The conquest of the Philippines by the United States, 1898-1925

It is difficult to understand the situation existing in the Philippines when the first gun was fired in Manila Bay without first turning back the pages of history for a brief period. Much can be conveyed to the reader, however, in explaining the grievances of many decades against the colonial government, by saying that the Spanish system in the islands was essentially the same as that followed in her South American possessions, including the island of Cuba. What differences there may have existed were purely of degree,—the atrocities committed in the Oriental colony being the worse⁠[1]. In the clerical predominance, in the power of the Church, in the baseness of its industrial and economic organization and the shallowness of the governmental machinery in every branch,—the situation in the Philippines was the exact replica of that found in Cuba.

Prior to 1872, some thirty-four major and minor revolts against the foreign authority had already taken place in different localities of the archipelago. Most of them were short-lived, and practically all had been suppressed by the better-trained Spanish regulars, though not without much bloodshed and extreme cruelties. It was between the years 1868–72, however, that the new era in the Philippines really began. It was then that the storm broke as a result of three important and closely allied events occurring almost together.

The first was the opening of the Suez canal which brought the Islands closer to Europe. This bond was supplemented later by the laying of the commercial cables, so that the Philippines learned to think with the rest of the world. The proverbial Oriental content with despotism now gave way to the yearning for self-expression, for nationalism, and for freedom.

The second was the continuation, but in a more flagrant form, of racial discrimination between the Spanish born whites and the native Malays. This was specially manifested by the removal of Filipino priests from their parishes to make way for the Spanish Recollets. The indignation that swept the Filipino laymen at this act which they considered unjustified is difficult to measure. But it marked the day when they began to harbor thoughts against the Spaniards which they dared not speak aloud.

The third event which wrought considerable changes in the Islands was the founding of the short-lived Republic in Spain, for it was between these years that Queen Isabella was overthrown and the Spanish radicals gained the ascendancy. The movement was short-lived, but during that brief period many radical and progressive officials had come to Manila and planted in the minds of the natives some new and startling ideas about democracy, equality and practical self-government. Furthermore, these newly arrived officials bluntly and openly pointed out the shortcomings and autocracy of the clergy who, it must be remembered, were the most hated and feared representatives of Spain⁠[2].

It is not surprising, then, that all the ancient grievances of the past now received an added airing. In the face of it, however, the friars kept up their courage and when the downfall of the Spanish liberals again placed them in a position where they could wreak vengeance, they immediately did so. The wholesale arrests, the garrotings, the cruel punishments inflicted after the most flagrant of mock trials have been recounted too often to be repeated here. Suffice it to say that the most unspeakable instruments of torture employed in the days of the Inquisition were revived and used. Wholesale deportations followed to the Carolines, to Jolo, Balabac, Ceuta, Fernando Po, the Ladrone Islands, and even to far away Africa. Many men, members of wealthy Filipino families, succeeded in escaping to Europe where they could air their pleas for better government with safety.

There were also wholesale executions, and much innocent blood was sacrificed. Among the victims of this sad episode were three beloved Filipino priests, one of whom was so old and so feeble that he was carried to the scaffold. The evidence of mutiny against them all was so doubtful that the Roman Catholic Church stubbornly refused to degrade them. The Archbishop was so thoroughly convinced of their innocence that he allowed them to wear their priestly robes to the gallows.

This policy of wanton cruelty, instead of inspiring the natives with fear, drew them together. A new nation was here conceived, and the time came when the Filipinos, instead of looking towards Spain as the land to which they owed allegiance, turned to the Philippines as the true father-land. All this occurred in 1872.

In the years that followed the movement grew. The native exiles living in Spain and other continental countries, drawn together by a common grievance and a common desire to better the fate of their countrymen, founded societies and established newspapers in which they recounted their wrongs and asked for reforms. Many of them were joined by their sons who came for their education, but felt that they were also charged with a sacred mission for the good of their country as well as of Spain. Many writings of these men were secretly circulated in the Philippines where they had a considerable influence. The most important was undoubtedly a novel written by Dr. Jose Rizal, a native Filipino then studying in the University of Heidelberg. Noli me Tangere it was called and it depicted the evils of the friar system in the Islands and the injustice that resulted from it. This novel which was smuggled into the Islands became the Uncle Tom’s Cabin of the movement, and Rizal rose to the prominence which he richly deserved. The book was, of course, condemned by the Spanish officials and native houses were searched in the hope of locating copies and punishing their owners. Yet most of the available copies circulated secretly for years: truly a remarkable proof of Filipino unity.

In 1892, fully knowing the danger which a visit to the Islands meant, the gentle idealist returned to the Philippines. Shortly after his arrival he formed a “Philippine League.” The predominating idea of this society was of the peaceful type, for it sought merely educational, moral and economic progress. In fact, it was too mild a plan for many Filipinos. Nevertheless, the Spaniards seized the only Filipino leader who, more than any other malcontent, stood for peace and cooperation with the Spanish government and exiled him to the southern island of Mindanao. It was sheer blundering stupidity, for by doing it they raised the already venerated leader to a pinnacle difficult to exaggerate⁠[3].

With Rizal as an exile in distant Mindanao, the other native leaders now abandoned all thought of securing reform through peaceful methods. They turned to direct action as the last resort. A small secret society under the leadership of Andres Bonifacio was formed, and it soon became the most powerful insurrectionary body in the Islands. It was called the “Katipunan,” and its doors were opened to both rich and poor alike. To the many thousands of able-bodied Filipinos who joined it, the society was almost like a new religion. It is worth while to examine the ideals taught to the Neophytes. Here were some of them:

All men are equal, regardless of the color of their skin.

The life which is not consecrated to the cause of justice is a tree without shade, even though it may not have a poisonous root.

Good practices solely for personal benefit, and not from a desire to do good, are worthless.

The true holiness is charity, love for others, and adjusting one’s acts according to the good and the reasonable.

One may have more than another in riches, wisdom or beauty but in manhood all are equal.

Always preserve a high sense of honor, for the word of the honorable man is sacred.

Waste not time; riches lost may be recovered, but time, once lost, never returns.

Defend the weak, and fight the oppressor.

In Life’s thorny road, the man is the guide of his wife and children, and if he teaches them evil, evil will they practice.

The greatest man is not the king nor he with a high bridged nose, nor white skin, nor the priest who represents God; but he is really noble who, born in the forest, possesses no language save his native tongue, and yet is moderate in speech and careful to uphold his dignity and his honor. This man is a patriot and knows how to defend his country.

When this country is radiant with the light of liberty and we are all united as brothers, then will the pains of the past be rewarded⁠[4].

Despite the strict oaths of secrecy taken by its members, however, the Spanish authorities got wind of the society. The report was spread that the Katipunan meant to massacre the entire population. The friars in their delirious anxiety could now do but one thing—ask the civil authorities for more power and greater activity by the police with the consequent increase of arrests. In order to gain information from the suspected, the most horrible methods of torture were again employed. Men were hung up by their thumbs, their bones were crushed,—too often they were mutilated for life.

It was just about this time that Dr. Rizal, becoming dissatisfied with the violent methods planned by the revolutionists, petitioned the Spanish government that he be sent to the fever-stricken camps of Cuba where he might serve in Her Majesty’s army as a physician. The Governor-General granted Rizal’s petition. Before he reached Manila, however, the rebellion had begun. Nevertheless he was allowed to continue his journey to Spain where he planned to join the army for Cuba.

But as if the enmity of the friars could not otherwise be appeased, Rizal was detained when he reached Suez, arrested and brought back to Manila. A new Governor-General, chosen by the friars, now sealed his fate. Following another mock trial at which the Filipino martyr was not even allowed to choose his counsel, he was led to his execution and in the presence of a howling, cheering Spanish crowd killed by a volley. There were comparatively few Filipinos present. Most of them were in their homes, praying for the man about to be sacrificed on the altar of freedom.

The volley of musketry which rang out that early December morning in 1896 sealed the fate of Spain forever in the Philippines. The nation which had been conceived in 1872 was now born. The circumstances of Rizal’s death were so dramatic, the ideals for which he labored so noble, and his innocence of complicity in the existing revolution so clearly manifest, that the native multitudes were inspired as if by a second crucifixion.

One can only wonder that the final outbreak did not occur sooner. Two months before Rizal’s execution, for example, the Spaniards caused the arrest of numerous Filipinos in Vigan, a province which up to that time had not revolted. These men were shipped to Manila in the holds of vessels like pieces of merchandise, their hands and feet being tied securely. On arrival at the capital the victims were hauled from their dingy hole by derricks and dumped into a filthy crowded jail where many died of suffocation. In other parts of the archipelago, this process of extermination continued. Day after day, night after night, men and women were dragged out of their homes and sent to prison for inspection.

This ghastly business could not continue forever, and even the home government awoke in time to recall Governor Poltaveja and send in his place a more peaceful administrator, General Primo de Rivera. Governor Rivera wanted peace, and he immediately offered an amnesty to all who would lay down their arms within a specified time. The Filipino leaders, conscious of their inability to cope effectively with the Crown forces, which had recently been reenforced, and being desirous of assuring the welfare of their country, thereupon issued a proclamation in which they stated the conditions under which they would agree to lay down their arms. This document must be examined with care. It demanded:

1. Expulsion of the friars.

2. Parliamentary representation, freedom of the press, religious toleration, administrative and economic autonomy.

3. Equal pay and equal treatment for Spanish and insular civil officers.

4. Restoration of all friar lands to their original owners.

5. No more banishments.

6. Legal equality for all classes.

The Spanish governor promised to fulfill all these requests and as a further guarantee of his good faith offered to pay the leaders of the Katipunan who were to be banished to a foreign land the sum of $400,000.00. After negotiations which lasted several months, the so-called “Pact of Biac-na-bato” was signed, and Aguinaldo with thirty-four other leaders sailed for Hongkong. “No definite time was fixed during which these men were to remain away from the Philippines; and if the promises made by Spain were not fulfilled they had the right to return”⁠[5]. The old slander that Aguinaldo sold out the revolutionary movement for a bribe has been so thoroughly exploded by the best of authorities, that it requires uncommon audacity to repeat it⁠[6].

The fact was, however, that Governor Rivera was trying to steer a middle course. He issued a scathing denunciation of the friars, but failed to recommend their removal. It did not take long for the Filipinos to realize that none of the expected reforms were forthcoming. New insurrections immediately broke out in different sections of the archipelago. In the island of Cebu, 400 miles south of Manila, the rebels raided the city and besieged the Spanish forces in their citadel. In northern Luzon the revolt quickly gained impetus. All this occurred, of course, in the absence of their recognized leader, Aguinaldo⁠[7].

Conditions had reached such an acute state on February 22, 1898, forty-nine days before the United States declared war on Spain, that the American consul, Williams, stationed in Manila, sent the following significant dispatch to the State Department in Washington:

Conditions here and in Cuba are practically alike. War exists; and battles are of almost daily occurrence. Prisoners are brought here and shot without trial, and Manila is under martial law. The Crown forces have been unable to dislodge a rebel army within ten miles of Manila, and last Saturday, February 19, a battle was there fought. A republic is organized here as in Cuba. Insurgents are being armed and drilled, are rapidly increasing in number and efficiency, and all agree that a general uprising will come as soon as the Governor-General embarks for Spain, which is fixed for March⁠[8].

Into this turbulent arena of war and organized revolt Admiral Dewey sailed with his squadron, and with a few well-directed shots destroyed the Spanish fleet without the loss of a single life. The wires of the world vibrated with the startling news of his victory and the conquest of the archipelago had begun.