By now, the appeal of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) to the National Government has become more than just a statement—it is a resounding cry echoing from the core of the Bangsamoro homeland. And it is not a new one. For months, the MILF, along with civil society groups in the region, have consistently and clearly urged the Marcos administration to respect and fully implement the Comprehensive Agreement on the Bangsamoro (CAB), including the conduct of the first Parliamentary Elections in the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) this coming October.
Yet despite the frequency and urgency of these appeals, the response from the national government has been conspicuously absent—either a calculated silence or a dangerous neglect. This is no longer about administrative delays or bureaucratic oversight. This is about the erosion of trust in a peace process that took decades to build.
The recent release of the MILF’s statement on July 5, 2025, reaffirming their commitment to peace and again calling on the Marcos government to honor the signed agreements, should not be treated as just another press release. It is a pointed reminder that peace cannot be sustained by paper alone—it must be backed by political will, mutual respect, and, above all, integrity.
Let’s be clear: the MILF is not asking for favors. They are simply asking for what was already promised under the 2014 CAB—a product of hard negotiations, painful compromises, and the blood of thousands lost in decades of conflict. Among its provisions is the eventual transition to a regular parliamentary government within the Bangsamoro region, culminating in the first democratic regional elections. The delay or derailment of this electoral process not only undermines the MILF’s standing but also chips away at the legitimacy of the entire peace architecture.
The Marcos administration’s unilateral replacement of former Chief Minister Ahod “Al Haj Murad” Ebrahim with Abdulraof Macacua, while legally within the powers of the President, sends a troubling message. Though Ebrahim himself has maintained a respectful posture—appearing alongside Macacua in public events and affirming unity—it does not erase the underlying implication: that the central government can override autonomous mechanisms without due consultation, without regard to the spirit of the peace agreement, and without considering its broader impact on the ground.
This is precisely what the MILF and many in the Bangsamoro fear: the slow unraveling of a fragile peace through piecemeal implementation and top-down maneuvering. If the peace process is seen as negotiable—subject to the whims of changing administrations—then what guarantees remain for its long-term success?
The July 5 appeal also brings into focus the recent Resolution No. 2/51-MM from the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), which rightly calls for the full and swift implementation of both the 1996 Final Peace Agreement with the MNLF and the 2014 CAB with the MILF. The OIC is not meddling—it is holding the Philippine government accountable to the very agreements it helped broker and supported internationally. To ignore this is to ignore the voice of the global Muslim community and to endanger the legitimacy of our democratic and diplomatic commitments.
The Bangsamoro peace process has long been held up as a model—not just for conflict resolution in the Philippines, but globally. But models are only as strong as the people who uphold them. And right now, the silence of the Marcos administration is not just disappointing; it is dangerous.
What’s at stake is not just the future of MILF or the scheduled election. It is the future of millions of Bangsamoro who dared to believe that peace was possible. It is the credibility of a government that signed agreements in good faith, and the stability of a region that has suffered too much to be dragged back into the shadows of armed resistance and state neglect.
The MILF has, time and again, reiterated its commitment to a peaceful, democratic, and inclusive process. It has worked tirelessly with local and international stakeholders, supported the decommissioning of weapons, and pushed for development across the region. And now, it is asking, not just the government, but the Filipino nation: will you stand by the promises made?
Will we let the peace we have built crumble under the weight of indifference?
Civil society groups, international observers, and the Bangsamoro themselves have made their stance clear: the peace process must be respected, the agreements must be honored, and the elections must push through.
The Marcos administration must respond—not later, not eventually, but now.
The risk of inaction is far too great. Should this appeal be ignored again, the consequences will not be abstract. The fragile peace in the region could fracture. Disillusionment may rise, not only among former combatants but across the youth of the Bangsamoro, who have been promised a better future and may instead inherit uncertainty and disappointment.
And if the government thinks that the Bangsamoro people will simply wait patiently while promises remain unfulfilled, it would do well to remember that this is a people who have fought and died for their right to self-determination. They are no strangers to struggle—but they have chosen peace. Let us not betray that choice.
We urge President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and his administration to act with urgency, wisdom, and respect. The peace agreements are not mere political handshakes—they are moral contracts with a people who have long been marginalized.
The time to honor them is now.
Before history remembers us not for what we built, but for what we allowed to fall apart.