 'colonial mentality' in the Philippines, together with the difficulties in fostering a nationalist vision of development, can be attributed in part to this legacy. 4.5 The Post-colonial State Philippine independence in 1946 represented the culmination of a planned transfer of sovereignty starting in 1935 with a Commonwealth government, but interrupted by a destructive wartime occupation by Japanese forces (1942-45). In the years after 1946, as in the years before, American commitment to political self-determination for its former colony was notably higher than to ensuring economic autonomy for the Philippines (Doronila, 1992, 19). Perhaps because independence was achieved without the 'clean break' of a revolutionary struggle, American influence continued to be exercised in a variety of spheres. Studies of US involvement in the Philippine political economy provide detailed accounts of the postwar period (for example, Doronila, 1992; Hawes, 1987; Boyce, 1993; Cullather, 1994). Rather than attempting to provide a comprehensive summary of this literature here, I will use the case of trade and industrial policy to highlight the continuation of a negotiated relationship between the Philippine political economy and outside influences. Independence had been legislated by the Tydings-McDuffie Act of 1935 in the US Congress, that allowed for a ten year transition in which preferential trading arrangements would end on July 4th 1946. Wartime destruction and the decimation of the Philippine economy, however, led to a reassessment of the situation in the form of the Bell Trade Act of 1946 which was to establish the trading relationship between the two countries for the subsequent 28 years. It dictated free trade until 1954, followed by a gradual increase in tariffs until 1973, when full duties would be imposed. In addition, the Philippines could not impose taxes on exports to the 79 US, absolute quotas were established on seven important Philippine commodity exports, and the peso exchange rate was fixed to the dollar. Finally, the Act required the Philippines to extend parity rights to US nationals in resource exploitation activities and public utilities (Doronila, 1992). The result of these conditions was to establish a postwar economy that retained its dependence on agricultural commodity export, to continue the dominance of Philippine politics by the landed oligarchy, to ensure US control over significant areas of the economy, and, finally, to allow the US some powerful economic sanctions with which to exercise its influence as political and military 'patron'. It was in this capacity that the US was able to insist on a Military Bases Agreement in 1947 that allowed a continued military presence in the islands. Given the terms of trade under which the country operated, it was inevitable that a foreign exchange crisis would be precipitated eventually. In 1948, the Philippine government persuaded Harry Truman to assent to exchange and import controls in the form of Republic Act 330, The Import Control Act. Controls were intensified during the 1950s to become an instrument for an import substitution industrialization (ISI) programme (Doronila, 1992). This was less an example of altruism on the part of the US than a reflection of the fragility of the new Philippine state that the Americans worried would collapse and fall into the hands of the communist Huk rebels who were then riding on a wave of rural unrest (Kerkvliet, 1977). Just months before, tumultuous events in China had jolted American policy makers, and they hoped that the Philippines would serve as an example of 'moderate nationalism' in opposition to communism (Doronila, 1992). In achieving some level of economic autonomy, then, the Philippine state was able to play on wider geopolitical concerns. In addition to quota limits on imports, new import substitution industries enjoyed tax exemptions, liberal credit facilities, and windfall profits due to the over-valued pesos but the programme also provided opportunities for political patronage in the allocation of foreign exchange licences and incentives. A predominantly agricultural economy became reoriented towards packaging, assembly and light manufacturing, with the share of manufacturing in net GDP rising from 10.7 per cent in 1948 to 17.9 per cent in 1960 (Doronila, 1992, 55). 80 The dominance of export producers, such as sugar planters, was clearly compromised by the ISI programme and several writers frame this period as one of diversification in the Philippine social structure as it divided along sectoral and ethnic lines (Hawes, 1987; Rivera, 1994; Yoshihara, 1985). The economic interests of the elite landowning class, mostly Spanish Creoles or Chinese mestizos, became widened to include entrepreneurial manufacturing in the import substitution sector. But the ISI sector also included two other domestic groups. With the passing of the Retail Trade Nationalization in 1953, Chinese entrepreneurs were banned from a sector they had dominated and began to move their capital into manufacturing enterprises. 'Malay Filipinos', meanwhile were also entering the manufacturing sector and taking advantage of preferential access to government resources and privileges (Yoshihara, 1985; Rivera, 1994). Foreign interests, notably American, also entered the domestic manufacturing sector to take advantage of favourable economic opportunities. These interests, benefiting from production behind the new trade barriers, moved away from a political orientation in favour of free trade. At the same time as it satisfied these economic constituencies, the ISI programme also went some way towards meeting the demands of a growing nationalist movement in the country led by politicians and intellectuals such as Claro Recto and Jose Diokno. There was thus both a political and a transnational economic coalition of interests behind import substitution. By the late 1950s, however, a slowdown in growth occurred as the marginal returns from local assembly of 'knocked-down' manufactured goods began to diminish. A balance of payments crisis also emerged due to the import of machinery, raw materials, tools, parts etc. by ISI industries (Ofreneo, 1995). These circumstances started to increase pressure on the government to move away from trade and exchange controls. But the national and transnational coalition supporting ISI had already grown politically powerful. Thus when decontrol was initiated in 1962 by a newly elected President Macapagal, it was a piecemeal process that represented a compromise between interests. Macapagal had stood on an electoral platform of free enterprise and was under political pressure from the US via the IMF, which was responding to the interests of its export sector. As a result of this external pressure, the peso was devalued 81 and the system of exchange controls was dismantled, but Macapagal was able to assure the business community that they would still be afforded some protection by a tariff system (Doronila, 1992, 66). Some writers characterize this compromise as having been hammered out between rival groups, but as Rivera (1994) demonstrates, the dominance of elite landed families continued into the manufacturing sector. Thus the conflict was between vested interests of the same groups, rather than between different groups. Over the subsequent decade of prevarication, a class of professional technocrats emerged with increasing influence. Most notably, the conservative economist Gerardo Sicat was developing a critique of protectionist policies and arguing for the depression of wages to promote industrial expansion, rather than policies of import control. Sicat was later to become an influential member of President Marcos' economic staff and his ideas were largely implemented in the 1970s (Doronila, 1992). Technocrats such as Sicat were not, however, gaining increasing influence simply through the merits of their arguments. During the 1960s the political climate was changing. The oligarchy that had dominated the political and economic life of the country was starting to experience a 'breakdown of cohesion' (Hawes, 1987, 36). The Philippines' foreign exchange crisis in the late 1950s had led to IMF involvement in the economy in the form of policy prescriptions and financial assistance, although first hand accounts suggest that the IMF agenda was being driven largely by US interests (Doronila, 1992, 114). The shift from bilateral relations with the US to dealing with the multilateral international financial institutions was a significant change in the Philippine political context. As Doronila points out: Against these international and domestic contexts of change, the Philippines' decision to end the regime of controls meant more than a change in strategy to revive the stagnating economy. The policy change opened the Philippines to more diversified sources of intervention in the economy. It broke ground for the introduction of institutions and processes which were to make an impact on the domestic political scene. (Doronila, 1992, 116) The rising fortunes of Filipino technocrats were one result of this changing context, but despite their preference for an export oriented strategy of development, economic policy during the 82 1960s remained essentially based on import substitution. Although the peso was devalued and exchange controls were relaxed, tariffs were increased, and tax exemptions and cheap credit were still provided to domestic industry. A significant lesson to be drawn from this is that competing policy prescriptions were played out through the political culture of the Philippine state in a distinctive way. Macapagal was able to garner US and IMF support by devaluing the peso, and yet at the same time, other political pressures meant the retention of many elements of the ISI programme. Eventually, however, this balancing act proved impossible to sustain and a deteriorating economy and further balance of payments crisis saw deepening involvement from the international financial institutions, particularly the IMF. In addition, a growing constituency of US and Filipino export producers were looking for a more favorable business climate. Thus under Ferdinand Marcos in the late 1960s legislation started to appear that began the process of constructing an export oriented industrial (EOI) development programme: the Investment Incentives Act of 1967 (RA 5186), establishing the Board of Investments and giving preference to investors going into export-oriented production; the Export Incentives Act of 1970 (RA 6135), giving additional incentives to export producers; and the Foreign Business Relations Act of 1970 (RA 5455), that removed restrictions on the repatriation of profits (Ofreneo, 1995). The decisive factor, however, in establishing an export-oriented industrial policy in the early 1970s was the declaration of martial law by Marcos in 1972. The abolition of Congress, and the suppression of labour organizations and dissident intellectuals enabled the President to give his technocrats a free hand in reorienting the economy. But Marcos was careful, even in declaring martial law, to ensure the support of the US government and the IMF. Numerous accounts indicate that he first sought, and received, assurances that such an action would receive no condemnation or retribution from his allies in Washington (Bonner, 1987). In fact, martial law was received with considerable enthusiasm in some quarters. The American Chamber of Commerce in the Philippines sent Marcos the following telegram a few days after martial law was declared: 83 The American Chamber of Commerce wishes you every success in your endeavours to restore peace and order, business confidence, economic growth and the well being of the Filipino people and nation. We assure you of our confidence and cooperation in achieving these objectives. We are communicating these feelings to our associates and affiliates in the United States. (Reproduced in Schirmer and Shalom, 1987, p230) In the 1970s, Philippine development policy became increasingly oriented towards export production, but the politics of this period are complex. Several different themes have been emphasized in coming to terms with the forces at work in the Philippine political economy at that time. Some choose to portray the period in terms of an emergent transnational technocracy in support of an export-oriented industrialization strategy. Thus there was a domestic, though often foreign trained, technocratic corps whose thinking reflected that of officials with the IMF and World Bank. The constant need for support from these institutions meant that such policies could be forced upon the Philippine government, or rather the constituency within the government in favour of such policies could be strengthened (Broad, 1988). Another point of view would emphasize the role of economic interests in shaping policy. Domestic and foreign export manufacturers clearly had a strong interest in the sorts of incentives being offered, and producers of primary export commodities favoured a weak peso. Both sectors wished to see a close linking of the domestic economy with international capital flows, but at the same time, the domestic 'merchant class' retained certain elements of a self-interested protectionist position (Koppel, 1990). Yet another approach is to view the emergence of an EOI regime in terms of the personalized brand of political economy that became predominant during Marcos' martial law regime. Modelled after Korean chaebols or Japanese zaibatsu, Marcos attempted to create agro-industrial conglomerates that would lead the way for Philippine products in the global economy (Ofreneo, 1980; Hawes, 1987). Heading these organizations were close friends and relatives of the President. Supporting the economy, and disguising the system's inefficiencies and corruption, was the flow of money coming from the IMF. This source of outside funding enabled the President and his 'cronies' to insulate themselves effectively from the opposition of those families who were not within his circle of influence and patronage. Added to this was the 84 continued military, political and financial support being provided by the US. But it is important to note the subtlety with which Marcos managed these outside supporters. While US influence was considerable, Marcos could play a power game in which he emphasized the threat of communist insurgency and played on American fears of losing a non-communist foothold in the region. At the same time, the IMF continued, in a sense, to fool itself that Marcos was implementing the sort of reforms they wanted through the good offices of like-minded technocrats. Marcos was indeed employing a rhetoric that was pleasing to international financial institutions, but in practice the economy was far from an undistorted free market. It was dominated by monopoly marketing boards for export commodities and 'cronies' eliciting preferential treatment from the government. Gary Hawes emphasizes the highly political nature of Marcos' rule: Ferdinand Marcos, unlike the international actors who supported the Philippine state, was always clear that his interests were not completely synonymous with those of the multinationals, or the US government, or the World Bank/IMF group. His primary goal was to remain in office.... As long as Marcos remained president, he was able to use the coercive and administrative organizations of the state to his own end. He threatened, bluffed and took action whenever possible to see that, while he followed the prescribed path to development, while he enlarged the role that foreign investors could play, he did nothing to endanger his own continued rule. (Hawes, 1987, 152-3) Marcos' politicization of the economy also provided a tool with which to deal blows to his political enemies. Some of the wealthiest families in the country, most notably the Lopez clan of Negros, were ostracized on account of the political rivalry with Marcos (McCoy, 1994b). Many took refuge abroad, but those who stayed were prevented from taking a leading role in investing in domestic industry. Marcos could do this because foreign rather than domestic capital was the major source of investment generation in the country, allowing him a certain insulation from the landed oligarchs who had dominated the economy to that point. The result, however, of the foreign capital influx in the 1970s, particularly from multilateral agencies, was the accumulation of massive debts (Koppel, 1990). 85 The unviability of this economic structure meant that the government was continually dependent on flows of credit from the IMF and the World Bank. As a result, the policy prescriptions of these institutions became more deeply entrenched, especially as the World Bank started to attach conditions to its loans under the Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) established in the late 1970s (Bello et al. 1982; Broad, 1988). The SAP dealt some heavy blows to domestic industry at a time when worldwide recession was also undermining the markets for export commodities. The result was a deep recession in the Philippines and growing social unrest. The assassination of the opposition leader, Benigno Aquino, in 1983 added to the sense of political crisis and eventually resulted in the 'EDS A ' revolution of February 1986 in which his widow, Corazon Aquino, was swept to power. Even in his final days in office Marcos was playing on US relations and employing his international connections to attempt to stay in office. His final departure was in a US Navy helicopter. Before discussing the post-Marcos political economy of the Philippines, some general points can be made concerning the ways in which the preceding discussion connects which the broader themes raised in this chapter. They apply explicitly to the Marcos regime, but as Doronila shows, the tendencies which Marcos took to extremes were already well established in the post-independence Philippine state (Doronila, 1992). The first point concerns the balance of power between internal and external forces in determining economic policy. Foreign influences have always represented one set of actors playing roles of varying importance on a Philippine stage, but those directing the production remain domestic players. It is misleading to portray this relationship, as it has often been portrayed, as neo-imperialism on the part of the US and multilateral banks - their role has always been mediated by, and dependent upon, a certain constituency of technocrats and vested interests within the Philippines. Equally, however, it would be incorrect to imply that these institutions were in any sense impotent in their dealings with domestic politics. Marcos was a powerful phenomenon and while sometimes impervious to the wishes of his international supporters, he 86 was ultimately dependent on them. These supporters provided economic aid to 'insulate' the regime from civil society, but also lent ideological support, legitimacy, prestige and military aid to the Philippine government. The relationship between the Philippine state and its international context is therefore a complex dialectic of agency and dependency. A second point that emerges is the highly personalized nature of politics in the Philippines, even at the highest levels. As Rivera (1994) points out, little can be understood of the post war Philippine political economy without reference to the web of connections that joins certain groups of families and divides others. In attempting to characterize the Philippine political economy many have employed the 'patron-client' metaphor to indicate the nature of cultural understandings that underpin personal loyalties and a 'moral economy' of political largesse (Hollnsteiner, 1963). Recently, the notion of 'bossism' has been suggested as a more accurate portrayal of the realities of political-economic power at provincial and national scales (Sidel, 1995; McCoy, 1994a). Thirdly, various overlapping interest groups form the cast of actors who compete to define political priorities. Classifications are numerous but they include: Chinese capitalists / ISI bourgeoisie / local landlord class / foreign capitalists (Rivera, 1994); mercantile state / merchant capital / land-owning class / international capital (Koppel, 1990); domestic Chinese capital / Filipino capital / foreign capital (Yoshihara, 1985); state capitalists / crony capitalists / domestic market bourgeoisie / export market bourgeoisie (Hawes, 1987). Each of these categories might be broken down further, and others might be added (for example, Filipino technocrats from the 1960s onwards), but the important point to note is the cultural, ethnic and political complexity of the Philippine economy. Each change in the direction of development strategy has been derived from struggles within and between these groups as they try to define their best interest and attempt to ensure that it is acted upon. The outcome of these struggles is thus a mixture of structural conditions, institutional constraints, economic sociology and individual agency. Over the last ten years the result of such a mix of factors has been the formation of a solid coalition espousing the importance and even inevitability of orienting the 87 state's development strategy towards attracting investment and promoting export-oriented development. 4.6 Contemporary Philippine Development In retrospect, the lasting achievement of the Aquino government was to reestablish democratic processes in the Philippine political system and to go some way towards restoring international confidence in the government. But the 'People Power' revolution of 1986 did not produce the sort of social justice agenda for which many of its participants had hoped. Instead, many of the same figures continued in power, and in a sense the events following the EDSA uprising represented a reversion to the old system of landed oligarchs that Marcos had gone some way towards undermining (Anderson, 1988). Elections for local governments and Congress in 1988 returned most of the Marcos era caciques to power and Congress was overwhelmingly dominated by landed elites (Guttierez, 1993). Despite distortions in the democratic process, Aquino maintained a fervent faith in its sanctity and so failed to use her extensive administrative powers to act on social reform in 1986-88. Thus, for example, agrarian reform was deferred to a Congress dominated by land owners and its redistributive component was comprehensively undermined (Riedinger, 1995). Aquino's government was constantly under threat from a restless army and survived numerous coup attempts, while trying to contain the insurgency movement organized by the New People's Army. These military threats, combined with economic fragility meant continued reliance on political and economic support from the US and multilateral institutions. The government therefore continued to profess a neoliberal economic framework of faithful debt servicing, reduced expenditure, deregulation and export-oriented development. The Ramos government (1992-98) has persisted with these policies, achieving considerable success in establishing political stability through closer control over the military, an 88 amnesty for rebels and negotiated peace with the NPA, and settlements with Muslim secessionists in Mindanao. Since 1992 economic indicators have portrayed a booming economy as foreign investments flow inward and exports expand. The wisdom of the development orthodoxy is now firmly entrenched among conservative Philippine economists and government officials (Balisacan, 1994; Habito, 1993). Chapter 5 will outline the ways in which the Philippine government has gone about realizing such a strategy over the last few years. 4.7 Constructing Global Imaginaries What can be gleaned from this selective precis of Philippine history? Firstly, it is evident that an economy and cultural consciousness oriented towards globalization can be traced to the legacies of colonial rule. In a variety of ways both Spanish and American regimes fostered an economy geared towards the export of primary commodities and the import of manufactured goods. Meanwhile, Filipinos were inundated with social and cultural hierarchies culminating not locally but in Madrid, Rome or Washington, and with images of the West as superior. A l l conducive cultural groundwork, as Constantino argues, for a development policy agenda dominated by the privileging of the global scale. At one level, then, the historical account in this chapter suggests some of the foundations of a contemporary political discourse predicated on globalization. But other themes also emerge that are germane to the key arguments outlined in chapters 1 and 2. First, in addition to dependent trade and 'colonial mentality', a significant legacy of colonialism was an entrenched social structure, latterly legitimized by democratic processes and based on land ownership. Throughout the colonial period, precisely because they derived their wealth and prestige from it, this oligarchy of families carried a vested interest in the type of 89 economy being established. Thus the globalization of the Philippines was not simply by colonial fiat, but was achieved with the collaboration of the local elite. Indeed a recurrent theme is the appropriation of outside power for domestic interests in the Philippines. In the second half of the twentieth century the social structure and economic interests of the domestic elite became more complex, but still development policy was defined through an articulation between outside influences and domestic political-economic interests. At a national level, then, the roots of globalization must be viewed as embedded in 'local' power relations rather than just the power of the outside actor. 90 CHAPTER FIVE PHILIPPINE INDUSTRIALIZATION: POLICY, PERFORMANCE & PLACE 5.1 Introduction I have argued that over the last few decades the Philippines' "place in the world" has been constructed from within a national and international arena of political contestation. The result of these struggles has emerged as an emphasis on a 'globalized' model of development in which growth is predicated upon foreign investment flows and export-oriented industrialization. Meanwhile the agricultural sector is becoming increasingly geared towards agri-business production, and national food security is declining. This chapter explores the results of the globalized model of development in terms of government policies, economic performance and the geography of economic development. The first half of the chapter focuses on the translation of the 'globalization' model into policies employed by the Philippine government, and the performance of these policies in terms of industrial growth. The discussion is divided into two periods: 1966-1986, and 1986-1996. For each period I describe: the policy instruments used in promoting industrial development; the less tangible appeals to global capital in the form of'place marketing' campaigns; and, the performance of industrial development. The data presented suggest that the Philippine economy has become increasingly dependent on foreign capital and on export-oriented industries. It is also evident that such capital is highly vulnerable to domestic political conditions (i.e. stability) and to world economic cycles. In the second half of the chapter I examine the spatial dimensions of economic policy, arguing that the 'globalized' model of development has resulted in an economic geography of industrialization characterized by a spatial concentration in the existing core region around Manila, and particularly in its adjacent provinces. The locations referred to in this and subsequent chapters are featured in Maps 1 and 2. Map 1 - The Philippines 120'T-Northern I Luzon 1 Baguio Ci EPZ I5"N China Sea - 1 0 ° N - 5 ° N Metro Manila (National Capital Region) Philippine Sea 120°I I 125°E I Map 2 - Calabarzon Area 93 5.2 The Emergence of Export-Oriented Development 1966-86 5.2.1 Policies Early efforts at export promotion included the various pieces of legislation mentioned in the last chapter: the Investment Incentives Act of 1967 (Republic Act 5186); the Export Incentives Act of 1970 (RA 6135); and the Foreign Business Relations Act of 1970 (RA 5455) (Ofreneo, 1995). The incentives provided by these policies are summarized in Appendix E. The Board of Investments, established by the 1967 legislation, offered a broad range of tax incentives to export producers including tax credits on raw materials and imported capital equipment. The Export Incentives Act extended these benefits with a ten year tax holiday on most materials and capital goods used in manufacturing and processing. These incentives were largely designed to match those offered elsewhere in East Asia. Strategies employed by Taiwan and South Korea, in particular, provided models for several policy initiatives in the early years of the Marcos government. A particularly successful example of foreign investment and export promotion was found in the export processing zone (EPZ) established in Kaoshiung, Taiwan in 1965 (Guerrero et al. 1987). The Taiwanese zone provided infrastructure and incentives for global capital spreading towards the periphery under the 'new international division of labour' and became a model of 'open' development among international institutions such as the UNIDO, U N C T A D and World Bank. In 1969 President Marcos established the Philippines' first EPZ (through R A 5490) in the town of Mariveles on the mountainous Bataan peninsula northwest of Manila. Insufficient funds and support hampered initial development of the site and only when martial law was declared in 1972 did further development occur. With Marcos fully in control, and with his team of technocrats able to implement their strategies unhindered for the first time, Presidential Decree 66 established the Export Processing Zones Authority to oversee Bataan and to develop other zones elsewhere in the country. The Mactan EPZ, near Cebu City in the Visayas, was designated at the request of the local government and established in 1978 (Guerrero, 1987; Chant and Mcllwaine, 1995). 94 The Baguio City EPZ in northern Luzon followed in 1979 (PD 1825), but the impetus in this case came largely from the US semiconductor manufacturer Texas Instruments. The Cavite EPZ, just to the south of Manila was designated in 1980 under Presidential Decrees 1980 and 2017, and construction started in 1981 (McAndrew, 1994). By locating in these zones, firms were eligible to benefit from a variety of financial incentives, simplified regulatory frameworks, and established infrastructure and services. The more concerted focus of the Marcos regime, however, was on the export of primary commodities through monopoly marketing boards (Hawes, 1987). Establishing state corporations to export coconuts, sugar and fruit products, satisfied several goals: firstly, export conglomerates were intended to play a role similar to that of the industrial chaebols in Korea by participating in a diverse range of activities but with commodity export as their base; secondly, by taking a firm grip on the agricultural export sector, Marcos was able to control the source of wealth on which many of his opponents in the landed oligarchy depended (in addition, the suspension of the Congress, which they had dominated, effectively curtailed their formal political influence); finally, control over the export conglomerates provided lucrative patronage appointments for loyal supporters. Despite an avowed belief in export promotion, the 1970s also saw a continued adherence to some aspects of import substitution strategies due to local political expediencies (Ofreneo, 1995). Examples included regulations concerning the nationality of ownership in certain sectors of the economy and tariff protection for certain goods. The development of the auto industry in the Philippines illustrates this synthesis of conflicting policy directions. The Progressive Car Manufacturing Plan, initiated in 1973, sought to rationalize the Philippine auto industry which, to that point, had been characterized by the import of Complete Knocked-Down (CKD) units for local assembly (in 1968 there were 19 such assemblers). The government invited bids for membership in the Plan which would allow for just two manufacturers, but due to intense 95 lobbying by the industry this was finally increased to five (Tolentino and Ybanez, 1983).23 The Plan provided a framework that essentially encouraged import substitution and export simultaneously. Local assemblers were required to meet a specific local content quota, but at the same time, this quota could be written off by export receipts. In the event, many firms bypassed the regulations by importing the parts they needed and avoiding penalties by contracting trading companies to export other products in their name. In this way, the 1970s saw General Motors exporting furniture and Toyota shipping shrimp from the Philippines (Doner, 1991; 1992). The PCMP was a failure in terms of technology transfer and industrial linkages, and by the mid-1980s most of the participants had withdrawn from local production. The program is illustrative, however, both of the ambivalence in economic policy with respect to export versus import-substitution strategies, and of the context of domestic politics and personal patronage that characterized economic policy in the 1970s. 5.2.2 Place Marketing In addition to fiscal and regulatory incentives aimed at foreign investment and export promotion, the Marcos government also embarked upon aggressive marketing campaigns to represent the country as a 'desirable' node in the global matrix of travel and investment opportunities. A few months after martial law was declared in 1972, Fortune magazine carried the following advertisement placed by the Philippine government: To attract yours... we have razed mountains, felled jungles, filled swamps, moved rivers, relocated towns, and in their place built power plants, dams, roads... an executive centre and a luxury hotel. A l l to make it easier for you and your business to do business here. And we've done more. Much more.2 4 2 3 The Ford Motor Company was particularly aggressive in lobbying to keep its Philippine operations, sending Christina Ford to intercede with Imelda Marcos, and promising to invest in the Mariveles EPZ. 2 4 Advertisement in Fortune Magazine, 12th October, 1972. 96 This piece was specifically directed towards potential investors in the Bataan EPZ, but advertisements in subsequent years emphasized the country's broader appeal and reiterated the government's willingness to put in place everything necessary to satisfy foreign capital: Recent Presidential decrees have simplified conciliation and arbitration of labour disputes (both strikes and lockouts are prohibited), lifted work restrictions on Sundays and holidays, liberalized the employment of women and children, and expanded the scope of the apprenticeship program. Labour costs for the foreign company setting up plant in Manila could work out from 35 to 50 percent lower than they would be in either Hongkong or Singapore... The country is lovely. And loaded. Beneath the tropical landscapes of our 7,000 islands lies a wealth of natural resources... (New York Times, July 28th, 1974, cited in Schirmer and Shalom, 1987, 227) At the same time the government, largely through the activities of Imelda Marcos in her capacity as Governor of Metro Manila, pushed through a variety of urban mega-projects in a successful attempt to attract high-profile world events, such as the 1974 Miss Universe beauty pageant and the 1976 IMF/World Bank conference. The purpose was to establish Manila as a 'world-class' city. Most infamous among these projects were the concrete modernist monuments constructed on reclaimed land in Manila Bay: the Philippine International Convention Centre, the Folk Arts Theatre, the National Film Centre and the Cultural Centre of the Philippines (Pinches, 1994). 5.2.3 Performance As the example of the Progressive Car Manufacturing Plan suggested, the government's inclinations towards free trade in the 1970s were always tempered by self-interest and domestic politics. The choice of Bataan as a location for the first Export Processing Zone was a classic piece of personalized politics. At the tip of a mountainous peninsula, the site had no obvious locational advantages, except that it served to benefit a close Marcos ally in whose political bailiwick the project was located (Guerrero et al., 1987). By the end of the 1970s, it became clear that the zone was not performing as expected. Between 1972 and 1977, 91 per cent of total investment in the Bataan zone was from domestic, not foreign sources (Warr, 1984). The 97 maximum number of companies operating in the zone at any one time was 56, but turnover was rapid and between 1972 and 1985, 45 enterprises pulled out (Guerrero et al., 1987). Other zones did not fare much better. By 1986, the Baguio, Mactan and Cavite zones together housed just 19 firms and employed less than 8,000 workers. In the period 1973-1978, EPZs accounted for just 1.6 per cent of foreign investments and by 1979-1984 this had fallen to 1.3 per cent (Guerrero et al., 1987, 36). Table 1 shows the trend in EPZ employment levels over the course of their existence. Table 1 - Employment Generation in Philippine Export Processing Zones, 1973-95 Year Bataan Baguio City Mactan Cavite Special EZs 1973 1,298 na na na 0 1974 3,321 na na na 0 1975 5,502 na na na 0 1976 8,962 na na na 0 1977 12,821 na na na 0 1978 17,495 na na na 0 1979 18,877 na na na 0 1980 19,204 637 1,185 0 0 1981 19,858 753 1,135 0 0 1982 19,410 1,175 1,778 0 0 1983 19,573 1,466 2,087 0 0 1984 21,616 2,560 3,826 0 0 1985 18,068 3,229 3,243 0 0 1986 16,540 3,583 3,528 99 0 1987 14,530 4,081 4,130 96 0 1988 13,639 4,412 5,763 528 0 1989 13,802 5,114 9,395 3,294 16 1990 13,919 4,476 11,624 5,239 0 1991 14,586 3,934 12,819 11,872 22 1992 15,198 3,206 15,038 20,204 1,141 1993 15,649 3,066 18,901 25,924 5,843 1994 16,582 3,159 26,221 35,637 10,261 1995 - - - 38,264 -Sources: Export Processing Zones Authority, unpublished data, 1995; Warr, 1984,1985; Province of Cavite, unpublished industrial data. 98 The export processing zones were also disappointing in terms of their local multiplier effects. Data for the Bataan EPZ indicate that domestic raw material usage in 1982 amounted to only 2.9 million pesos - compared with administrative costs for the zone in the same year of 23.5 million pesos (Warr, 1985). For the Bataan EPZ, Warr concludes that "far fewer firms located in the zone than were expected and the form of development which did occur promoted neither economic development nor economic welfare" (Warr, 1985, 43). Figure 3 includes data on foreign and domestic investment outside of the EPZs for the period until the end of Marcos' rule in 1986. Except for a period of expansion in the early 1980s, investment under incentives programmes was also disappointingly low. This can, in part, be attributed to global economic conditions in the mid- and late-1970s that significantly reduced both investment from, and market demand in, North America, Europe and Japan (McAndrew, 1994). But the decline in foreign investment from 1983 to 1986 suggests the impact of domestic political circumstances. International confidence in the Marcos regime gradually ebbed following the assassination of Senator Benigno Aquino in 1983 and the realization of a deep crisis of foreign indebtedness. As figure 4 shows, this period was also one of declining trade with the value of exports almost unchanged between 1980 ad 1986. Other indicators also tell a story of relative economic stasis in the 1970s and early 1980s. Figure 6 shows a declining trend in GDP growth between the mid-1970s and the mid-1980s, including dramatic contractions in 1984 and 1985 of about 8 per cent in each successive year. These figures were further compounded by a consistently high rate of population growth. If the authoritarian years are compared with those preceding them, GNP per capita per year exhibited a 3.1 per cent expansion in 1962-1974, but only 1.0 per cent over the subsequent 12 years (Boyce, 1993, 23). Estimates of the proportion of the population below the poverty line suggest an incidence of 43.8 per cent in 1971 increasing to 58.9 percent by 1985 (Boyce, 1993,46). 99 5.3 Post-Marcos Industrial Strategies, 1986-1996 5.3.1 Policies The establishment of a new administration under Corazon Aquino resulted in a variety of policy initiatives that firmly focused the government's agenda on attracting foreign investment and encouraging export production (Ferreria et al., 1993). In 1987, the Omnibus Investments Code (Executive Order 226) reworked the financial and regulatory incentives for those establishing manufacturing activities, regional headquarters or warehousing facilities in the Philippines. The code established the current framework in which foreign and domestic investments in 'priority' and export sectors are provided with incentives by the Board of Investments or the Export Processing Zones Authority. The Foreign Investments Act (RA 7042) of 1991 extended regulatory leeway for investors by allowing total foreign ownership of companies except in a few strategic areas. The Act also reduces regulatory control over foreign enterprises that are not receiving incentives, allowing them to be wholly foreign owned, and permits export enterprises receiving incentives to sell up to 40 per cent of production in the domestic market. A further component of the government's investment incentive framework is the 'Build-Operate-Transfer' (BOT) scheme (RA 7718). Under the scheme, a contractor constructs, operates and maintains a facility for an agreed period of time during which they may charge user fees to recover investment and operating expenses. The facility is then transferred to government ownership. Major projects such as power plants, roads and Manila's Light Rail Transit system have been financed in this way. The four established export processing zones continue to offer financial benefits, regulatory incentives, land and utilities to export producers but they have been supplemented in the last few years by a variety of Special Economic Zones and private Industrial Estates that share some of the same privileges. In 1995 the Export Processing Zones Authority was 100 reconstituted as the Philippine Economic Zones Authority to reflect this broadening mandate (RA7916). A variety of regional centres and growth areas have also been incorporated into the national government's industrial promotion strategy. The Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority, for example, has created a significant centre for investment using the infrastructure from the Subic Bay US naval base that closed in 1991. Other more dispersed growth corridors/areas have been established with integrated planning frameworks to foster industrial growth. An example is the East Asian Growth Area (EAGA), incorporating Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. The E A G A adopts the 'growth polygon' model to bring together capital and other factors of production in a free trade zone, in this case focused on Davao City on Mindanao (Turner, 1995). Another example is the Calabarzon area (see Map 2), incorporating the provinces of Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, Rizal and Quezon, which has a coordinating council and a physical framework plan to channel foreign assistance and investment into local infrastructure. These explicitly spatial development frameworks will be discussed in more detail later. Since 1992, the Ramos administration has maintained the Aquino government's commitment to export-led growth and has moved in several ways to extend the incentives offered to foreign investors and exporters. The Export Development Act of 1994 (RA 7844), styled as the "Magna Carta for Exporters," was implemented from the beginning of 1995. In a preamble, the Act dictates that: The State shall instill in the Filipino people that exporting is not just a sectoral concern but the key to national survival and the means through which the economic goals of increased employment and enhanced incomes can most expeditiously be achieved.25 In support of the legislation, the Speaker of the House of Representatives wrote: It is no coincidence that South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand and other Newly Industrializing Countries which have grown continuously at an average rate of 7% or more, are all export-oriented economies. As I have said, "we produce or we Cited in Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 8th 1995, BIO. 101 perish, we export or we die" is now an accepted principle that we must seriously consider in the great saga to push the Philippine economy forward.26 The Act reduces the proportion of an 'export' firm's output that must be exported to 50 per cent, thus allowing more companies to claim the set of incentives offered. These incentives include duty free importation of capital goods and tax credits for imported raw materials and inputs and to reward increases in export revenues (see Appendix E). A similar piece of legislation to foster foreign investment is currently being considered by Congress. Deregulation and liberalization policies in the banking, oil and retail sectors form further components of the government's investment promotion agenda, all of which have drawn praise from multilateral financial institutions and creditors.27 These various programmes are coordinated through the government's Medium Term Philippine Development Plan, 1993-98, (MTPDP) but the galvanizing slogan for the programme of reforms has been the President's 'Philippines 2000' vision - the ambitious goal of becoming a TSfewly Industrialized Country' (NIC) by the year 2000. The plan contains many laudable goals -including a stated commitment to 'people empowerment' along with achieving 'global competitiveness' (NEDA, 1995a). But as Alex Magno (1993) points out, the most powerful characteristic of the plan and the vision is as an icon. Like other symbolic political gestures -Mahatir's 'Vision 2020', Suharto's 'New Order' - Philippines 2000 captures an optimistic mood and places the government on the side of positive thinking and the continually deferred dream of better days ahead. The result is that opposition is cast in the role of negativism, defeatism and pessimism (Magno, 1993). The government has even developed its own model of Filipino subjectivity in support of the MTPDP and 'Philippines 2000': 2 6 Quoted in Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 16th, 1995, pl9. 2 7 'Trade chief says new tariff program will boost economy', Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 24th 1995; 'Government to draw up long-term plan on investment promotion', Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 31st 1995; 'RP draws P2.8-B aid as economic reforms praised' Today, July 24th 1994; 'Singson says IMF pleased with RP performance' Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 27th 1995; 'WB official expects brighter economic prospects for RP' Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 28th, 1995; 'IMF vows support for RP; money targets finalized', Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 1st 1996. 102 The efforts of communicating the MTPDP/Philippines 2000 have been pushed into a more personal but dynamic dimension through the conceptualization of a modern Filipino role model - Juan Kaunlaran ['Johnny Progress']. As conceived, Juan Kaunlaran is the modern Filipino, empowered and globally competitive, who has risen above the self-deprecating images of the indolent Juan Tamad ['Johnny Lazy'] and the submissive Juan de la Cruz. (NEDA, 1995a, 47) The MTPDP places a heavy emphasis on global competitiveness, a theme that the president has repeatedly propagated. In his 1995 State of the Nation address, Ramos declared that "we must press on with deregulation and liberalization and bring down the last of our self-imposed barriers to economic growth left over from the age of protectionism".28 Again in his 1996 Ulat sa Bay an (Letter to the Nation) address he emphasizes the point: "There is a new reality that underscores our national life. We are part of a new global economy - in which every nation must compete, i f it is to prosper".29 5.3.2 Place Marketing In addition to the incentives offered to investors and exporters, the government has marketed the less tangible attractions of industrial location in the Philippines. These pronouncements are certainly toned down from the pitch of the martial law period two decades earlier, but some of the themes are the same. Several stand out prominently in the government's 'place-marketing'. Firstly, the 'strategic' geographical location of the country in the Pacific Asian or Pacific Rim region prompts an appeal to the boosterist tendencies of what Cumings (1993) calls 'Rim-speak'. Spatial metaphors abound, including the 'foothold' or 'gateway' to Asia, the 'heart' of the region, and a 'crossroads' for global flows and Eastern and Western culture.30 As a recent government document on economic strategy noted: "essential to crafting the export-led balanced 28 -pvR: Roll out carpet for foreign investors', Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 25th 1995 2 9 Reproduced on a government internet site: 3 0 Examples can be found in the brochures entitled "The Philippines: Back in Business in the Gateway to Asia and the Pacific" (National Economic and Development Authority, 1995b), and, "The Philippines: Your Competitive Advantage" (Board of Investments, nd). 103 agri-industrialization strategy is a reading of the global environment, with emphasis on our Asian setting" (DTI, no date, 3). Secondly, the country is marketed as a conducive environment in which to do business with the support of a reliable and cooperative government. As Douglass (1993) points out, global investment decisions are as much about stable and supportive political environments as they are about specific locational incentives. Philippine promotional literature attempts to assure potential investors of the government's commitment: The Philippines has been steadily and firmly putting in place all the elements needed to become an industrializing country: adoption of open-door policy; a spirited domestic and foreign investments drive; massive infrastructure development; government decentralization; tariff structure rationalization; a flexible exchange rate policy; vigorous export promotion and streamlining of export procedures; and import liberalization. (NEDA, 1995b) In a recent advertising supplement to Scientific American magazine entitled 'Globally Competitive Philippines', for example, President Ramos' introduction emphasizes "our unwavering commitment to uphold the Western democratic tradition and the institutions founded upon its principle".31 The government seeks to project its own managerial style as being efficient, modern and attuned to the imperatives of globalization. The APEC summit at Subic Bay in November 1996, for example, was heralded as a tribute to the competency of the Ramos administration and a threshold crossed in terms of global credibility. Thirdly, promotional literature highlights the attractions of a Filipino workforce as a pool of low-cost, technically competent workers with English language proficiency. In this sense, like the model of 'Juan Kaunlaran' above, the Philippine government seeks to construct a Filipino identity that is attuned to the needs of the globalized economy. The components of this identity occasionally verge on orientalism, emphasizing the "highly trainable" nature of the Filipino workforce. Visual representations of Filipinos in promotional brochures are almost always female and, without exception, take one of two forms. Workers are depicted either seated neatly 3 1 Scientific American, February 1996, supplement, p3 104 in row after row of sewing machines, computer terminals or microscopes; or, images evoke 'paradise', featuring smiling young women on beaches fringed with palm trees. 5.3.3 Performance Economic indicators for Aquino's first two years in office were impressive. The removal of Marcos in 1986 brought a wave of new investment and international assistance to the Philippines over the subsequent three years (see Figure 3). In 1989-1992, however, political instability caused by recurrent coup attempts, communist insurgency, and Muslim unrest in Mindanao, combined with a global depression in economic activity, led to a slowdown in Philippine growth. Having expanded to record levels, foreign investment declined between 1990 and 1992, exports and imports levelled off, and GDP actually declined in 1991 (see Figures 3, 4 and 6). Only since 1992 has the national economy begun to perform strongly in terms of aggregate economic indicators in the same way as its neighbours. Substantial amounts of investment capital flowed into the country in 1994, and in 1994 and 1995 GDP was once again growing at around 5 per cent (Figures 3 and 6). Data for 1996 suggest a continuation of this trend with GNP growth in the first quarter of 1996 reaching 6.2 per cent. Estimates for the whole of 1996 place annual growth at 7.1. 3 2 Clearly, numerous factors account for these trends since 1992, and the liberal Foreign Investments Act of 1991 and growing political stability are important. But, equally, longer term trends in foreign investment also show a close adherence to international economic cycles, with pronounced declines in the middle and late 1970s and again in the early 1990s. Similarly, growth in the mid-1990s reflects wider expansionary trends in the world economy and Southeast Asia in See National Economic and Development Authority, Internet Site: 105 particular. This would suggest that current growth trends are susceptible to future recessionary conditions in the world or regional economy. Furthermore, Philippine vulnerability to international economic trends, while it has always been high (as chapter 4 demonstrated) has evidently increased substantially over the last decade. The ratio of trade to GDP provides a widely-used indicator of openness of an economy to the world system. With a ratio of around 40 per cent, the Philippines now ranks as one of the most 'globalized' economies in the world. 3 3 Future changes in international market demand, exchange rates and relative factor costs will therefore be keenly felt in the Philippine economy. 3 3 In 1992, the Philippine trade to GDP ratio was 32.5 per cent, which placed the country in 16th place in the world in terms of economic openness (see 'World Competitveness Report', EMF, 1994) 106 Figure 3 - Investment in the Philippines under Incentives Laws, 1971-1994 ° > 1> O Pi o\ •2 c o U 120000 100000 80000 60000 40000 20000 0 III t ^ t - t - ~ t ^ r ~ t ^ t ~ ~ r ~ t ^ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o \ O s O s o o s Year O Foreign Investment H Domestic Investment Source: N E D A , 1995c Note: Constant 1990 Value calculated using IMF GDP deflator Figure 4 - Philippine Exports and Imports, 1966-1995 (at constant 1990 prices) 600.0 500.0 0.0 Year Exports (Billion 1990 Pesos) Imports (Billion 1990 Pesos) Source: IMF International Financial Statistics Yearbook, 1996 Note: Constant 1990 values calculated using IMF GDP deflator 107 Figure 5 - Philippine Trade to GDP Ratio, 1966-1995 ({Exports + Imports} / 2 * GDP) 45.0 T 40.0 35.0 30.0 Cent 25.0 u u &. 20.0 15.0 -10.0 5.0 0.0 Year Source: IMF International Financial Statistics Yearbook, 1996 Figure 6 - Annual Change in Philippine Real GDP (per cent), 1967-1996 10 -r 8 + 6 + rn a L v u IN * * o- 0 -2 -4 -6 -8 r- oo ON o ^ o^ so so t--Os Os ON Os Os ON OS os o <N m r- oo oo oo oo Os ON Os Os ON ON Os ON so ON ON Source: IMF International Financial Statistics Yearbook, 1996. 108 5.4 Spatial Dimensions of Growth 5.4.1 Regional and Urban Policies Until the 1960s, regional policy was not a significant issue in Philippine development planning (Pernia, 1988). Agricultural processing and export had been dispersed across the various regional economies specializing in different crops, and import-substituting manufacturing was concentrated around the prime market of Manila (McGee, 1967; Pernia and Paderanga, 1983). Only in the 1970s did government policy start to contain an explicitly spatial component, with benefits for regional dispersal being added to the incentives for investment and export production. By locating in certain BOI-designated areas, companies could receive a doubled tax credit for direct labour costs and a tax deduction for the cost and maintenance of infrastructure work undertaken by the firm (Reyes and Paderanga, 1983). Other regional dispersal incentives were effectively provided through the export processing zones, three of which were located well beyond the capital (Bataan, Mactan and Baguio City). Despite these incentives, investment and productive activity in the 1970s continued to be concentrated in the Manila region. Between 1970 and 1977, 73 per cent of firms registered under the Export Incentives Act (RA 6135) were located in Metro Manila, with a further 12 per cent in the two adjacent regions of Central Luzon and Southern Tagalog (Reyes and Paderanga, 1983). In 1973 a further and more explicit regional policy initiative aimed at decongesting Metro Manila was introduced (Reyes and Paderanga, 1983). New manufacturing plants would need a locational clearance from the Ministry of Human Settlements (headed by Imelda Marcos), and there would be a ban on locating within a 50 km radius of Manila (of which Mrs Marcos was the governor). The result of this ban, however, was the location of many factories on the edges of the exclusion zone where they could still take advantage of the transportation infrastructure and market in the capital. Thus in the period 1974-78, 48 per cent of locational clearances were in the Central Luzon and Southern Tagalog regions, and despite the regulations, a further 28 per 109 cent were exemptions granted to locate within the National Capital Region (Reyes and Paderanga, 1983). Another explicitly spatial piece of development policy in the 1970s and early 1980s was the establishment of Integrated Area Development Projects. These projects, such as the Bicol River Basin Development Project, were intended to coordinate infrastructure programmes in various regions and direct them towards the requirements of industrial development. Despite these programmes, Pernia and Paderanga (1983) argue that incentives for regional dispersal were outweighed by the implicit concentrating tendencies in export promotion policies. The need to be near government offices, major banks and transportation facilities meant that most firms located within the core region. Further efforts at administrative and industrial decentralization were undertaken by the Aquino administration. Perhaps the most significant has been the programme of administrative devolution initiated by the Local Government Code of 1991 (RA 7160). Under the code, local government units (municipalities and cities) were granted greatly increased powers in land use classification and planning, thereby allowing them to control a key factor of production. Responsibility for approving development plans for residential subdivisions, commercial premises or industrial estates no longer rests with the National Housing and Land Use Regulatory Board, but with local government officials. The result is that municipalities are free to establish industrial zones within their jurisdictions and to try to attract industrial investment. But, since all municipalities have this capability, it is those with adequate infrastructure and with the closest links to transportation and communications facilities that can benefit. The result has been that municipalities closest to Manila have been most successful in this respect. The BOI incentives outlined earlier also incorporate a regional component through the provision of further incentives for industrial location in depressed areas (Lamberte et al. 1993, 33). But as Herrin and Pernia (1986) demonstrated on the basis of a survey of 100 corporations, the principal locational factors for export-oriented companies are transportation, power, 110 communications and land and physical plant availability. These factors appeared to outweigh any fiscal advantages offered to locate in peripheral regions. Another form of regional dispersal policy has been pursued through the Export Processing Zones, and, more recently, through a number of specially designated private industrial estates. These estates can provide incentives such as tax exemptions or deductions, waivers on local taxes, simplified export procedures, and existing infrastructure (Lamberte et al., 1993, 44). The national impact of such estates on regional dispersal is limited, however, since most are located within Region IV in the provinces of Cavite and Laguna. Individual regional success stories in recent years have been based more on local circumstances than on concerted government efforts to decentralize growth. One such success has been the redevelopment of the US Naval Base at Subic Bay into a free port and industrial estate. The area has positioned itself as a hub for regional headquarters in Southeast Asia and by March 1996, the Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority had approved investment projects worth US$1.5 billion. 3 4 A second example is the East A S E A N Growth Area (EAGA), first mooted in 1993 and formalized in 1994. The E A G A involves a partnership between Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. The model for this type of development is provided by the Singapore growth triangle and the intention is to bring together the complementary resources of capital and professional services (Singapore, Brunei) with agricultural areas and cheap labour pools (Malaysia, Indonesia, Philippines). On the Philippine side the main beneficiary is Davao City, which will receive investment in transport infrastructure (Turner, 1995). The most prodigious of the Philippines' developmental regions, however, has been the area around Manila itself. In a pattern that has characterized other Asian cities, Manila has expanded into a zone of intensively mixed agricultural, residential and industrial uses.35 This 3 4 'Spirit of Subic', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 27th 1996, pl6 3 5 Theoretical discussion and case studies of these landscapes are provided by Ginsburg, Koppel and McGee, 1991 and McGee and Robinson, 1995. I l l zone has become known as C A L A B A R Z O N - an acronym that groups the provinces of Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, Rizal and Quezon lying to the East and South of the capital (see Map 2). The project was initiated in 1990 by the Department of Trade and Industry as a coordinated effort to transform agrarian economies into urban-industrial ones through export-oriented industrialization (JICA, 1991). The Philippine government sought technical assistance from Japan and in 1991, the Japan International Cooperation Agency produced the 'Master Plan Study on the Project Calabarzon', a thirteen volume report on all aspects of the area's future development. The plan provides a framework for development until 2010 in three principal categories: the 'socioeconomy' (intensification of agriculture, industrialization, tourism, and human capital development); infrastructure (highway construction, port development, housing, water and power supply, and industrial estates); and spatial development (including the suburban expansion of Manila and the development of satellite centres such as Batangas). The funding for these developments is envisaged as coming from the Philippine Assistance Plan, particularly Japan's Overseas Economic Cooperation Fund, and from private investors. The projected public expenditure for various project was estimated at US$615 million in 1991-95 and then US$713 million in 1996-2000. The spatial development framework favoured by the Calabarzon masterplan involves moderate expansion of Manila's suburban fringe coupled with 'leap-frog' development in secondary industrial centres such as the port city of Batangas (JICA, 1991; Laquian, 1996). While the area has been successful in terms of attracting investment, as a spatial planning exercise its vision has not been realized, as the next section will demonstrate. The reason appears to rest with the administrative structure of the plan which has been based on realpolitik rather than the framework recommended by the JICA planners. As an entity, 'Calabarzon' exists in the form of a Coordinating Council and a small secretariat, but control effectively resting with the respective provincial governors. 112 5.4.2 Trends in Regional Development The last fifteen years have seen little change in the overall spatial pattern of economic activity in the Philippines. As Figure 7 illustrates, regional3 6 share of GDP has remained largely static since 1981, with a slight increase in economic activity in the core region. Despite explicit policy goals aimed at dispersal, the primacy of Manila and its adjacent regions persists. Figure 7 - Regional Share of Philippine GDP, 1981-1994 HI Mindanao 11 E.Visayas H C.Visayas I W.Visayas • Bicol • N.Luzon CH S.Tagalog • NCR [U C.Luzon Source: N E D A, 1995c 3 6 Regions in this diagram represent amalgamations of Philippine administrative regions and provinces (shown in Map 1). This takes account of changes in such regions over the past few decades, e.g. the creation of the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao and the Cordillera Administrative Region. Northern Luzon: Regions 1 and 2 = Ilocos Norte, Ilocos Sur, La Union, Pangasinan, Batanes, Cagayan, Nueva Viscaya, Quirino, Kalinga-Apayao, Ifugao, Mountain Province, Benguet, Isabela, Abra. Central Luzon: Region 3 = Bataan, Bulacan, Nueva Ecija, Pampanga, Tarlac, Zambales. Southern Tagalog: Region 4 = Aurora, Batangas, Cavite, Laguna, Marinduque, Occidental Mindoro, Oriental Mindoro, Palawan, Quezon, Romblon, Rizal. NCR = National Capital Region (Metropolitan Manila). Bicol: Region 5 = Albay, Camarines Norte, Camarines Sur, Masbate. Western Visayas: Region 6 = Aklan, Antique, Capiz, Iloilo, Negros Occidental, Guimaras. Central Visayas: Region 7 = Bohol, Cebu, Negros Oriental, Siquijor. Eastern Visayas: Region 8 = Leyte, Southern Leyte, Eastern Samar, Northern Samar, Western Samar. Mindanao: Regions 9, 10, 11, 12, and Autonomous Region of Muslim = Zamboanga del Norte, Zamboaga Del Sur, Agusan Del Sur, Agusan Del Norte, Bukidnon, Camiguin, Misamis Occidental, Misamis Oriental, Surigao del Norte, Davao del Norte, Davao del Sur, Davao Oriental, South Cotabato, Surigao del Sur, Davao City, Iligan, North Cotabato, Lanao Del Norte, Sultan Kudarat, Tawi-tawi, Maguindanao. 113 The growing dominance of the core region (NCR, Central Luzon and Southern Tagalog) is especially evident in data on regional employment generation through government incentive schemes for foreign investment in export and 'pioneer' sectors. Table 2 shows the regional37 share of employment generation over the last fifteen years. Table 2 - Regional Employment Generation Under Investment Incentive Laws, 1981-96 (per cent of national total) Region %of 1981- 1983- 1985- 1987- 1989- 1991- 1993- 1995-1990 82 84 86 88 90 92 94 96+ Pop'n Northern 11.6 1,265 2,179 896 1,161 6,820 3,953 11,646 5,573 Luzon (1.6) (3.3) (1.8) (0.6) (2.6) (3.5) (5.7) (4.0) Central 10.2 7,503 4,603 1,530 16,636 26,542 15,732 20,148 19,505 Luzon (9.2) (7.0) (3.0) (8.0) (9.9) (14.0) (9.8) (14.0) Metro 13.1 33,692 31,709 32,275 119,159 120,408 20,360 35,541 25,113 Manila (41.4) (48.2) (64.2) (56.7) (45.1) (18.1) (17.4) (18.0) Southern 13.6 12,124 18,059 6,559 33,260 71,463 36,426 71,935 31,141 Tagalog (14.9) (27.4) (13.1) (15.8) (26.8) (32.4) (35.2) (22.4) Bicol 6.4 789 1,262 355 1,072 1,115 1,852 2,039 1,106 (1.0) (1.9) (0.7) (0.5) (0.4) (1.6) (1-0) (0.8) Western 8.8 3,250 2,270 1,761 7,227 5,796 2,419 5,297 1,712 Visayas (4.0) (3.4) (3.5) (3.4) (2.2) (2.1) (2.6) (1.2) Central 7.6 2,276 1,371 3,130 11,243 13,571 9,222 18,521 6,167 Visayas (2.8) (2.1) (6.2) (5.3) (5.1) (8.2) (9.1) (4.4) Eastern 5.0 721 240 0 175 565 970 2,237 580 Visayas (0.9) (0.4) (0.0) (0.1) (0.2) (0.9) (1.1) (0.4) Mindanao 23.6 19,357 4,069 3,684 18,504 15,921 17,308 18,428 11,837 (23.8) (6.2) (7.3) (8.8) (6.0) (15.4) (9.0) (8.5) T O T A L * 100 81,384 65,810 50,248 210,153 266,780 112,551 204,619 139,165 (100) (100) (100) (100) (100) (100) (100) (100) Source: Calculated from unpublished data, Department of Trade and Industry, Board of Investment, 1995; Population data calculated from NED A , 1995c 'Philippine Statistical Yearbook'. * Including those projects without a specific region indicated + Data include only January-September 1996. The core region accounted for approximately 37 per cent of the national population in 1990, but received between 54 and 85 per cent of employment generated in each of the two year periods in 3 7 Regional definitions are provided in the previous footnote and shown in Map 1. 114 the table. Peripheral regions, meanwhile, such as Bicol and Mindanao, have received static or declining shares. The most dramatic trend has been the regionalization of the core area spreading from the N C R into, particularly, Southern Tagalog. Furthermore, as table 3 shows, within the Southern Tagalog region 134,912 of the 139,743 jobs generated in the period 1991-96 were in the Calabarzon provinces. It would seem therefore that government policy has been ineffective in dispersing industrial development from the congested core, but rather has extended the core area into adjacent provinces. As table 3 shows, over the first four years of the Calabarzon project, the area gained 29 per cent of all new jobs generated by BOI-registered projects across the country (and to this must be added the strong performance of the Cavite Export Processing Zone shown in table 1). Table 3 - Employment Generated by BOI-approved Projects in Calabarzon, 1991-94 Province 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996* TOTAL Cavite 4,553 4,774 6,987 21,121 4,491 1,998 43,924 Laguna 5,645 4,442 6,693 18,162 8,082 7,804 50,828 Batangas 4,420 1,791 1,563 3,547 2,423 1,485 15,229 Rizal 5,790 4,266 3,525 4,870 1,759 2,332 22,542 Quezon 52 183 222 1,582 297 53 2,389 Calabarzon Total 20,460 15,456 18,990 49,282 17,052 13,672 134,912 Southern Tagalog 20,837 15,589 19,758 52,177 17,369 13,772 139,743 Philippines Total 63,068 49,483 59,106 145,513 80,401 58,764 459,452 Source: Dept. of Trade and Industry, Board of Investments, unpublished data, 1995 & 1996. * 1996 data is for January-September only. A finer geographical pattern is also apparent in table 3. Of the Calabarzon total for employment generation in the 1991-1996 period, 87 per cent of jobs are located in the provinces adjacent to Manila - Cavite, Laguna and Rizal. Thus while the Calabarzon Plan seeks to direct industrial development into satellite centres, in a 'leap-frogging' pattern, the reality is that 115 industrialization is being concentrated in an extended metropolitan region around Manila. The capital's hinterland is thus witnessing a proliferation of industrial and residential developments juxtaposed with agricultural land (a process that will be examined in more detail later). What this indicates, I would argue, is the regional geography of a globalized economy. While the government seeks to position the country internationally to attract investment, the spatial corollary at a national level has been a concentration of economic activity in the core area.38 Several factors seem to be operating in this process. The obvious impetus for spatial concentration is the set of locational needs of export-oriented firms. Herrin and Pernia (1986) found that the primary needs of firms in the Philippines were proximity to transportation facilities (shipping, air freight, and highways), reliable power supplies, communications, and land/physical plant. Pernia and Paderanga (1983) also suggest the importance of locations close to government offices, major banks, and professional services. Since all of these facilities (and market demand might be added to the list) are overwhelmingly concentrated in Manila, the core region retains its attractiveness.39 The spatial inequality in infrastructure and service provision reflects an explicit attempt to be responsive to the needs of foreign capital, resulting in public investment disproportionately concentrated in this region. As table 4 shows, the Southern Tagalog region featured prominently in public infrastructure investment in the period 1989-1992, and future plans indicate that its share of regionally designated programmes will become dominant. 3 8 Forbes (1986) and Forbes and Thrift (1987) find a similar pattern of spatial concentration for foreign direct investment in Indonesia. 3 9 As Fuchs and Pernia point out, however, firm-specific determinants of location may vary by sector. The example of Texas Instruments locating in the Baguio EPZ for climatic reasons is a case in point. 116 Table 4 - Regional Shares of Public Investment, 1989-92 (per cent) Region Share of region-specific public investment, 1989-92 Share of total public investment, 1989-92 Future Projection Northern Luzon 4.9 2.01 4.71 Central Luzon 15.6 6.34 7.90 Metropolitan Manila 22.2 9.04 4.83 Southern Tagalog 18.4 7.48 16.68 Bicol 8.0 3.26 2.72 Western Visayas 0.9 0.36 2.43 Central Visayas 5.1 2.08 0.84 Eastern Visayas 9.8 4.00 9.94 Mindanao 15.0 6.09 6.62 Inter-regional - 10.66 6.82 Nationwide - 48.67 36.53 TOTAL* 100.00 100.00 100.00 Source: N E D A , cited by Lamberte et al. 1993. Such a concentration of public infrastructure investment is found, for example, in transportation projects. The Medium Term Philippine Development Plan 1993-1998 (NEDA, 1995a) lists eleven major transportation projects under the BOT scheme with an estimated total cost of 82.1 billion pesos (approximately US$4.1 billion). A l l eleven are in Metro Manila or its adjacent regions and include the Light Rail Transit System, the Manila Circumferential Road and the Manila-Cavite Expressway. But locational needs and government responses do not provide a complete picture of the processes involved in the geography of Philippine industrial development. Even when the issue is growth management rather than growth generation, as in the Calabarzon framework, the data on industrial expansion that have been presented suggest that public regulation has been largely ineffectual. Why have plans been contravened in this way and subsumed under a overarching imperative to attract foreign investment capital wherever possible? The answer appears to lie, at least partly, in the highly politicized nature of economic planning. Among other provisions, the Local Government Code allows municipalities and provinces to take a highly proactive role in 117 land use planning, infrastructure development and investment promotion, meaning that each attempts to maximize its economic base (and the enrichment of local political leaders), often in disregard for broader planning frameworks. In Cavite, for example, a province that according to the Calabarzon Master Plan should be preserving its agricultural areas, large tracts of irrigated rice land have been converted to housing or industrial uses due largely to the context of industrialization in a complex local political economy. It is, therefore, important to consider the ways in which national development strategies (implicit or explicit) are mediated at smaller scales. By focusing on Cavite, the next chapter will explore this issue in more detail. 5.5 Conclusion Several points emerge from the empirical data presented in this chapter that bear directly upon the broader arguments introduced in chapter 1 concerning globalization as a development discourse. The historical struggle described in chapter 4 between various interest groups vying to define Philippine economic policy resulted by the 1960s in an ambivalently export oriented strategy. Political changes within the country in the 1970s, most significantly the imposition of martial law, resulted in a more concerted drive to attract foreign investment in export manufacturing. By the time of the Aquino and Ramos administrations the political consensus around this strategy had solidified and the government had started to deploy a rhetoric and policy framework firmly grounded in the discourse of globalization. The rhetoric of place marketing confirms the construction of global-local relations to which the national government has subscribed over the last few decades. It is one based on selling the 'strategic' location of the country in a global space of flows. This chapter has described the policy framework inspired by this perspective and its results in terms of aggregate economic and regional indicators. A striking feature of recent growth has been its spatial distribution, with a high concentration in the core region, and particularly in the vicinity of 118 Manila. In part, this obviously reflects the locational preferences of foreign investors (Pernia, 1988), but two other factors must also be noted. First, a priority of the government, based on its reading of globalization, has been to attract as much investment as possible, with goals of regional equity effectively marginalized. The government has thus allowed industrial development to locate in the core region that is preferred, for various reasons, by international investors. This preference has been further reinforced by public infrastructure investment that is also heavily concentrated in the national core. Thus despite decentralization policies, it has been the provinces adjacent to Manila that have attracted the bulk of recent investment flows. In terms of spatial equity, then, the consequences of a globalized development strategy are highly political. This supports one of the two key arguments, concerning the political nature of globalization discourse, presented in chapter 1. The other key argument running through this thesis is the importance of local social relations in shaping experiences of globalization. The account of policies and economic performance provided here indicates that this is true at a national level. The corrupt, personalistic and kleptocratic tendencies of the Marcos regime make that point clearly - even while the Philippines was pursuing policies that copied its successful neighbours, its globalized development strategy was undermined by the system of economic power relations that held sway during the 1970s and early 1980s. Equally, domestic power relations were influential in undermining spatial dispersal policies - for example in the case of exemptions to the 1970s ban on industrial location in the National Capital Region. But as the final section of the chapter briefly suggested, political power at other scales has also been influential in determining the spatial distribution of industrial development. A key component of the national government's programme of decentralization has been the devolution of various powers and responsibilities to other administrative scales, for example through the Local Government Code of 1991. This, combined with the networks of political power that already existed at municipal and provincial levels, has allowed these scales to find an active role in shaping the localized process of globalization. The next chapter will pursue this point by examining the construction of globalization in the province of Cavite. 120 CHAPTER SIX CAVITE: CONSTRUCTING A GLOBALIZED PROVINCE 6.1 Introduction This chapter continues the analysis of the previous two chapters, but focuses on the province of Cavite alone. Cavite lies to the south of Metropolitan Manila but the continuous urban sprawl of the capital region spreads into Cavite's northern municipalities (see map 3). The province consists of two distinctive topographical regions - the lowlands to the north, drained by a series of streams into Manila Bay, and the rugged, occasionally mountainous, region to the south culminating in a ridge at Tagaytay. The purpose of the chapter is to pursue the argument that globalization is a process that is both constructed and mediated by social, cultural, economic and political structures at other scales. In this case, the most marked dimension of globalization is the flow of direct foreign investment into the province of Cavite which is driving processes of rapid industrialization and urban expansion. The chapter starts with an account of the historical formation of the province's social, political and economic structure. This provides the context for understanding the close connections between recent experiences of globalized development and local political power. Two issues are then dealt with in some detail: the political regulation of the industrial labour market and the process of agricultural land conversion. The result of this analysis is a strong indication that 'place' or locality, conceived at various scales and recognized through the exercise of political power, is where globalization is actively constructed and shaped. 121 Map 3 - Province of Cavite 122 6.2 Historical Context To understand the nature of contemporary change in Cavite, it is necessary to revisit some of the historical themes covered in chapter 4 and apply them to the province specifically. In particular, issues of land use, tenancy, and social structure in the colonial period are crucial in explaining current processes of industrialization and urbanization. From the early years of Spanish colonialism, the town of Cavite itself, located at the end of a peninsula jutting out into Manila Bay, became a major port and ship-building centre servicing the galleon trade, but for the remaining rural areas of the province, the changes of the Spanish period were mostly in the spheres of cropping and tenure patterns. Although some agriculture existed before Spanish colonization, Cavite's landscape was predominantly forested and the food system was based on pastoralism, fishing and gathering. With the need to sustain a non-productive urban population, the Philippines' first Spanish governor introduced an encomienda, or land grant, system to extract a surplus from rural populations. The largest of these royal land grants were known as estancias (ranches) and between 1571 and 1626, fifteen were created in Cavite (Cushner and Larkin, 1978).40 These represented most of the lowland northern half of the province, and while in theory they excluded land already in use, in practice they incorporated many cultivated or common land areas. In the early decades, most of these areas were used for livestock grazing with many Spanish encomenderos unwilling or unable to exploit them more intensively. The transience of the Spanish population, the restricted market for livestock, and the rich rewards to be gained from focusing instead on the galleon trade all provided incentives for urban encomenderos to sell their holdings, which eventually became 4 0 Other land grants of estancias in this period included: 39 in Tondo (roughly equivalent to what is now Metropolitan Manila), eight in Pampanga, four in Cebu, three in Camarines, three in Cagayan, and one each in Bulacan and Laguna (Cushner and Larkin, 1978, 105). 123 consolidated into larger estancias (Roth, 1982, 134). Over time, the majority of these holdings were either donated or mortgaged to wealthy Spanish religious orders, whose estates expanded to include land donated or sold by Filipino chiefs (principales), although the legitimacy of such transactions was doubtful under traditional tenure systems (Cushner, 1976). Religious orders, particularly the Jesuits, replaced cattle ranching with more intensive land uses such as sugar, fruits and rice (Roth, 1982). Wet rice cultivation was aided by the construction of an irrigation system and brought with it requirements for careful water control on small dyked fields, thus favouring small-scale farming. In this way, the early Spanish regime initiated an intensification of agricultural output and the expansion of cultivated areas, together with a two-tiered tenure system of landowners and subsistence tenants farming small plots (McAndrew, 1994). Colonial government in rural areas was conducted through the designation of mission towns which were mostly contiguous with the friar estates and administered by the orders.41 In Cavite, the dominant orders were Dominicans, Recollects and Augustinians.42 The growth of the colony in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries led to increased demand for agricultural surplus in Manila. In Cavite, production of both rice and export crops such as sugar, indigo and coffee on friar estates was intensified (Medina, 1994). In addition, several new towns were established in the latter half of the nineteenth century, reflecting both population growth and the continuing Spanish policy of'reduction bajo el son de la campana', or regrouping of settlements 4 1 "Due to the union of Church and State, in the pueblo, the parish priest, who was a white man, was the real power. He represented the majesty of Spain. He supervised local elections, education, charities, morals, and taxation. He was the representative of religion and government. His decisions in everything were without appeal", (Province of Cavite, 1981, 18). Medina (1994) gives a detailed account of the development of Cavite's mission towns. Silang was established in 1595, Cavite Viejo or Kawit in 1600, the port of Cavite in 1614, Indang in 1655, Bacoor in 1671, Maragondon in 1727, San Francisco de Malabon (later General Trias) in 1748, Santa Cruz de Malabon (later Tanza) in 1770, Imus in 1775, andNaic in 1791 (McAndrew, 1994) 124 to within the sound of the church bells (McAndrew, 1994; Medina, 1994).43 Those benefiting from intensified agricultural production were not, however, the cultivators themselves. Traders and merchants, many of them Chinese or Chinese mestizos, accumulated wealth as creditors and middlemen, while a wealthier class of non-cultivating tenants, or inquilinos, sublet the land of farmers who could not meet the requirements of their leasehold and became sharecroppers (Borromeo-Buhler, 1983).44 This further stratification was a welcome development for the religious orders who could rely upon their non-cultivating tenants for prompt rental payments. The result by the end of the nineteenth century was a three-tiered pattern of estate owners, non-cultivating tenants and sharecroppers (McAndrew, 1994; Roth, 1982).45 With growing demand for export crops in the nineteenth century, it was to the first two of these groups that benefits accrued: One of the consequences of the type of export growth experienced by the Philippines was that its fruits fell almost exclusively to a highly select group of the population. The new exchange and monetary economy intensified the sway of the money lender and usurer in Philippine rural society without establishing the foundations for industrial development or a viable internal market. (Roth, 1982, 143) The nineteenth century also saw increasing rents for farmers, payable to two tiers of 'landlords'. Roth (1982, 147) notes that eighteenth century rents on the Hacienda of San Francisco de Malabon (now General Trias) were 28 cavans (about 1,400 kilos) per quinon (5.76 4 2 The Jesuits had also been a significant early presence in Cavite, but after their expulsion from the Philippines in 1768 their haciendas passed to the Dominicans ( Province of Cavite, 1981; Medina, 1994). 4 3 Rosario in 1845, Ternate in 1856, Carmona in 1857, Bailen in 1858, Alfonso in 1859, Perez-Dasmarinas in 1866, Noveleta in 1867, Caridad in 1868, Amadeo in 1872, Mendez Nunez in 1875, and Magallanes in 1878. 4 4 In the 1750s Chinese from Manila's Parian had started to migrate into Cavite, and numbers increased after 1790 when the Parian was destroyed. By 1800, 12 per cent of Cavite's population was Chinese mestizo (Wickberg, 1965) 4 5 Borromeo-Buhler (1983) argues that by the end of the nineteenth century there was a further social division identifiable between the wealthiest of the principalia formed from the one or two most prominent families in each 125 hectares), but by the late nineteenth century they had risen to 50 cavans (approximately 2,500 kilos). The position of the wealthier tenants was, however, also vulnerable to the whim of estate administrators, thereby providing an incentive to "wrest the maximum amount of short term utility from ... sharecroppers" (Roth, 1982, 146). Thus it seems likely that there was less sense of the patron-client relations or 'moral economy' that would sustain and legitimize social relations in ways identified elsewhere in the Philippines and Southeast Asia (Scott, 1975; Kerkvliet, 1990) The resulting hardship for sharecroppers provided the basis for social unrest in Cavite. Popular protest had long occurred in the province, including a widespread uprising in 1745 over the acquisition of common land by religious orders, and further unrest in the 1820s and 1860s (Roth, 1982; Province of Cavite, 1981). More commonly, however, banditry and brigandage in the form of holdups, murders, kidnapping and cattle rustling were directed against friars, merchants, foreigners and wealthy townspeople (Medina, 1994). Bandits, usually disaffected peasants from religious haciendas, were often concealed and supported by villagers, making it fair to assume that their activities contained an element of social protest in the context of a dysfunctional 'moral economy' and exploitative tenurial arrangements (McAndrew, 1994; Medina, 1994).46 It was on the basis of such agrarian unrest that Cavite became the focus of anti-friar and nationalist rebellion in the late 1890s, as peasants fought for less onerous leaseholds and wealthier non-cultivating tenants sought to eliminate their ecclesiastical overlords. Three important features of Cavite's political culture and economy can be identified as emerging from Spanish colonialism. Firstly, a class structure (albeit with some potential for town, a 'middle class' of inquilinos with some diversified business interests such as craft production, and the poorest class of sharecroppers and landless labourers. 4 6 Medina (1994) argues that by the nineteenth century in particular, banditry, or tulisanismo, was a more organised activity and a reaction to the imposition of colonial government in the form of rentals, forced labour and the policy of reduction. 126 mobility) consisting of wealthier tenants (inquilinos) who rented directly from the religious orders, and impoverished subtenants (kasamas) and landless labourers (jornaleros) whose position was economically and socially vulnerable and had little legal standing (Roth, 1982). Secondly, these social relationships were defined through the tenure system, thus making land ownership the key to broader economic and political power. Thirdly, a culture of banditry emerged as a response to inequity and provided the foundations for the subsequent integration of organized politics and extra-legal activities in the province. After the American suppression of Filipino resistance in 1899-1902, the new regime set about establishing instruments of government and seeking legitimacy. The issue of the friar lands in Cavite and elsewhere, as a major source of disaffection behind the uprising of 1896, was given high priority by the new regime. After negotiations with the Vatican, the US government paid $6.9 million for 158,676 hectares on 23 estates, of which 47,111 hectares were in Cavite (Endriga, 1970).47 The stated intention of the colonial regime was to redistribute the land to farmer-cultivators, but since many leases were actually held by non-cultivating tenants who subletted to sharecroppers, much of the land was sold to wealthier inquilinos or, in a few cases, to American investors (Endriga, 1970). The desire of the US government to see the issue speedily resolved made selling off large tracts of land to those who could afford them an attractive proposition - as a means of both yielding a return on an (overpriced) investment and quelling social unrest. By 1910, 568 leases and sales were transacted with an average area of 43 4 7 The Recollect estate of Imus amounted to 18,243 hectares, the Augustinian estate at San Francisco de Malabon (General Trias) was 11,449 hectares, and the Dominican estates at Naic and Santa Cruz de Malabon (Tanza) were 7,624 and 9,795 hectares respectively (Endriga, 1970). 127 hectares.48 Given that the maximum a family could farm would be approximately 5 hectares, much of the land clearly remained under the kasama (or sharecropping) system. Endriga (1970) estimates that 45 per cent of the friar lands were sold to about 1.5 per cent of the eligible tenant population. During the course of the American regime, there was a substantial increases in Cavite's cultivated area, from 10,848 hectares in 1871 to 52,914 in 1938. But the incidence of tenancy rather than owner-cultivation (and therefore social inequity) also increased from 25 per cent in 1918 to 56 per cent by 1938 (McAndrew, 1994). Manufacturing, meanwhile, was limited to small-scale household craft production of textiles and processed food. 6.3 Political Economy and Lawlessness in Cavite, 1946-72 Rural unrest continued in the American period with peasant movements, notably the Tangulan and Sakdalists in the 1930s, emerging in Cavite. 4 9 Nevertheless, peasant organization remained weak in the province leading several authors to argue that banditry remained the main outlet for peasant grievances (McAndrew, 1994; Sobritchea, 1984-86).50 Highway robbery and killings were common in the 1950s and 1960s, but the bandits were not outlaws in a literal sense as many of their activities were carried out on behalf of, or with the acquiescence of, elected politicians (McAndrew, 1994; Sobritchea, 1984-6). It appears that the complicity of political and 4 8 This excludes several special leases and sales, for example the 1,050 hectares leased to General Emilio Aguinaldo in Imus. If such transactions are also included in the calculation the average size becomes 126 hectares (Endriga, 1970). 4 9 These movements combined an agenda based on peasant grievances - for example equitable ownership of land -with demands for immediate independence from the US. See Sturtevant (1976) and Kerkvliet (1977) for detailed accounts of these and other post-war peasant movements. 128 law-enforcement authorities was such that some bandits in the 1950s and 1960s were able to live relatively open and public lives. Others, such as the infamous Leonardo Manecio (alias 'Nardong Putik) were intensely hunted by authorities at certain times, but apparently protected by opposing factions or sympathetic villagers on other occasions.51 Sobritchea (1984-6) suggests that Manecio was widely admired among peasants and elevated to the status of folk hero - even the administration of justice was sometimes entrusted to bandits by peasants who saw government law enforcement efforts as futile. John Sidel (1995), however, suggests that the representation of banditry as social rebellion has been overstated, at least in the post-war years.52 He argues for a perspective on crime that is more closely tied to the local political economy. In particular, it is the powerful influence exerted by local politicians (particularly mayors and governors) over the appointment of law enforcement and security officers, leading to a decentralized, politicized and personalized system, that creates a 'structural weakness' conducive to criminalization (Sidel, 1995, 64). Thus, the law enforcement authorities become "predatory apparatuses geared not for the suppression of 'crime' and the administration of'justice', but for the regulation and exploitation of illegal economies..." (Sidel, 1995, 64-5). Political office, then, provides an opportunity not to regulate or eliminate illegal economic activities, but rather to monopolize them. Moreover, when public offices change hands, the personal enforcement apparatuses associated with political leaders 5 0 Not all banditry, of course, could be ascribed to social protest. Many of the victims were themselves poor peasants losing valued livestock (Sobritchea, 1984-6). 5 1 Sidel (1995) provides detailed account of Manecio's career, which included time served as a policeman, periods in prison and the operation of extensive cattle rustling and other illegal activities in Cavite's central lowland towns. At all times, however, Manecio's fortunes were subject to the patronage of various opposing factions in the local politics of these towns. He was therefore far from the social rebel that some suggest. He died in a shower of bullets after an operation by the National Bureau of Investigations to capture him in 1971. 5 2 Sidel (1995, 52) points to three representations of banditry that have circulated in Cavite: the state as beseiged by rebels and outlaws; banditry as social protest against inequitable capitalist transformation; and, the outlaw as 129 become circulated into mafia-like crime syndicates engaged in the same activities of banditry, car theft, cattle rustling, illegal lotteries, smuggling, robberies and kidnapping. Viewed in this way, the majority of postwar banditry cases in Cavite are examples not of social protest but of a local political economy of violence that connects public office, law enforcement, and criminal activity. Sidel shows that through the use of public office for private, and often illegal activities, local politicians can control the 'commanding heights' of the local economy. The representation of such activities in general as those of folk heroes is thus simply a discursive legitimization for a far more complex political economy: "Crime... constitutes not a form of primitive rebellion, but rather a particular mode of political domination and economic accumulation" (Sidel, 1995, 128). The integration of politics, economics and criminality in Cavite is illustrated by activities in Tanza in the 1950s and 1960s. In a period when protectionist policies imposed tariffs on imported goods, Tanza's coastal location made it a prime site for smuggling goods (particularly cigarettes and firearms) from the north coast of the island of Borneo (shared by Malaysia and Indonesia). Capipisa, one of the municipality's coastal barrios, earned a reputation for its ostentatious residences and well-paved streets. These operations grew to a considerable scale, with the distribution of smuggled goods extending into Manila, under the acquiescence of government officials at all levels. Indeed, according to Sidel (1995, 363), protection from leading politicians - notably governor Delfin Montano of Cavite, his father Senator Justiniano Montano, and their allies - was essential in diverting the attentions of law enforcement agencies. Military units "not only turned a blind eye to the syndicate's smuggling operations but in fact provided the coercive resources of the state for the policing and enforcement of the syndicate's monopoly against potential competitors." (Sidel, 1995, 364). This system of protection broke romanticized peasant hero. He argues that while the latter two depictions might hold true in the case of a few bandit 130 down with the election of Ferdinand Marcos in 1965 who harboured considerable enmity towards the Montanos. But rather than closing down the operation, Marcos simply inserted himself as its patron and ensured the victory of the syndicate's leader, Lino Bocalan, in the election for provincial governor against Delfin Montano in 1971 (Sidel, 1995, 368). As the example suggests, Cavite's violent political economy encompassed the electoral process. In a surprisingly frank statement, with a curious switch from the past to present tense, the province's official history notes the violent nature of Cavite politics during the post-war years: Cavite had the bad reputation of having dirty politics. The politician in Cavite seemed to be eternally bound to guns in order to survive. And with gun in hand, he is always tempted to eliminate his political enemies. Or else, he perishes first. Other honorable politicians who manage without guns usually end up victims of their untenable political convictions. They dare break the pattern and in so doing end up victim of the system. Commonly, the voters have no freedom of choice. The dictate of the political leader usually with a gun must prevail. If ever there's freedom to vote the election results were commonly altered to the satisfaction of the political kingpin of the locality. The ballot then was a farce. It did not reflect the true voice of the people. (Province of Cavite, 1981,43-44)53 Violence also characterized politics beyond election periods. Since 1986, five Cavite mayors and two municipal councillors (all opponents of the provincial governor) have been murdered, and several others accused of murder (Sidel, 1995, 236). In one sense these events represent the rivalries of an elite class that occasionally extend to embroil their followers and retainers. But the importance of this political culture goes well beyong 'politics' per se. The imbrication of politics and economics in Cavite means that an 'celebrities', they are undoubtedly a minority. 131 understanding of local systems of power relations is essential to an account of recent trends in the province's economic development and articulation with global flows. As McCoy explains, with reference to the Philippines in general: Although violence is their most visible aspect, all warlord families must seek rents or state revenues in some form to assure their political survival. Despite some striking differences, political families at both the provincial and national levels thus share common involvement in rent-seeking politics, a process of turning political capital into commercial opportunity. (McCoy, 1994a, 22) 6.4 The Political Context of Contemporary Development By the 1970s and 1980s, Cavite's political economy of violence was based on even greater economic rewards as industrial development started to locate in the province and urban expansion accelerated. It is in the context of local (municipal and provincial), but nationally connected, networks of political machines and loyalties that global flows of industrial investment must be viewed. Some mayors have achieved considerable wealth through the judicious application of the powers of office. This extends well beyond the local political control of law enforcement and includes the abuse of regulatory, employment, revenue dispersal and contract-granting powers. The result is that "municipal mayors, through their institutionalized control over the local coercive and extractive apparatuses of the state, exercise considerable regulatory powers over the - legal and illegal - economies of their respective municipalities" (Sidel, 1995, 230). The application of these powers has reached even higher stakes with the rapid southward suburbanization of Manila and the development of export-oriented industrial developments in the 5 3 The document was written by a committee of schoolteachers in Cavite and is entitled 'The History and Cultural Life of Cavite Province'. The frankness of this statement is made a little less surprising when put in context - a few 132 province over the last decade. In particular, control over land use and zoning ordinances has become the prime source of regulatory leverage over the formal economy open to municipal mayors in Cavite. As pressure grows for conversion of agricultural land into residential subdivisions, industrial estates, commercial developments and leisure facilities, mayors are also able to exert influence through the issuance of building permits, the use of government lands, the allocation of public works, and the implementation of agrarian reform (Sidel, 1995, 246). Agrarian reform is especially important because designation for redistribution under the programme would prevent the conversion of farm land to other uses. "With such mechanisms of land-use regulation at their disposal, Cavite's municipal mayors have evolved into the province's leading real estate agents and brokers" (Sidel, 1995, 247) ^But as in the early post-war decades, municipal 'kingpins' have remained dependent on patrons at higher levels in the political 'food chain'. In the years 1979-1986 and 1986-1995, this patronage was extended by Governor Juanito Remulla. A native of Imus, Remulla was his fraternity brother Marcos' chosen candidate for the governorship, having been persuaded to renegue on his allegiance to the Montanos.54 Remulla enjoyed close ties with Marcos and facilitated business ventures in Cavite for several prominent 'cronies', but his position was also strengthened by strong links with the powerful Puyat family in Manila, whose interests extended from banking to manufacturing and, of course, politics. In addition to these powerful connections beyond the province, Remulla also retained a formidable political machine within his jurisdiction. Many of Cavite's mayors, councillors, provincial board members and congressmen have owed their electoral successes at least in part to their status as Remulla's paragraphs later the book extols the virtues of Martial Law in returning order and good government to the country. 133 proteges. In the local elections of 1980, 1988, 1992, and even in 1995 when Remulla lost his office, over three-quarters of the province's elected mayors have been on the Remulla 'slate' (Sidel, 1995). These political ties have in turn translated into mutually beneficial economic opportunities in the public, private and 'informal' sectors.55 These political power relations, operating at various connected scales have formed the context for inward flows of industrial investment. The province's success in attracting investment has clearly been partly driven by systemic considerations such as proximity to Manila's market and transportation/communication linkages, and the structural reasons for overseas investment among other East Asian economies (particularly Japan, Taiwan, and South Korea). But the provincial government has also played a key role in 'globalizing' the province's economy. In the rest of this chapter, I will outline some of the strategies employed by Remulla's administration to attract and mediate the 'globalization' of the province. 6.5 The Promotion of a Province Remulla's government took a number of steps in order to attract investment to the province. Publishing its own promotional brochures (in English, Chinese and Japanese), the local government sought to emphasize the conducive atmosphere for low-cost manufacturing in 5 4 In addition to Remulla and Marcos, the University of the Philippines Upsilon fraternity also included Benigno Aquino and the current congressman for the second district of Cavite, Renato Dragon, among its members. Dragon is now rumoured to be a potential candidate in the next gubernatorial election. 5 5 Public sector opportunities include the granting of contracts and other revenue dispersal; in the private sector, many elected officials have business interests in the construction industry and recruitment for factory jobs and overseas contract work; and, in the 'informal' sector, there are widespread allegations that politicians are involved in illegal gambling (or jueteng) syndicates. 134 the province. The governor's introduction to a promotional brochure stresses the attractions of the place to global capital: Cavite as a declared "Industrial Peace and Productivity Zone" of the Philippines provides hot only a climate of harmony suited for business growth, but also the ambience of leisure in our tourist spots with world class amenities, six golf courses in international standards combined with executive villages, and the refreshing country air of our greeneries. The sociopolitical setup in Cavite that produced the consensus for a single development-oriented team is pledged to assist and support all those that have decided to invest in Cavite. We can do no less for those who will heed our invitation. (Province of Cavite, nd, 1) The government's commitment is also exemplified in several campaigns, which have found their way onto billboards around the province. One slogan heralds the arrival of "Cavite's Second Revolution", consisting of "Industrialization, Urbanization, Tourism Development and Agro-modernization". Another declares Cavite an "Industrial Peace and Productivity Zone", ostensibly by popular acclamation of the "People of Historic Cavite" in May 1991. While on one level innocuous boosterism, at another these intrusions in the landscape, directed at both workers and investors, leave no doubt as to the priorities and determination of the provincial government. Before turning to consider the involvement of Cavite's political power brokers in the specific processes of industrial labour market formation and land conversion, I will provide a brief picture of the nature of the province's industrial development 6.6 Industrialization in Cavite Table 5 provides some aggregate indicators of social and economic change in the province over the last three censuses. 135 Table 5 - Selected Socio-economic Characteristics of Cavite, 1970-90 Socio-economic indicator 1970 1980 1990 Total Population 520,180 771,320 1,152,534 Average population growth p.a.(%) 3.24 4.02 4.10 Number of Households 87,743 138,435 222,151 Average Household Size 5.9 5.6 5.2 Urban Population (%) 50.2 59.8 76.2 Literacy Rate (%) 90.3 89.6 98.0 Labour force in Agriculture (%) 31.8 26.4 14.0 Households with Electricity (%) 53.9 67.8 87.6 Households with a Television (%) 17.0 67.8 87.6 Source: National Statistics Office, 1993. As the decreasing agricultural workforce suggests, the provincial government's political commitment to globalized development has translated into considerable success in attracting global capital, principally in the form of foreign investment in export-oriented manufacturing. As table 6 shows (and chapter 5 also indicated), the bulk of this industrial development has been concentrated in Northern lowland towns, particularly Carmona, Dasmarinas, Imus, General Trias and Rosario. A l l are located on the agricultural fringe of Manila, beyond its suburban sprawl into Bacoor and Noveleta, and all are within the prime agricultural areas of the lowlands. Table 6 - Characteristics of Cavite's Industrial Sector, June 1995 Municipality / Number of Capitalization Employment Industrial Estate Companies (Million Pesos) Alfonso 4 246 277 Bacoor 9 109 885 Carmona 78 5,504 10,613 a. People's Technology Complex 45 3,596 6,560 b. Granville Industrial Complex 10 168 1,383 c. Mount View Industrial Complex 8 422 988 d. Southcoast Industrial Estate 4 7 225 e. Outside Industrial Estates 11 1,311 1,457 Dasmarinas 41 4,134 6,431 a. First City Land Heavy Ind'l Centre 2 10 39 b. DBB-NHA Industrial Estate 4 71 2,448 c. First Cavite Ind'l Estate & 21 1,863 2,382 SEPZ d. Outside Industrial Estates 14 2,190 1,562 General Mariano Alvarez 6 272 1,109 a. GMA-NHA Industrial Estate 5 110 1,004 b. Outside Industrial Estates 1 162 105 General Trias 22 5,022 2,512 a. New Cavite Industrial City 10 171 610 b. Gateway Business Park and SEPZ 4 2,787 987 c. Outside Industrial Estates 8 2,064 915 Imus 16 2,658 8,916 Indang 4 201 -Naic 9 70 344 Noveleta 2 3 227 Rosario 143 4,667 39,347 a. CEPZ 140 4,591 38,264 b. Outside CEPZ 3 76 1,083 Silang 15 755 2,279 Tanza 4 1,460 860 Cavite City 4 11 160 Tagaytay City 5 20 123 Trece Martirez City 14 104 806 TOTAL 376 25,236 74,889 Source: Unpublished Data, Province of Cavite, Planning Department, 1995 This industrial development has been concentrated in relatively few sectors. The principal sectors in terms of corporations located in Cavite are light manufacturing and 137 textile/garments, although electronics and food/agroprocessing firms are also represented (table 7). The same two sectors also dominate in terms of employment generation, together accounting for over 70 per cent of the industrial workforce. Table 7 - Cavite's Industrial Sector by Type of Industry, June 1995 Type of Industry Companies (per cent) Employment (per cent) Food and Agro-industry 40(10.9) 2,704 (3.6) Light Manufacturing 179 (48.8) 30,274 (39.9) Electronics 30 (8.2) 16,017(21.1) Textiles and Garments 85 (23.2) 23,838 (31.4) Ceramics 8 (2.2) 1,293 (1.7) Handicrafts 11 (3.0) 752 (1.0) Furniture & Construction Supplies 12 (3.3) 925 (1.2) Not Specified 2 (0.5) 41 (0.05) Source: Unpublished Data, Province of Cavite, Planning Department, 1995 The ownership structure of Cavite's industrial sector highlights the globalized nature of development in the province. Only just over one-third (34.5 per cent) of companies are wholly Filipino owned, and nearly one-third (31 per cent) have no Filipino equity participation at all (see table 8). The most significant investors in the province are Japanese, Taiwanese and South Korean, who together account for nearly half (45.7 per cent) of the total. 138 Table 8 - Nationality of Equity Ownership in Cavite's Industrial Sector, June 1995 Nationality Sole Ownership (# of Companies) Joint Ownership, with Filipino Partners* Joint Ownership, with Non-Filipino Partners* Filipino 123 Japanese 40 31 0 South Korean 33 21 0 Taiwanese 15 21 .2 Chinese 3 16 0 British 3 6 0 American 1 8 0 German 3 2 1 Indian 3 2 0 Singaporean 2 3 0 Australian 1 5 0 French 1 1 0 Yemeni 1 0 0 Malaysian 0 2 0 Hong Kong 0 3 0 Italian 0 0 1 Belgian 0 1 0 Indonesian 0 1 0 TOTAL 229 123 4 Source: Unpublished Data, Province of Cavite, Department of Planning, 1995 * Some joint venture companies may include more than two nationalities Data on the characteristics of Cavite's industrial workforce are not available for the province as a whole, but some figures can be provided for firms at the Cavite Export Processing Zone (see table 9). Garments and electronics companies dominate the zone, with stark gender differentiation within the workforce. Among foreign managers, men dominate in all sectors, while among Filipino management and staff the overall total is approximately equal, due mainly to female representation in the garment sector. The most dramatic gender differentiation is, however, at the level of production line employees. In all sectors except fabricated metal 139 production, women constitute the vast majority of the workforce - 77 per cent of shopfloor employees in total. Table 9 - Employment Structure of CEPZ Enterprises, April 1995 Management and Staff Employees Sector Foreign Filipino TOTAL Male Female Male Female Male Female Wearing Apparel 62 10 209 451 1,617 8,369 10,718 Athletic Shoes 13 2 121 54 1,425 2,539 4,154 and Gloves Hosiery 28 1 2 44 337 889 1,301 Plastic Products 23 1 75 55 342 608 1,104 Fabricated Metal 17 1 60 42 377 82 579 Electronics & 189 5 1,283 888 2,798 12,040 17,203 Electrical Other 50 5 121 127 1,034 1,867 3,204 TOTAL 382 25 1,871 1,661 7,930 26,394 38,264 Source: Unpublished data, Cavite Export Processing Zone, Industrial Relations Division, 1995 The distribution of these employees across the province is diffuse (see table 10). Not surprisingly, Rosario contributes the largest single share of CEPZ workers, but several other towns house substantial numbers of workers. The impact of CEPZ on labour markets is therefore widespread. In Tanza, for example, 6,043 people work at the zone - representing approximately 10 per cent of the town's 1990 census population. 140 Table 10 - Spatial Distribution of CEPZ Workers by Residence, December, 1994 Municipality Workers Percentage Rosario 7,110 20 Tanza 6,043 17 General Trias 5,688 16 Cavite City 2,879 8.1 Kawit 1,600 4.5 Noveleta 1,600 4.5 Naic 1,493 4.2 Imus 1,422 4.0 Bacoor 1,066 3.0 Indang 712 2.0 Maragondon 533 1.5 Trece Martires City 355 1.0 Other Municipalities 2,026 5.7 Outside Cavite 3,022 8.5 TOTAL 35,549 100 Source: Unpublished data, Industrial Relations Division, CEPZ, 1995. Employment at CEPZ is, moreover, growing rapidly. The December 1994 total of 35,549 (table 10) grew from a figure of zero ten years earlier (see table 1). Just four months later, in April 1995, nearly 3,000 more jobs had been added (table 9). This growth at CEPZ, along with other industrial estates in Cavite, has led to changes in the local labour market, as an agricultural labour force is increasingly geared towards factory work. In addition, migration to the province and growing demand has spurred a real estate boom that is causing the conversion of large areas of agricultural land into residential estates. These processes of labour market formation and land conversion are the principal ways in which globalized development is experienced by people in Cavite. In the next two sections, I will examine these processes in the light of the political context described earlier. 141 6.7 The Labour Process in a Globalizing Province The apparatus of local government has encouraged the process, and shaped the experiences, of globalization through intervention in the sphere of labour regulation. Few aspects of the labour process have escaped the influence of governmental regulation, non-regulation, or influence: recruitment, union organization, workplace conditions, pay and benefits, job security and industrial relations. The designation of Cavite as an "Industrial Peace and Productivity Zone" indicates the manner in which the government has sought to manage the labour process in order to attract industrial investment. Even after his election defeat in 1995, which was widely attributed to the province's 'no-strike' policy, Remulla remained unrepentant: Cavite maintains the policy of industrial peace and productivity. In the late '80s and early '90s, when strikes paralyzed industry, Cavite remained peaceful and productive. I, as governor, personally mediated between management and labour to arrive at an amicable resolution of the issues on the basis of what is just, fair and equitable. I practised labor law before I joined politics, and it was as a practising lawyer that I realised how strikes can be disastrous for both management and labor. It was then that I resolved that, given the chance, we should avoid confrontational strikes and resort to amicable settlement. It is not only sound economic policy, it is also socioculturally appropriate for us non-adversarial Filipinos. And yes, when militants resorted to violence I was willing to uphold the majesty of law. Those who are not willing to use the potent force of the law when the situation calls for it have no business being called leaders.56 At the recruitment stage, there is a widespread belief that preferential treatment has been given to those with connections to local political leaders. One such allegation concerns the close links between Remulla and the Iglesia Ni Cristo, a Philippine protestant congregation that opposes union membership and is notorious for voting en masse in elections for the candidates endorsed by the church's leaders. It has been suggested that members of the church received 'The very best for Cavite1, J.R.Remulla, Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 22nd, 1995 142 preferential consideration for jobs in Cavite's industrial estates because of this connection (Sidel, 1995, 382; Coronel, 1995, 17). Municipal mayors and even village captains are also reputed to have influenced the recruitment process through an unofficial system in which an applicant receives the endorsement of a local official. This influence can also be exerted through official channels by granting or denying an applicant the necessary police clearance for employment. Political officials (along with other entrepreneurs) also operate recruitment agencies supplying workers to local factories. This arrangement allows the agency to take a commission from the new employee's wages, and in both official and unofficial placements, to establish a patron-client relationship with the employee for whom employment has been provided - a relationship which, it is assumed, will manifest itself at election time. Such recruiting agencies, some illegal, also operate for the deployment of overseas contract workers.57 Much of the influence of local political bosses on industrialization rests in their implicit sanctioning of abuses of labour laws. 5 8 Regulations concerning health and safety at work are loosely applied with many reported cases of violations - in one factory in Cavite, for example, it was alleged that at least 15 workers had lost fingers without proper compensation.59 Workers also find themselves in positions where they are personally or physically abused by factory managers. The following press report emerged in 1995 about a garment factory in the Cavite Export Processing Zone: Workers from a garments firm complained that their Korean manager has been maltreating and overworking them and has even called Filipinos "easy money". The Korean manager, a certain M.S.Lee punishes women by ordering them to squat for long periods of time. Male workers are punished by push-ups. The firm is called DAI Young Apparel and is located at the Cavite Export Processing Zone. The workers told 'Who are behind this syndicate?', Philippine Daily Globe, October 18th, 1990. 'Government sacrifices workers to attract investments', Today, February 23rd, 1995. 'Workplaces in Cavite perilous, report says', Today, February 28th, 1995. 143 Labor Secretary Nieves Confesor over the telephone that toilets are locked during working hours and are only opened during breaktime. Lee and other Korean supervisors in the firm also have a habit of hitting them, they said. 6 0 There are also cases of child labour, although parents are usually complicit in this practice since it is often on the basis of falsified records. Regulations concerning wages and benefits also seem open to abuse. In 1995, the statutory daily minimum wage in the manufacturing sector was 138 pesos (approximately Cdn$7), but firms could employ workers at 98 pesos for a probationary or training period of six months. A widespread practice has been to keep employees at a probationary wage on a permanent basis (in one reported case a firm's employees were still on probationary wages after 3 years), or, to fire workers and recruit again after six months rather than regularize existing workers and pay them the full minimum wage.61 The constant supply of fresh recruits needed for this practice is provided by the recruitment agencies often established by local political bosses. There have even been allegations that Governor Remulla was personally being paid a commission from every employee's wage at the Export Processing Zone - with some suggesting amounts between 10 and 20 pesos a day - by companies wishing to ensure the Governor's continued acquiescence to abuses of labour laws. It would seem, however, based on evidence since Remulla was removed from power, that such accusations were probably apocryphal.62 In other cases, wage regulations have been ignored altogether. Reports suggest some companies pay far below even the probationary wage level and some also fail to pay salaries on time and neglect to make the appropriate contributions to the government Social Security System 6 0 'Workers hit Korean owner of Cavite firm', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 4th, 1995; 'Cavite labor officials deny no-strike policy', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 9th, 1995 6 1 'Workplaces in Cavite perilous, report says', Today, February 28th, 1995. 6 2 'Give back P20 to Cavite workers', Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 7th 1995. 144 for their employees.63 In 1995, the Department of Labour and Employment itself estimated that 30 percent of firms in the country's Export Processing Zones were not complying with minimum wage legislation.64 One of the key elements of the province's self-marketing as an 'Industrial Peace and Productivity Zone' has been an unofficial ban on unionization and strikes. Several factors have served to discourage the emergence of an organized labour movement. First, factories have overwhelmingly opted to employ young, single, female workers, who come either from local farming families or as new migrants to the area seeking wages to send home to their families in more impoverished provinces. These young women are generally supervised in the factories by older women and they in turn by male managers - in this way the age and gender-based seniority which exists at home is reproduced in the workplace. Labour unrest is thereby discouraged by the mores of familial discipline. Secondly, lessons have been learned from the experience of the more established export processing zones. In Bataan, for example, the dormitories established in the zone to house workers proved to be fertile ground for union organization. In Cavite, workers have instead been dispersed throughout the neighbouring towns, either in their home villages or in boarding houses. Thirdly, local political leaders exert influence on workers with varying levels of directness, from an unspoken sense that in joining a union a worker would be displaying ingratitude for a recommendation, to the use of direct physical force, which has been alleged in the activities of the province's paramilitary Industrial Security Action Group. 6 5 6 3 'Remulla scored for union busting', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 1st 1995. 6 4 'Export zone wage violators bared', Philippine Daily Inquirer, June 21st, 1995. 6 5 'Antilabor setup in export zones scored', Today, February 22nd, 1995; 'Remulla scored for union busting', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 1st 1995; 'Unions want Remulla probed', Philippine Daily Inquirer, March 21st, 1995. See also Sheila S. Coronel (1995). 145 In a variety of ways, then, local political power relations have intersected with the process of industrial development to shape the way in which globalization is experienced. While based on a driving motive of personal enrichment and political entrenchment, this intervention has been legitimized using the same globalization discourse employed by the national government. Foreign capital is courted with assurances of compliant regulatory structures and labour control represented as "industrial peace and productivity". 6.8 The Politics of Land Conversion The conversion of farm land has been a point of considerable debate within the Philippines, particularly among progressive groups concerned with the eviction of tenant fanners and issues of food security.66 The process in Cavite has been driven by the development of large industrial estates in a zone from East to West across the centre of the province, mostly over the last 5 years. Housing estates have also begun to sprout up, accommodating mostly factory workers and commuters working in Manila. This real estate boom is evident in the population classified as urban for census purposes. The level of urbanization increased from one half to three-quarters between 1970 and 1990 (see table 5). The process is also reflected in dramatic increases in the cost of land in Cavite. In the province as a whole, the cost of home lots increased by an average of 20.4 per cent every year between 1990 and 1993 (this compares with a 5.5 per cent increase in Metro Manila). 6 7 The conversion of farmland into industrial estates or residential subdivisions has been widespread, For example: Ramos (ed.) 1991; Ochoa and Descanz, 1993; Canlas, 1991; Sermeno, 1994; 'Land prices in Metro towns, Calabarzon rising', Philippine Daily Inquirer, July, 1995. 146 but in many instances land has also been taken out of production and tenant-farmers removed as a speculative tactic pending future sale of the land. Tables 11 and 12 indicate the land use pattern in 1988, and the subsequent conversions that have been registered with the provincial government. Table 11 - Land Use in Cavite, 1988 Land Use Category Area (hectares) % of Total Area Agricultural 106,080.12 74.33 Non-agricultural 36,625.88 25.42 Built-Up 21,999.73 15.42 Woodland 13,101.70 9.18 Wetland 1,542.45 1.07 Total 142,706.00 100.00 Source: Province of Cavite, 1990. Table 12 - Land Conversions in Cavite Approved or Being Processed by DAR, 1988-95 Residential Industrial Institutional Commercial Farmlot Tourism Unknown Total 1988 7.0 21.0 28.0 1989 17.4 25.0 42.4 1990 159.8 160.8 14.8 0.4 335.8 1991 73.0 35.0 148.7 256.7 1992 209.5 266.6 12.4 67.8 53.8 610.1 1993 99.9 24.8 10.0 12.0 146.7 1994 125.3 7.9 133.2 1995* 286.6 286.6 Being Processed 98.4 66.0 103.2 267.6 TOTAL 1076.9 520.1 185.9 0.4 100.8 66.0 157.0 2,107.1 * As of June 30th. Source: Unpublished Data, Department of Agrarian Reform, Quezon City. Clearly, residential and industrial developments have been the major causes of land conversion, but there are reasons to suspect that these figures from the Department of Agrarian 147 Reform (DAR) represent only a fraction of the land actually taken out of agricultural production. The owners of land which is lying idle, and therefore not technically converted, have usually paid off tenant farmers in order to avoid agrarian reform redistribution and are waiting for a more profitable moment at which to convert the land to other uses.68 But many lands have simply been converted without the knowledge of the DAR, usually because grounds have been established for exempting the conversion application from D A R jurisdiction (such as proving a non-agricultural land use or by invoking the municipal land use plan). Still more land has simply been converted illegally without the necessary clearances.69 Data from the municipality of Tanza in Cavite indicates that while 367.3 hectares of agricultural land was approved, exempted or being processed for conversion between 1989 and 1994, a further 221.8 hectares had been converted without permission - in both cases the vast majority being for residential subdivisions.70 Data on rice lands in the municipality, meanwhile, gathered by local Department of Agriculture extension workers, suggests that over 400 hectares of land conversion was on irrigated rice land.7 1 If these figures can be extrapolated - and field observations suggest that Tanza is not atypical of lowland towns in the province - the implication is that official conversion figures must be scaled up by at least 50 per cent to account for illegal conversions, and that around two-thirds of conversion is on irrigated rice lands. Numerous pieces of legislation exist to protect agricultural land from conversion. The land to be converted must be officially zoned as non-agricultural and it must be non-irrigated.72 It 6 8 This practice has been analyzed by Medalla and Centeno, 1994, and is discussed further in chapter 8. 6 9 'Cavite has high rate of illegal land conversions, claim farmers groups' Business World, June 10th 1991 7 0 Of the legal conversions, 254.2 hectares were for residential uses, 77.1 for industrial, 13.1 for institutional, 11.8 for tourism resorts and 11.1 were for unspecified uses. Source: unpublished data on land conversion, Municipal Agrarian Reform Office, Tanza, Cavite, 1995. 7 1 Unpublished data on farmers in Tanza, 1989 and 1995, Municipal Agricultural Officer, Tanza, Cavite. 7 2 Administrative Order 20, 1992 148 must also not be eligible for redistribution from owner to tenant under agrarian reform legislation. But each of these conditions can frequently be sidestepped. The Local Government Code of 1991 (a piece of administrative decentralization seen as a key component of economic liberalization and global competitiveness) enables local officials to reclassify up to 15 per cent of land use from agricultural to other uses on the basis of vague conditions relating to its viability for agriculture. Many towns, however, do not even have precisely defined or publicly available zoning maps, leaving decisions over reclassification to local officials, particularly mayors. Such rezoning decisions often involve bribery and kickbacks.73 Certification that land is unirrigated is equally open to bureaucratic corruption and other means of circumvention. Areas designated for Regional Agri-Industrial Centres, Tourism Development Areas or socialized housing can be prioritized for land conversion with Presidential authority.74 Alternatively, land owners may deliberately vandalize or neglect irrigation canals and dikes in order to make a case that the land is unirrigated and unproductive. Clearances from the Department of Agrarian Reform that the land has "ceased to be economically feasible and sound for agricultural purposes"75 and that farmers on the land have been properly compensated are also open to abuse both by local officials and landowners. Numerous documented examples exist of pressure being brought to bear on farmers in Cavite who have resisted the decision to convert farmland.76 Farmers rights as agrarian reform 7 3 'Gangster Politics Thrives in Cavite', Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 2nd 1995. 7 4 Executive Order No. 124 , 1993 7 5 Requirements for Conversion from Department of Agrarian Reform, Tanza 7 6 Examples of popular protest against development in Cavite include a new dumpsite servicing Manila to be located in Carmona; the Export Processing Zone in Rosario; and various residential and industrial developments in Dasmarinas, most notably against a new industrial estate developed by the Japanese Marubeni Corporation in Langkaan, Dasmarinas, in 1991. The Langkaan controversy lead to the ousting of the Secretary of Agrarian Reform. See 'Cavite dumpsite opposed', Philippine Daily Inquirer, March 16th, 1992; 'Cavite folk protest dump site project', Manila Chronicle, April 30th, 1993; 'More Cavite farmers lose lands', Manila Times, September 8th, 1991; "NDC-149 beneficiaries have also been compromised where redistribution has been prevented or withdrawn, often with pressure being applied to local agrarian reform officials. It should also be said, however, that many farmers have been only too happy to sell their tenancy rights given the marginal profitability of rice cultivation and the often generous compensation packages which are negotiated (these motivations will be discussed in greater detail in later chapters). As a result of these various legal loopholes and extra-legal activities, municipal politicians have been able to exert considerable control over the land conversion process. The provincial authorities technically have little power to influence land conversion decisions, but in Cavite there have been widely circulated accusations of complicity on the part of Remulla's government (Sidel, 1995, 381). The principal ways in which this influence has been exercised are through the persuasion or coercion of uncooperative municipal officials and tenant farmers, supplying money to add a further incentive for compliance, and the provision of manpower for forced evictions.77 In numerous documented cases, he [Remulla] has dispatched armed goons, ordered the bulldozing of homes, and engineered the destruction of irrigation canals, so as to expedite the departure of "squatters" and tenant farmers demanding compensation for their removal from lands designated for sale to Manila-based or foreign companies for 'development' into industrial estates. Though Remulla typically tempers such hardball tactics with offers for a 'settlement', the 'carrot' is never as impressive as the 'stick'. (Sidel, 1995,381) In the case of the Cavite Export Processing Zone in Rosario, the national government was also involved. When President Marcos declared 275 hectares in two municipalities to be the site of the CEPZ in 1980 (under Presidential Decrees 1980 and 2017) it was then prime irrigated rice land under cultivation. Contractors employed by the EPZA (a national agency) and the provincial Marubeni issue revisited', Manila Chronicle, May 28th 1990; 'The Langkaan Syndrome' by John McAndrew, in Midweek, April 11th, 1990. 7 7 McAndrew (1990; 1994) and Coronel (1995) record various instances of provincial law enforcement officers or hired 'goons' being involved in tenant evictions. 150 government started to bulldoze the site in March 1981 but faced opposition from farmers on the site who organized themselves into the Samahang Magsasaka at Mamumuwisan ng Cavite (Association of Farmers and Leaseholders of Cavite) (McAndrew, 1994, 125). A Supreme Court ruling in August 1981 halted construction on the site, but was overturned when the government produced an unpublished Presidential Decree dated seven months earlier (PD 1818) that inhibited the courts from interfering with government development projects. As a result construction continued and most farmers succumbed to pressure and accepted a compensation package. 6.9 Politics and Place in Economic Globalization As with the discussion of globalization in the Philippines as a whole, two broad conclusions can be drawn from this discussion of Cavite's complex political economy. Firstly, globalization, in this case as flows of industrial investment, must be seen as an inherently localized process, rather than a universal and homogenizing force. It is through local political and social structures, discussed in this case at the provincial and municipal levels, that globalized development is mediated. Secondly, globalization exists not just as an economic phenomenon, but equally as a discourse that legitimizes certain local political practices. By representing Cavite as a node or 'site' in a global network of investment flows, local politicians have been able to justify a set of practices with regard to two key factors of production - land and labour - in order to satisfy a third, capital. But the process is not one of unrelenting structural power on the part of'capital'. Instead, industrial investment has been incorporated into the local political economy on terms dictated by, and beneficial towards, those in command. Thus, as Massey argues, there is a "power geometry" to globalization, but the relationship to globalization at a local level is more complex than simply differential access to global flows 151 (1994, 148-9). The very nature of such flows is not as disembodied phenomena, but refracted by local social relations in such a way that experiences of globalization both reflect and reinforce power (Massey, 1994, 62). Thus the ways in which individuals experience globalization is defined by their positioning in the local political economy. Local political power can construct an image of the global, mediate local experience of global flows and, at the same time, legitimize local practices with reference to the discourse of globalization to which it has contributed. Power is, as Rafael points out, "the capacity to lay claim over the site of circulation and thereby broker the exchange between the inside and the outside" (Rafael, 1995, xix). Appadurai's reminder of the contextual construction of the global is useful here, because while globalization sets certain imperatives, their application at a local level is quite distinct: "the use of these words by political actors and their audiences may be subject to very different sets of contextual conventions that mediate their translation into public politics" (Appadurai, 1990, 10). Keywords thus evoke different practices in different places. Globalization has specifically local features and local consequences; it is, as Gregory argues, a "situated construction" (1994b, 204), and it is this 'situatedness' that the next part of the thesis will examine across other scales - the village, the household and the individual. 152 PART III LABOUR, LAND AND IDENTITY IN GLOBALIZING PLACES 153 CHAPTER SEVEN BARRIO BUNGA: THE GLOBALIZING VILLAGE LABOUR MARKET 7.1 Introduction The context of globalized development at national and provincial scales has been described over the previous three chapters. This part of the thesis shifts the scale of analysis to examine the ways in which globalized development is embedded in social relations at the scale of the village, household and individual. The local manifestation of globalization of primary concern in this chapter is the transformation of local labour markets resulting from foreign investment in export-oriented manufacturing industry. The issue of industrial labour market formation goes to the heart of how people in Tanza experience the changes wrought by globalization. The process is experienced both economically, in terms of livelihood and production, and culturally in shifting attitudes to work. The cultural and economic dimensions are closely connected, but for now issues of identity and culture will be deferred until chapter 9. In this chapter the focus is on economic issues, and particularly the ways that factory work, and other changes in the local labour market (for example, overseas employment), intersect with the farm economy, on which most villagers depend for their livelihood and subsistence. Thus the embedded social relations of place to be considered here revolve around the social and economic organization of agricultural production. The chapter is structured in the following way. In the first section I present a detailed account of the socioeconomic arrangements behind farming in Tanza as a whole, including tenancy, cropping patterns, the economics of farming, and social divisions of labour within both villages and households. This section provides a picture of the social relations of agricultural production which form the context for recent changes to the local'labour market. In the second section of the chapter, attention is focused on the village of Bunga in Tanza, one of the two villages where I conducted field research in 1995. While no formal claims of representativeness 154 can be made for the village (since, as chapter 3 makes clear, its selection was as much serendipity as design), I believe Bunga is illustrative of the impacts of labour market changes on rural areas in Cavite. The section starts with some background information on the history and geography of the village, and then moves on to describe the nature and dimensions of the labour market changes that have occurred. In particular, the emphasis is on the emergence of local factory work and overseas employment in the village. The final section of the chapter looks at how these changes have been experienced by farmers and some of the adjustments and responses that have developed in the agricultural sector. 7.2 The Socio-economics of Farming 7.2.1 Land Acquisition and Tenancy For historical and ecological reasons discussed in chapters 4 and 6, most farmers in Tanza find themselves farming land that they do not own. For the vast majority their use rights to the land are based on a tenancy relationship.78 In the two villages (Bunga and Mulawin) where I interviewed farmers, just 5 of the 52 surveyed actually owned the land they tilled. At a formal level their tenancy involves paying a percentage of their crop to a landlord as rent (buwis). The