A war of conquest under tropical skies if carried on with scrupulous
regard for the rules of civilized warfare should not differ from any
other struggle, no matter how bitterly contested. Examination of the
casualties in the fiercest struggles of the nineteenth century, for
example, show always a striking similarity between the proportion of
men killed and the men wounded on the field of battle. Generally this
ratio is six to one, or at least five to one, that is to say, for every
one man killed in battle five or six victims are wounded.
Thus, for example, in the great Boer War this ratio is substantially
borne out. At the battle of Magersfontein there were killed, 171;
wounded 691; at Colenso, killed 50; wounded 847. In all the battles
waged in British East Africa from October, 1899, to June, 1900, killed
2518; wounded 11,405[1].
If we go back a few years and examine the greatest battles of the
Civil War, the ratio is even more accurately shown. Thus, at Antietam
where the Federal forces attacked, there were killed 2,010; wounded
9,416; at Fredericksburg where the attack was made under a withering
fire of rifle and cannon, killed 1,180; wounded 9,028; at the three
day battle of Gettysburg, killed 2,834; wounded 13,709; at Cold Harbor
where the carnage was frightful, killed 1,905 wounded 10,570[2].
Thus it is seen that in no war where the usages of civilized warfare
have been respected has the number of killed approached the number of
wounded more nearly than in these figures. The proportion as shown
remains constant—about five wounded to one killed.
Turn now to the Philippine campaign where the aim of the military
administration was to be one which would “win the confidence, respect
and affection of the inhabitants of the Philippines”[3]. What do the
official war records show? Almost the reverse, that is to say that for
every Filipino wounded in battle, five were killed. Thus, in northern
Luzon whose people, said Secretary of War Root, “received us (United
States) with open arms,” the official records show that 1,014 Filipinos
were killed and only 95 wounded[4]. Losses by guerrilla warfare in
southern Luzon are almost as convincing. There were, from November 1,
1899, to September 1, 1900, 3,227 killed and only 694 wounded. About
2,800 surrendered during this period.
What do these comparative figures of killed and wounded mean? How
may they be accounted for? General MacArthur attempted to give an
explanation at the time. He said it arose “from the fact that our
soldiers are trained in what we call ‘fire discipline,’ that is, target
practice. In other words, they know how to shoot.”[5] But with the same
breath he freely admits that “the Boer is the best individual marksman
in the world.”[6]
Is it to be believed that the best marksmen in the world, opposed to
English soldiers who notoriously fought in the open, killed only one in
four of the men they hit, whereas the Americans in numerous skirmishes
killed every man they hit, and on an average nearly five out of six?
The absurdity of such an explanation is heightened by the report of the
Inspector-General of the Division, Colonel Garlington, who during the
campaign testified that:
Target practice has been, from the necessities of the case, almost
entirely neglected. This important part of the modern soldier’s
education should receive prompt attention, and be vigorously
prosecuted. At present the army is largely composed of new men
without practice or skill in shooting[7].
What then is the real explanation? It is found in the statements from
the Americans engaged in the contest, officers as well as soldiers.
These signed statements were published in the newspapers of America and
they all severely indicated the brutality with which the war was being
conducted.
Among the first descriptions to reach this country was that from L. F.
Adams of Ozark, Missouri. Referring to the first battle of the war,
that of February 5, he said:
In the path of the Washington regiment and Battery D of the Sixth
Artillery there were 1,008 dead niggers and a great many wounded.
We burned all their houses. I don’t know how many men, women and
children the Tennessee boys did kill. They would not take any
prisoners.
More reliable testimony is furnished by the American war correspondents
stationed in the islands. It will be remembered that these men had
previously joined in a protest denouncing the censorship of Manila
dispatches. The General Manager of the Associated Press ordered an
investigation and the reply from one of the correspondents, Robert M.
Collins, contained a statement of a conversation held between General
Otis and the protesting correspondents en masse. The following
is but a sample of it. Said Mr. Collins:
In that connection we reminded him that the stories of looting in
soldiers’ letters home had been little, if any exaggerated. Davis
and Bass told him they had personally seen our soldiers bayonetting
the wounded, and I reminded him that the cutting off of ears of two
American soldiers at Damariscotta had been merely retaliation for
similar mutilations of dead Filipinos by the Americans.
(No one could possibly tell stronger stories of the looting and
blackmailing by our soldiers than Otis has told although he charges
it all to the volunteers.)
There has been according to Otis himself, and the personal
knowledge of everyone here, a perfect orgy of looting and wanton
destruction of property and most outrageous blackmailing of the
natives and Chinamen in Manila, and various incidents like the
shooting down of several Filipinos for attempting to run from
arrest at a cock fight.
Here was then a statement by well-known correspondents. It was no
anonymous slander. The witnesses were ready. Now was the time to
investigate, to punish the offenders and to institute a reform. But
what was done? Nothing so far as the public records show.
The first investigations which finally resulted from the innumerable
letters coming from the soldiers themselves, was the case of Charles
Brenner, a private in a Kansas regiment. Speaking of the battle of
Caloocan, he wrote to his mother:
Company I had taken a few prisoners and stopped. The colonel
ordered them up into line time after time, and finally sent Captain
Bishop back to start them. Then occurred the hardest sight I ever
saw. They had four prisoners and didn’t know what to do with them.
They asked Captain Bishop what to do; and he said, “You know the
orders,” and four natives fell dead[8].
What did the military authorities do about this accusation as shown
by the official records? On June 10, 1899, or four months after
the statement was made, Brenner’s letter was referred by General
MacArthur’s order to the inspector general of the division for
investigation. What did this investigation show? It showed the
testimony of several other witnesses that Captain Bishop had admitted
giving the orders, that several others had heard the order given by
some one, while one witness (Private Putnam) testified that he with
others, had done the shooting. Captain Flanders testified that he
ordered the prisoners to the rear, and heard some one give the order to
shoot them. A lieutenant heard some one say (he thought at the time it
was Captain Bishop) “Kill them! damn it, kill them!” Another witness
testified that on the day of the battle, “word was passed along the
line that orders were to take no prisoners”[9].
Now at least, an investigation had been made and the facts found as
a result of it were then reported to the highest authority in the
Islands. This investigation conclusively showed at least three things:
- That a crime had been committed—i.e., the killing of the
prisoners.
- That Private Putnam admitted having done the shooting itself
but said that he had done it in obedience to the orders from
his superior officer, Captain Bishop.
- That the remaining evidence incriminating Bishop was very
strong.
Arraigned against all this was Bishop’s denial, in the form of a
written statement, that he had given such orders.
What steps were taken to punish the guilty parties? This much was done.
General Otis believing Captain Bishop’s denial at once recommended
that young Brenner, whose letter had brought about the investigation
be court-martialled “for writing and conniving at the publication of
the article which brought about this investigation” containing a false
charge against Captain Bishop[10]. In other words, Otis proposed to
punish the soldier whose statement led to the discovery that a crime
had in fact been committed, instead of finding and punishing the
criminal.
Nor was this all. Otis further recommended that Private Putnam, the
man who had admitted that he shot the prisoners, be tried also by court
martial, thus urging the punishment of a private for obeying orders but
letting the man who gave them go free.
But if Otis had been so tactless in his acts, he was after all saved
from the folly of what he proposed to do. The Judge Advocate, Lieut.
Col. E. H. Crowder, to whom these recommendations were sent, knew
better than to follow them up. He therefore wrote to Otis on July 3,
1899, urging that the matter be dropped, saying:
I am not convinced from a careful reading of this report that
Private Brenner has made a false charge against Captain Bishop.
It is certain that the evidence is far from conclusive that he
did so.
Nor would the Judge Advocate prosecute Private Putnam for slaying the
prisoners because, he said, Putnam’s defense “would be the lawful order
of his superior officer.” “If put on trial,” added the Judge Advocate,
“it is probable that facts would develop implicating many others.”
Hence followed his advice to this effect, “I doubt the propriety of
this trial, and am of the opinion that considerations of public policy
sufficiently grave to silence every other demand require that no
further action be taken in this case”[11].
This recommendation was acted upon by Otis. The War Department in
Washington followed Otis’ advice and the record stands showing that
the highest authorities declined to punish proven acts of barbarity
not because the guilt of the accused was in doubt but because it was
probable “that facts would develop implicating many others”; not
because there was no reason, but because there was too much reason.
Nay, the Commander-in-Chief had even actually proposed to punish the
witness (Brenner) who had made the crime known, and let the criminal go
free. Is it not also probable that this latter mark of severity against
the unfortunate Brenner made itself felt throughout the army, and that
the word was passed along the ranks, “Whatever you see, it is not safe
to tell!” The strange thing is that soldiers did continue to tell with
increasing frequency.
During this sad episode of the conquest, however, there were some
convictions of both enlisted men as well as officers. Rule No. 44 of
General Order 100 strictly provides that
all wanton violence committed against persons in the invaded
country; all destruction of property not commanded by the
authorized officer; all robbery, all pillage or sacking even after
taking a place by main force; all rape, wounding, maiming, or
killing of such inhabitants,—are prohibited under penalty of death
or such other severe punishment, as may seem adequate for the
gravity of the offense.
If the guilty party is an officer, his punishment should naturally
be as severe as the military law permits, for misconduct by one in
authority is more pernicious and harmful. The Secretary of War’s
own memorandum of February 17, 1901, therefore, will be taken and
examined[12]. This choice list compiled and made accessible to the
public showing the trials of forty-four men, ten of whom were officers,
opens to us only so much of the proceedings as the Secretary permits us
to see. What does it show?
Of these ten officers, one was tried and convicted for “firing into
town and looting.” Under General Order No. 100 Rule 44, such an offense
is generally punishable by death. But in this case the officer was
sentenced to—a reprimand.
The second officer, Lieut. Bissell Thomas, of the 35th Volunteer
Infantry, was convicted for assaulting prisoners and cruelty. The Court
furthermore said that the accused’s acts were “very severe and amounted
almost to acute torture” and that they “cannot be too much deplored nor
too emphatically denounced.” He was sentenced to a “reprimand” and a
fine of three hundred dollars.
The third officer was convicted of “looting and encouraging the same,”
and the fourth of “permitting looting.” Both were sentenced to—a
reprimand.
The next two officers were convicted of “torture by causing natives
to be hung by the neck for ten seconds.” The culprits here were a
Lieutenant Perkins and a Captain Brandle. In Brandle’s case[13] the
Court found as a fact that he did hang two Filipinos by the neck
for ten seconds each on May 26, 1900. Disliking the word “torture,”
however, the Court substituted the words “inflict mental anguish upon,”
as if hanging by the neck were physically delightful. Here was an
absolute case of torture found as a fact, yet when the time came for
the sentence his brother officers sentenced him to—a reprimand.
Which shows how little indignation was felt by the other officers of
the army.
The case of Lieutenant Perkins was very similar. He too was found
guilty of hanging two natives by the neck in the same fashion. But the
military court not only changed the accusation of “torture” to “mental
anguish,” but also imposed a sentence of “a reprimand.”
The last conviction was that of First Lieutenant Brown of the 2d
Infantry who was found guilty of “killing a prisoner of war.” This was
clearly a plain case of murder, but the sentence meted was dismissal
from the service and imprisonment for five years. This punishment looks
severe in the light of the others, but the record of the case does
not stop here, for on January 27, 1902, this sentence was commuted to
a loss of thirty-five places in the army list and the forfeiture of
one-half pay for nine months. Outside of that the accused was permitted
to regain his position in the army.
The remaining three officers tried were acquitted.
Here then were seven convictions of officers standing high in the
records of the army, convictions of looting, torture and murder. Here
were crimes justly punishable by death in ordinary cases, and yet
under tropical skies they resulted in five reprimands, one fine and a
reprimand, and one loss of numbers and half pay for a few months. What
did this record say to the rest of the army,—what effect could it have
produced in checking similar offenses during the campaigning?
This comedy of errors is magnified when we consider the military orders
current at that time. On March 19, 1899, no less a personage than
General Otis himself, having found it necessary to give more explicit
orders for the conduct of his army, issued the following warning:
Commanding generals of divisions will make renewed efforts to
impress upon the troops of their commands the necessity of
exercising the greatest vigilance to insure the protection of
private property, not only in this city, but wherever they may
be quartered or acting.... The burning or looting of houses or
buildings of any description or the abuse of unarmed citizens will
be punished with the utmost severity known to military law[14].
These were indeed strong words,—on paper. For the specific cases we
have just touched show that when a few months afterwards Lieutenant
Capp fired and looted a town he received “a reprimand,”[15] while
Lieutenant Ellison “for looting and encouraging looting” also received
the same punishment[16]. “The utmost severity known to military law,”
indeed!
From the latter part of 1900 until 1902 no other officer seems to have
been convicted,—in fact only one was tried and he for having improper
relations with native women. On April 15, 1902, however, we find an
order for the court martial of General Smith. Here was a sensational
case surely. What do the records show?
General Smith had been in charge of subduing the island of Samar and
his first step had been to install a system of reconcentration. For
the benefit of those unfamiliar with this drastic term, it should be
explained that reconcentration (as practised by Weyler in Cuba and
the American commanders in the Philippines) means the establishment
of a certain prescribed zone or place where the people of a district
may be herded together. The establishment of this zone is announced by
proclamation or otherwise some days in advance and all persons must
leave their homes and come within this area, there to remain until
further orders. All persons found outside that zone are then treated as
public enemies.
Such a method of putting down a rebellion is naturally attended with
great hardships. Crops are left to ruin, homes are deserted, and the
peaceful as well as the active suffer alike. It was the establishment
of such camps in Cuba with the attendant horrors that finally led to
the Spanish American War. How the practice of reconcentration affected
McKinley when the Spaniards practised it in Cuba, may be expressed in
his own words:
It was not civilized warfare [he told Congress], but a new and
inhuman phase happily unprecedented in the modern history of
civilized Christian people.... It was extermination. The only peace
it could beget was that of the wilderness and the grave.
“The steps of the White House are slippery with the blood of the
reconcentrados,” said Roosevelt. And yet in the Philippines, however,
three years after the Filipino-American war was begun and a year
after civil government was supposed to be established under the
just administration of Governor Taft, and no person supposed to be
deprived of “life, liberty or property without due process of law,”
reconcentration camps began to flourish.
But General Smith was not tried for establishing these camps, for they
were also used in other provinces of the archipelago. In fact, as late
as June 1, 1903, the civil government in Manila, headed by Mr. Taft,
passed a law permitting the establishment of such camps[17]. Smith’s
difficulties instead came about as a result of the method by which he
enforced obedience to these orders.
It happened that on November 4, 1901, the Manila Times, an
American daily, gave an account of the progress of the military arm in
Samar, which then had a population of 250,000. It stated that General
Smith had been in that little island for ten days and that his strong
policy was already making itself felt. To continue,
He had already ordered all natives to present themselves in
certain of the coast towns saying that those who were found
outside would be shot and no questions asked. The time limit
had expired ... and General Smith was as good as his word.
The policy of reconcentration is said to be the most effective
thing of the kind ever seen under any flag. All suspects including
Spaniards and half-breeds were rounded up in big stockades and kept
under guard.
This news item was published in Manila. Surely, it must have come to
the attention of General Chaffee or the War Department at the time.
But were any steps taken to investigate or to stay the hand of General
Smith? None. Nothing was done until February 4, of the following
year, 1902, when this statement was brought to the attention of the
United States Senate as a result of a petition signed by ex-Senator
Edmunds, S. L. Clemens (Mark Twain), some thirty-six professors of the
University of Chicago and many other notables in private life. These
gentlemen asked that the matter be investigated and that such practices
be stopped. Surely the Secretary of War could not plead ignorance to
this demand from responsible citizens. But did he take any positive
action to investigate or to stop these practices? So far as the record
shows, none! The order to try General Smith by court martial was not
given till April 15.
The real gravity of the Smith offense would apparently seem to be worse
than that pictured in the newspaper item. To quote from Secretary
Root’s letter to the President on July 12, he stated that Smith had
given the following oral instruction:
“I want no prisoners. I wish you to kill and burn: the more you
kill and burn the better you will please me,” and further, that he
wanted all persons killed who were capable of bearing arms and in
actual hostilities against the United States, and did in reply to
a question by Major Waller asking for an age limit, designate the
limit as ten years of age.
It will be observed that in this accusation by the Secretary, which
is grave enough on its face, the Secretary interpolated the words,
“in actual hostilities against the United States,” after the phrase
“capable of bearing arms.” But the dispatches which came from Manila in
the course of the trial which were never questioned clearly refute that
mitigating phrase. For General Smith’s counsel was quoted as saying,
General Smith did give instructions to Major Waller to “kill and
burn” and “make Samar a howling wilderness,” and he admits that he
wanted everybody killed capable of bearing arms, and that he did
specify all over ten years of age, as the Samar boys of that age
were equally as dangerous as their elders.
The accused bore his trial like a man. He admitted giving the orders.
He did not seek to excuse them on the ground that his words were
reckless talk,—on the contrary, he sought to justify them. On the
solitary question, therefore, of whether or no he had given the order
the reviewing officers of high rank found him guilty and sentenced him
“to be admonished.”
Even the Boston Transcript, one of the strongest supporters of
the Washington administration, could not refrain from saying that this
sentence was “the very lightest penalty that could be awarded for such
an offence against humanity and the laws of war,” adding that had the
President done no more “the proceedings of the court martial would have
been about as effective as firing a blank cartridge against an armed
enemy.”
The representatives of the army upon the court martial were, however,
satisfied with this blank cartridge.
When these results were transmitted to the Secretary of War, surely
there was an opportunity for him to show manly indignation at General
Smith’s inhuman order. But instead of that he sought to justify the
leniency of the court on the ground that Smith did not really mean
what he said and that his subordinates so understood it. This might
conceivably sound probable having come from a man like Mr. Root were we
not confronted with official reports from Smith’s subordinates in the
course of the campaign showing how they really interpreted the command
of their superior officer. Said Major Waller on November 23, 1901[18]:
On the march to Liruan the second column, fifty men, under Captain
Bears, in accordance with my orders, destroyed all villages and
houses, burning in all one hundred and sixty-five.... I wish to
go southward a little, destroying all houses and crops, and, if
possible, get the rifles from Balangiga. This plan has been
explained to the General (Smith), meeting his approval[19].
This, when viewed in the light of a subsequent endorsement by General
Smith himself to the effect that the aforementioned Major Waller
“carries out my wishes loyally and gallantly,” and recommending that he
be awarded another brevet, speaks for itself.
Fire and looting, killing to exterminate, refusal to take prisoners
of war,—there are some of the outrages we have found from such
official records as are opened to us. What else do we find from other
independent and official sources? The Weir charges are the first to
attract attention among the many available.
On the tenth of April, 1901, Andrew K. Weir, a private in the Fourth
Cavalry, wrote a letter to his uncle, charging Lieutenant Frederick
Arnold and Sergeant Edwards of his regiment with outrageous cruelty to
a Filipino prisoner who was stripped naked, given the water torture in
the most revolting manner, whipped and beaten unmercifully while he
was down, kicked, strung up by the thumbs and then his ankles tied and
his feet jerked from under him. Young Weir was an eye witness of this
cruelty and complained to Lieutenant Arnold, who told him:
When I give a man to Sergeant Edwards, I want information. I do not
know how he gets it; but he gets it anyway.
Weir also charged Arnold with cutting a strip from the man’s ankle,
attaching it to a piece of wood, and then coiling the flesh up his shin
bone; with having an old man held under water until he was unconscious;
with tying several times a man to a saddled horse with a few feet
of slack, and then making the rider gallop, dragging the victim if
he could not keep up. For all these charges, Weir said that he had
witnesses.
These serious charges were eventually brought to the attention of the
War Department. The matter was thereupon referred for investigation
to the inspector general of Northern Luzon. This officer, Captain P.
W. West of the Fifth Infantry, subsequently turned in his findings on
August 27, 1901, reporting a mass of testimony proving that Weir’s
charges were true. The inspector general also added:
I believe that a thorough investigation into this matter will
substantiate the charges made by Private Weir, that prisoners were
treated in a cruel and harsh manner, and that Lieutenant Arnold
winked at this treatment.
Here certainly was an instance where the preliminary reports of an
army investigator largely substantiated the charges. But although this
report was sent to the Secretary of War on August 27, 1901, he omitted
to send it along with his other reports to the Senate on February 17,
1902. The matter would probably have been entirely ignored had not
Senator Culberson introduced a resolution asking for these papers.
Senator Lodge came to the rescue of the administration, however, by
expressing his wish to find out whether a court martial had been
ordered. A few days later Secretary Root answered by saying that a
court martial had been ordered for Edwards, the sergeant, but not for
Arnold, the Lieutenant, but neither he nor anyone else friendly to the
administration offered to say when this was done. The only inference
that can be drawn is that no court martial had been ordered until
Senator Culberson’s motion forced them to do so.
The most unfortunate result of these hideous crimes and the laxity of
the discipline with which they were combatted, was the moral effect it
had on the American soldiers, failing as it did to check the progress
of such inhuman acts under tropical skies. Take the water cure, for
example, which was widely used in order to force the native prisoner to
divulge information.
An extract in the New York Evening Post of April 8, 1902,
describes this method of conducting war most vividly as in distinct
violation of the Articles of War.
Says the letter:
But the water cure! If the tortures I’ve mentioned are hellish, the
water cure is plain hell. The native is thrown upon the ground,
and, while his legs and arms are pinned, his head is raised
partially so as to make pouring in the water an easier matter. An
attempt to keep the mouth closed is of no avail; a bamboo stick or
a pinching of the nose will produce the same effect. And now the
water is poured in, and swallow the poor wretch must or strangle. A
gallon of water is much but it is followed by a second and a third.
By this time the victim is certain his body is about to burst. But
he is mistaken, for a fourth and even a fifth gallon are poured in.
By this time the body becomes an object frightful to contemplate.
While in this condition, speech is impossible, and so the water
must be squeezed out of him. This is sometimes allowed to occur
naturally, but it is sometimes hastened by pressure, and “sometimes
we jump on them to get it out quick,” said a young soldier to
me with a smile—a young soldier, a mere boy hardly ten years out
of his mother’s lap.... Does it seem possible that cruelty could
further go? And what must we think of the fortitude of the native
when we learn that many times the “cure” is twice given ere the
native yields? I heard of one who took it three times and died.
How often does it happen? is a natural question. No one knows. A
sergeant told me he had seen it taken by between two and three
hundred, by as many as twenty sometimes in a day. Another had seen
eighty. An officer saw four, but knew of its happening two hundred
times.
Another phase of the subject merits our attention,—the effect
upon the American. The unconcerned way in which the soldiers and
civilians speak of the water cure, the exulting way in most cases,
is the saddest phase of all.... These things are not lovely, but
they are true.
Indeed, what more evidence of this is needed than that even an army
judge advocate like Captain Glenn ordered such a water cure and, on
being court-martialed and found guilty, was sentenced to pay a fine
of fifty dollars, which is one half the fine that may be imposed for
spitting on a public street car in Boston!
All these charges and convictions, all these reliable accusations,
as well as the official copies of the orders given by General Bell
in Batangas and General Smith in Samar directing that the war be
conducted in the most rigorous manner possible were known to the
Secretary of War. And yet, as if to calm the public conscience which
was beginning to hear the cries of agony from the unfortunate victims
of military conquest, the Secretary of War issued an official statement
on February 17, 1902, to the effect that:
The war in the Philippines has been conducted by the American
army with scrupulous regard for the rules of civilized warfare,
with careful and genuine consideration for the prisoner and the
non-combatant, with self-restraint, and with humanity never
surpassed.
Nor was that all. Two months later in his speech at Arlington on
Decoration Day, the President himself said:
Determined and unswerving effort must be made to find out every
instance of barbarity on the part of our troops, to punish those
guilty of it, and to take, if possible, even stronger measures than
have already been taken to minimize or prevent the occurrence of
all such instances in the future.
What must we think of these words?
Here, then, were two statements carefully and deliberately planned.
Coming as they did from two of the most responsible administrators of
the nation, the statements circulated widely and served to restrain
other indignant citizens from making fruitless protests. The masses
throughout the country also took these statements at their face value
for it was easy to believe ill of one’s enemies and well of one’s kin.
But even such records only as the administration chose to open to us
and the censored dispatches from Manila tell an entirely different
story.
And now to view the product of American conquest, quietly and with
sobriety. The sudden “imperialistic impulse of 1898–1900,” as Viscount
Bryce aptly called it, had come to an end[20]. What had it achieved?
What was the future? What was to be done with the Philippines?
No one better than Senator Hoar realized the true import of the
situation. The following retrospect, perhaps, gives the most
illuminating view of the problem. Said Mr. Hoar to the imperialist
members of the Senate Chamber:
When Aguinaldo said he did not want war to go on, and that it went
on against his wish, he was told by our General that he would
not parley with him without total submission. My friend from
Wisconsin declared in the Senate that we would have no talk with
men with arms in their hands, whether we were right or wrong. The
responsibility of everything that has happened since, which he must
have foreseen if he knew something of history and human nature,
rests upon him and the men who acted with him.
We cannot get rid of this one fact, we cannot escape it and we
cannot flinch it. You chose war instead of peace. You chose
force instead of conciliation, with full notice that everything
that has happened since would happen as a consequence of your
decision. Had you made a declaration to Aguinaldo that you would
respect their title to independence, and that all you desired was
order and to fulfil the treaty and to protect your friends, you
would have disarmed that people in a moment....
Instead of that, gentlemen talked of the wealth of the Philippine
Islands, and about the advantage to our trade. They sought to
dazzle our eyes with nuggets of other men’s gold. Senators declared
in the Senate Chamber and on the hustings that the flag never
should be hauled down in the Philippine Islands, and those of you
who thought otherwise kept silent and entered no disclaimer....
What your fathers said when they founded the republic; the
Declaration of Independence; the great leaders of every generation;
our century of glorious history, were appealed to in vain. Their
lessons fell upon the ears of men dazzled by military glory and
delirious with the lust of conquest. I will not repeat them now. My
desire is simply to call attention to the practical working of the
two doctrines—the doctrine of buying sovereignty or conquering it
in battle, and the doctrine of the Declaration of Independence.
For the last three years you have put one of them in force in
Cuba and the other in the Philippine Islands. I ask you to think
soberly which method, on the whole, you like better. I ask you to
compare the cost of war with the cost of peace, of justice with
that of injustice, the cost of empire with the cost of republican
liberty.... You have tried both, I hope, to your hearts’ content.
Gentlemen talk about sentimentalities, about idealism. They like
practical statesmanship better. But, Mr. President, this whole
debate for the last four years has been a debate between two kinds
of sentimentality....
You, my imperialistic friends, have had your ideals and
sentimentalities. One is that the flag shall never be hauled down
where it has once floated. Another is that you will not talk or
reason with a people with arms in their hands. Another is that
sovereignty over an unwilling people may be bought with gold. And
another is that sovereignty may be got by force of arms, as the
booty of battle or spoils of victory.
What has been the practical statesmanship, which comes from your
ideals and sentimentalities? You have wasted six hundred millions
of treasure. You have sacrificed nearly ten thousand American
lives, the flower of our youth. You have devastated provinces.
You have slain uncounted thousands of the people you desire to
benefit. You have established reconcentration camps. Your generals
are coming home from their harvest, bringing their sheaves with
them, in the shape of other thousands of sick and wounded and
insane to drag out miserable lives, wrecked in body and mind. You
make the American flag in the eyes of a numerous people the emblem
of sacrilege in Christian churches, and of the burning of human
dwellings, and of the horror of the water torture....
Your practical statesmanship [added Mr. Hoar] has succeeded in
converting a people who three years ago were ready to kiss the hem
of the garment of the American and to welcome him as a liberator,
who thronged after your men after they landed on those islands with
benediction and gratitude, into sullen and irreconcilable enemies,
possessed of a hatred which centuries cannot eradicate.
And then came this prophecy of the future:
This war, if you call it war, has gone on for three years. It will
go on in some form for three hundred years, unless this policy is
abandoned. You will undoubtedly have times of peace and quiet, or
pretended submission. You will buy men with titles or officers
or salaries. You will intimidate cowards. You will get pretended
and fawning submission. The land will smile and smile and seem
at peace. But the volcano will be there. The lava will break out
again. You can never settle this thing until you settle it
right[21].
Men and women of today may ask on reading these pages, “Why revive
these memories that we would fain obliterate? Why add fuel to the
feeling of hostility which the Filipinos may have against us today?”
The answer is because no American today can deal with the Philippine
problem as it now stands without knowing also the history of the
conquest, for what American representatives have done in the past may
be done again. It is because with all this history behind him, the
President of the United States still asserts that the islands came to
us “unsought.”