In the heart of Mindanao, where the verdant valleys of Maguindanao and Lanao cradle rich agricultural lands, and the Special Geographic Areas of BARMM brim with untapped potential, a tragic irony unfolds. These lands, blessed with natural wealth, remain gripped by poverty, conflict, and now—an intensifying climate crisis.
The recent deluge that swept across Maguindanao del Sur, displacing more than 190,000 people, did not only devastate crops and homes. It exposed the frailty of peace and the fault lines of governance in a region still healing from the wounds of war and political violence. What we are witnessing is a dangerous convergence: climate shocks feeding conflict, and conflict undermining climate resilience.
Climate Change and Conflict: A Collision Course
BARMM’s mainland provinces—Maguindanao del Norte, Maguindanao del Sur, Lanao del Sur, and the SGAs—are increasingly caught in a feedback loop where environmental degradation and violent instability feed each other. The flooding of the past weeks has submerged entire towns already weighed down by clan wars, horizontal conflicts, and post-election political violence. These dual disasters—ecological and socio-political—compound the vulnerability of the most marginalized: subsistence farmers, landless laborers, displaced Indigenous Peoples, and women-led households.
As the Climate Conflict Action Asia (CCAA) and the Early Response Network starkly put it in their latest statement, “Fault lines and flood lines are rising as new perils overtake the polls.” In these words, the inextricable link between climate and conflict is laid bare. The very communities that braved threats to cast their votes in the recent mid-term elections are now drowning—literally and metaphorically—in the aftermath of political tension and environmental neglect.
When Relief Becomes a Weapon
Disaster should bring people together. But in politically fractured provinces, even humanitarian aid becomes a tool for vengeance or reward. The fear that elected officials may divert aid to favored constituencies—or punish communities that supported opponents—is not unfounded. This misuse of emergency resources deepens mistrust in local institutions and revives old grudges. In areas like Datu Saudi Ampatuan and Shariff Saydona Mustapha, where both violence and floods recently converged, skirmishes have erupted in evacuation centers themselves.
The displaced—mostly smallholder farmers and fisherfolk—have not only lost homes but also the very means of survival. Crops lie underwater, fishponds are silted, and flood-borne disease looms. For youth and jobless men, the temptation to join armed or criminal groups—who pay stipends or offer “protection”—rises as fast as the floodwaters. This is not just a humanitarian crisis; it is a security flashpoint in the making.
Swelling Waters, Shrinking Safe Spaces
The Liguasan Marsh, once a source of livelihood and biodiversity, has now become a “back route” for illicit trade and armed movement. Security checkpoints are submerged, allowing drugs, weapons, and combatants to cross undetected. Lawlessness grows with the water level. In a region already teetering on the edge, climate change becomes a force multiplier for violence.
And still, local governments are overstretched. The BARMM’s institutional capacities—though stronger than years past—remain inadequate to manage layered emergencies at this scale. Funds are delayed or caught in bureaucratic traps. The Special Geographic Areas, still finding their footing in the BARMM system, are especially underserved and lack disaster readiness. The risk of conflict spilling into neighboring Zamboanga provinces is no longer hypothetical—it is already happening.
The Missing Link: Climate-Conflict Governance
Despite being one of the most climate-vulnerable regions in the Philippines, BARMM’s mainland provinces are woefully neglected in national adaptation plans. There is little to no integration between disaster preparedness and conflict early warning systems. This siloed approach ignores the complex reality: in places like Maguindanao and Lanao, a flood is never just a flood. It is a trigger, an accelerant, a force that reopens wounds and destabilizes communities.
The call of Climate Conflict Action Asia is clear and urgent. In their May 22, 2025 statement, they lay out a four-point action plan—starting with equitable relief, faster fund deployment, and community-led early response. This is not just good policy; it is the only path forward.
A Test for BARMM’s Institutions—and the Peace Process
Whether BARMM can weather this crisis will define not only its credibility but the fate of the peace process itself. With the parliamentary elections looming in October, the legitimacy of BARMM’s leadership will rest on whether it can rise above patronage politics and deliver justice in disaster response.
Will aid be distributed fairly, or used as leverage? Will the regional government listen to the most affected—youth, women, Indigenous and displaced peoples—or will their voices drown in bureaucratic inertia? The answer to these questions will determine if communities continue to believe in ballots over bullets.
From Flood to Future: A Call to Action
This moment demands leadership rooted in empathy, competence, and political will. The BARMM government and national agencies must act swiftly and fairly. But beyond immediate relief, there must be systemic integration of climate resilience into peacebuilding frameworks. The crises in Mindanao cannot be solved by treating the environment and conflict as separate issues. They are interwoven—and so must be the solutions.
Because in BARMM today, every drop of water carries not just the memory of rain, but the weight of decades-long struggle for land, justice, and peace.
If we fail to see this dual reality, we risk more than floods. We risk another generation lost to violence, poverty, and despair.
Author’s Note: This piece draws upon the recent statement by the Climate Conflict Action Asia and the Early Response Network on the floods and displacement in Maguindanao del Sur, issued May 22, 2025.