TO WHAT END do Filipinos labor for sustainability, if the very hands sworn to safeguard our land are the primary agents of its destruction? With developments surrounding the eviction of the Masungi Georeserve Foundation (MGFI), a threat to the gift of creation urgently calls on the Bedan community, as stewards of Laudato Si’, to rise and respond. 

Nestled in the southern portion of the Sierra Madre range in Baras, Rizal, the Masungi Georeserve is a revitalized watershed within the Upper Marikina River Basin Protected Landscape, providing water to millions in Metro Manila and nearby provinces. It is a living, breathing example of what radical environmental care can achieve.        

Under the partnership of the non-profit MGFI with Blue Star Construction and Development Corp., decades of work have turned what was once marred by illegal logging, quarrying, and land grabbing to an internationally recognized model of community-led conservation. 

“If we forsake the Philippines’ natural heritage, such as Masungi, and continue to dismiss the pleas of its caretakers, Filipinos of tomorrow will inherit a world impoverished by the very systems that are meant to protect it.”

And yet, despite this success — or perhaps because of it — the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) has moved to evict the very foundation that brought this land back to life. Citing alleged “legal infirmities” in their 1997 Joint Venture Agreement and its 2002 supplemental provisions, Undersecretary Juan Miguel Cuna claims the foundation’s violations ranging from restrictive access for DENR officials to the imposition of fees “not provided” in an outdated eco-tourism plan.  

This maneuver, undertaken by the very agency tasked with protecting our nation’s ecological lifelines, is far from benign. Though veiled in the guise of legality, DENR’s decision lays bare a sinister truth behind the state’s growing tendency to weaponize administrative power against environmental defenders, all while paving the way for encroaching commercial interests. 

Echoing MGFI’s statement, such revocation is blatantly part of a more insidious effort to weaken environmental protection and silence advocates. 

With an eviction notice issued last March 7 giving Blue Star and MGFI just 15 days to vacate, threatening to dismantle conservation infrastructure, displace forest rangers and their families, and undo decades of ecological progress, one is left to question the urgency: Why such haste to dictate who may speak for the land, with so little regard for those who have long stood in its defense? 

With time bought from MGFI’s persistent efforts, alongside the support of advocates, to appeal to President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. to halt the order and facilitate a peaceful dialogue, we must understand that this conflict reflects a larger pattern of political ecology in the Philippines, revealing how conservation lands are constantly under siege by opportunist developers using antiquated land claims to mask prospects of exploiting our natural resources. 

To displace Masungi is to expose the Sierra Madre, our nation’s natural bulwark against typhoons, to renewed commodification. If Masungi falls, it sets a precedent that signals to future generations that ecological commitment is optional, disposable, and negotiable. 

Now, I call on the Bedan community to reflect on how legal mechanisms are not immune to moral scrutiny. If we forsake the Philippines’ natural heritage, such as Masungi, and continue to dismiss the pleas of its caretakers, Filipinos of tomorrow will inherit a world impoverished by the very systems that are meant to protect it.