02/08/2025
๐ช๐ต๐ฎ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฒ๐ ๐ฆ๐๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐
๐ถ๐ ๐ ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ป ๐ณ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ฎ๐ป๐ด๐๐ฎ๐บ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ผ ๐๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ป๐๐ถ๐๐?
President Bongbong Marcos recently signed Executive Order (EO) No. 91, dated July 31, 2025, transferring Sulu province to Region IX (Zamboanga Peninsula) from the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM). This EO implements the Supreme Court decision affirming that in the 2001 plebiscite, Sulu voted against joining the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM)โthe predecessor of BARMM.
More than two decades later, that plebiscite result has finally been enforced. On paper, itโs a matter of legal compliance. But on the ground, it raises deeper questions.
With Sulu now out of BARMM territory, what does this mean for the people who collectively fought for self-determination under a shared Bangsamoro identity? Is this just a territorial adjustment, or something more seriousโa fragmentation of identity?
For years, Sulu was part of BARMM in function, policy, and political representation. Its leaders were in the Bangsamoro Parliament. Its people accessed services from Bangsamoro ministries. And despite historical differences, there was a working sense that the people of Sulu were part of the broader project of self-governance in Muslim Mindanao.
Now that itโs been administratively transferred to Region IX, what happens to that sense of shared struggle and future? The Bangsamoro identity has never been just about lines on a map. It is rooted in a long history of resistance, autonomy movements, and cultural ties that predate both ARMM and BARMM.
Removing Sulu from BARMM may comply with a legal ruling, but it doesn't erase the fact that many Tausลซgsโlike other Moro groupsโhave seen themselves as part of the same historical arc. This move risks undermining the cohesion that BARMM has tried to foster since 2019. It could potentially revive feelings of exclusion, or even open the door to calls for alternative forms of autonomy, separate from BARMM and from the central government.
The decision also presents a challenge to the definition of Bangsamoro itself. Without Sulu, how do we now frame the identity of a region that includes Maguindanao, Lanao del Sur, Basilan, and Tawi-Tawiโbut not one of its most historically significant provinces? Do we now define Bangsamoro by legal technicalities, or by the people who continue to live its identity?
This moment forces us to reexamine what it truly means to be Bangsamoro. Is it about inclusion in a political region? Or is it about shared memory, culture, and the ongoing aspiration for dignity and self-rule?
The EO may comply with SC's ruling and settles a legal question. But it leaves open a more important one: What is the future of the Bangsamoro identity without Sulu?
