It has been customary to attribute the outbreak of the Spanish American war to the deplorable situation existing in the island of Cuba, for the cruel methods by which Spain sought to suppress the local insurrection had indeed excited the sympathy of Americans who wished to end the horrible conditions that existed there. But the desire for intervention in 1898 was by no means the first manifestation of interest on the part of the United States. On the contrary, many years ago America and Spain had been on the verge of war over this tempting possession, and it was only the influence of conservatives in both countries that had prevented a more frequent recurrence of such strained relations. To understand the intervention of 1898, therefore, it is necessary to look back and recall the attitude of American statesmen in former years upon the Cuban problem.
We first find that fully a century before the war of 1898 Cuba had already been an object of concern to the United States. Jefferson had coveted it, declaring that its possession by Great Britain would imperil the future of the Republic, and John Quincy Adams had contended that the laws of political gravitation would inevitably draw the island to the Union. In 1825 Henry Clay declared that America would not permit the occupation of Cuba by any other power than Spain, while Daniel Webster as Secretary of State subsequently went to the extent of assuring Spain that the entire naval and military forces of the United States would aid her in maintaining her possession of Cuba[1].
At that early period it was the fear that Cuba might fall into the hands of France or England which caused such concern in the United States. A change in this attitude occurred in the middle of the nineteenth century and must be considered with more care. American historians have aptly described this period as one during which the young Republic began to feel more keenly her growing power, and the relations which she maintained with foreign nations were characterized by the spirit of expansion which a few years before had brought about the annexation of Texas, the Oregon controversy, and the Mexican war[2].
This was also the period when American diplomacy took a vigorous attitude in the Far East. In 1853 the Japanese government was forced to open her doors to American commerce and the world. In the following year, Mr. Marcy, the American Secretary of State, went so far as to attempt the annexation of Hawaii, while troubles with Mexico and Great Britain were pushed to a successful termination.
These difficulties, however, were trifling compared with the problems of expansion in the South. The annexation of Cuba in particular had been desired ardently by the southern states. “If we hold Cuba,” wrote one enthusiastic supporter of this movement, “we would hold the destiny of the richest commerce that has ever dazzled the cupidity of man. And with that commerce we can control the power of the world”[3].
The Washington government did not ignore such pressure. It, therefore, directed the American representative at Madrid to sound the Spanish government on this matter, but the latter soon made it clear that “sooner than see the island transferred to any power, they would prefer seeing it sunk in the ocean”[4]. Despite such a determined opposition on the part of Spain the desire to annex Cuba gave rise to frequent filibustering efforts. Finally in 1852, as if to put an end to this uncertain situation, England proposed a tri-partite agreement by which Great Britain, France and the United States should mutually renounce any purpose or design of annexing Cuba. To this proposition, however, America declined to bind herself on the ground that her peculiar interest in the island did not warrant it[5].
This attitude continued until 1854 when an extraordinary incident temporarily put an end to it. It happened that in that year the Secretary of State directed three of the American ministers in Europe to prepare some statement of the policy of the United States in regard to Cuba. The three American officials designated were the ministers to Spain, France, and England,—Soulé, Mason and Buchanan, respectively. They met at Ostend in the summer of 1854, and there drafted a manifesto to the effect that:
This clearly meant forcible annexation justified by the doctrine that “might makes right.” In transmitting the document to Washington the American minister Soulé further added that the time was most appropriate in which to declare war on Spain, inasmuch as England and France were involved in the Crimean war and hence would be unable to interfere with the conquest[6].
When the contents of this manifesto were made known in the United States, however, the plan was severely condemned by the northern states and the Republican party, the avowed enemies of slavery. The administration soon became convinced that forcible annexation in this matter would not receive the support of the entire nation and the proposition was, therefore, dropped.
The Republican platform of 1860 contained this statement,
That the maintenance of the principles promulgated in the Declaration of Independence and embodied in the Federal Constitution “that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; that, to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,” is essential to the preservation of our Republican institutions.
After the Civil War, however, the United States again narrowly escaped hostilities with Spain. It should be remembered that during the Civil War Spain had recognized the Southern Confederacy and this did much to augment the feeling of animosity towards the decaying empire. Many thought that Spain should be punished for having showed friendly interest towards the rebels. The opportunity to do so came in 1869. In that year Cuba was seething with revolt. Although the progress of the insurgents was slight, they found many sympathizers in the United States, chief among whom was General Rawlins, the Secretary of War, who persuaded General Grant to sign a proclamation recognizing the belligerency of the insurgents. This proclamation was then handed to Mr. Fish, the Secretary of State, with orders to seal and issue it. Mr. Fish, however, knew better than to do this, for he realized that conditions at the time did not warrant such drastic action. He therefore put the paper away quietly and with the subsequent restoration of order in Cuba it was forgotten. President Grant never spoke of the matter again except to thank his able Secretary for having pigeonholed the proclamation[7]. The agitation for some action in behalf of the rebellious Cubans, which had made itself felt in the press as well as in the halls of Congress, was later finally ended by a definite announcement of the President that the Administration would maintain an attitude of non-intervention[8].
The years that followed, however, again brought frequent attempts by private Americans interested in Cuban commerce to secure a more aggressive attitude at Washington. They resorted to filibustering in order to draw the nation into war, and only the mature judgment of the Secretary of State prevented ill-advised intervention[9].
It must also be remembered that during this period the grievances of the Cubans against the home government were numerous and well-founded. The native planters found themselves placed at a disadvantage in their dealings with their best customers, the United States, which consumed 62 per cent of their sugar crop. This was owing to the duties placed by the Spanish officials upon all American grains entering Cuba, a measure which naturally provoked similar restrictions on Cuban products entering American ports. Further grounds for complaint were found in the fact that the creoles of the island were allowed no share in their government, no chance to protest officially against treating Cuba like a “milch cow which Spain seemed to wish to exhaust.” Add to this the corrupt and complicated administration saddled upon the Cuban producers; the disgraceful fortunes accumulated by Captains General; and a budget augmented to cover numerous expenses of Spain entirely disconnected with Cuba, and it is easy to understand why Cuba’s proverbial loyalty which had withstood a heavy strain for many years now began to fail.
It is only surprising that the final bid for freedom was so long delayed. It came at length in 1895, but as in the earlier insurrections, it was as clear that the Cuban “patriots” could not take Havana as that the royal forces could not pacify the entire island. Without aid from America it was very unlikely that the insurgents would have realized their aim within any reasonable time. The future could only promise a continuation of petty guerilla warfare which naturally afforded no prospect of settlement or peace. In the meantime the economic interests, not only of Cuba but also of the world, and especially of the United States, were sure to suffer. Let not the disinterested American be entirely deceived. Bitter as was the indignation in the public mind at the Spanish atrocities, it must be apparent that this irritation was greatly increased by the pecuniary interests which America had and hoped to have in the struggling island beside her. As Professor Keller of Yale put it, it was
because the interests of the United States were so extensive that irritation in this country waxed greater, and gradually metamorphosed itself into the form of a crusade against misgovernment and oppression.
When General Weyler began his notorious reconcentration camps in 1896, intervention was again averted by the narrowest of margins. Congress on April 6 passed a resolution recognizing the belligerency of the insurgents but President Cleveland ignored it, choosing to protest through diplomatic correspondence. When President McKinley assumed office these protests were renewed through the same channels but it soon became evident that nothing tangible could be accomplished by diplomacy.
Two later incidents also no doubt hastened the aggressive attitude of the United States. One was the indiscretion of the Spanish minister at Washington in writing a letter to a personal friend in which he described the American President as a soft-handed politician, “and a bidder for the admiration of the crowd.” Somehow, this letter was “surreptitiously if not criminally obtained” and later published, and it naturally created a profound feeling of indignation[10]. It required more than the mere recall of the Spanish minister to cover this diplomatic blunder.
The second incident was the blowing up of the battleship Maine as it lay in the harbor of Havana. No definite cause has yet been discovered for this mysterious explosion which destroyed two hundred and fifty American lives, but at the time an investigation made by officers of the United States, in which the Spaniards were not allowed to take part, reported that the destruction was caused by a mine. War spirit could no longer be restrained. “When the Maine was blown up in Havana Harbor,” said Roosevelt, “war became inevitable”[11]. Add to this the fact that public sentiment had been stirred up by a sensational press which, in the words of the historian Rhodes had “manipulated the real news, spread false reports, putting all before their readers with scare headlines”[12], and we cannot wonder at the war fever which swept the continent. “Every Congressman,” said Boutelle of Maine, “had two or three newspapers in his district, most of them printed in red ink, shouting for blood”[13].
In perfect accord with the attitude of the nation, therefore, President McKinley, whose conduct in this matter had been flawless, sent a message to Congress recommending intervention in behalf of Cuba and humanity. “Our people,” he said, “have beheld a once prosperous community reduced to comparative want, its lucrative commerce virtually paralyzed, its exceptional productiveness diminished, its fields laid waste, its mills in ruins and its people perishing by tens of thousands from hunger and destitution.” Thus did the President lay bare to that august body the situation of the Cubans, a situation which he said, “shocked the sensibilities and offended the humane sympathies” of the American people.
A more than ready Congress thereupon passed the Resolution introduced by Senator Teller of Colorado declaring among other things that “the people of the island of Cuba are, and of right ought to be, free and independent,” and that “the Government of the United States does hereby demand that the Government of Spain at once relinquish its authority and government of Cuba and withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters.” This virtually meant war, but the Congress also took particular care to stipulate
that the United States hereby disclaims any disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction or control over said island, except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its determination when that is accomplished to leave the government and control of the island to its people[14].
It is doubtful if an actual war had ever been begun with a purpose more lofty and humane or with a clearer declaration of that purpose.
The outcome of the war every one knows. Spain was driven from the island and the United States was left to fulfill her promise of giving the Cubans the government and control of their island. But now, in the face of this sacred pledge to recognize the independence of Cuba, a campaign for the retention of that island went on quietly and patiently.
There has been no lack of counselors [said Senator Hoar] to whisper in the ear of the President and Senate and House the dishonorable counsel that we should hold Cuba, without regard to our pledges or our principles, and that the resolution of the Senator from Colorado was a great mistake.
This movement for the retention of Cuba, however, did not prosper and happily for the sanctity of America’s word, steps were immediately taken for the establishment of a government which could be handed down intact to the Cubans. This was begun early in 1899 and by July, 1900, a constitutional convention was called to frame and adopt a constitution for the people of Cuba, and, “as a part thereof, to provide for and agree with the Government of the United States upon the relations to exist between that government and the Government of Cuba.”
What these relations were to be was a question which naturally arose in Washington, and Congress speedily decided the matter by the so-called “Platt Amendment” defining America’s relations with Cuba. This act, passing under a most unpretentious designation, may be said to be one of the most important documents in the history of the nation. Let us see why.
At the time of the intervention in Cuba the United States was only too eager to absolutely pledge herself to establish the independence for which the unhappy Cubans had been fighting. This unqualified promise was given readily and sincerely. No doubt it was made to remove the apprehension of conservative Americans as well as Cubans. But conditions had changed in 1901. Then the possession of Porto Rico, of Guam and the Philippines was more than certain. Certainly there was more to be said in favor of retaining Cuba than for annexing those far-flung possessions in the Pacific. But to annex Cuba was virtually impossible,—a definite pledge to recognize her independence made in the hectic days of ’98 barred the way. And so under Roosevelt’s administration America kept her word and withdrew from Cuba. But she kept her word with a very important qualification in the Platt Amendment, which virtually meant no Cuban independence after all. Already commercial advantage was overcoming conscience and principle.
The United States had promised to quit Cuba when “pacification was accomplished.” Here was an elastic condition which could be interpreted narrowly. She could under that phrase have stayed on the island indefinitely troubled only by the never-ending contest between good faith and pecuniary interest. Instead America chose to protect herself by means of the Platt Amendment which briefly provided that (1) Cuba should not enter into any agreement with foreign powers which might tend to impair her independence; (2) that no debt should be contracted which could not be paid out of the island’s current revenues; (3) that the United States might intervene to preserve Cuban independence, enforce the treaty obligations imposed by the treaty of Paris, and insure a government able to protect property and life; (4) that all acts performed by the American government during its brief occupation were to be validated; (5) that Cuba was to sell or lease to the United States sites for two naval stations; (6) and that by way of further assurance that these provisions were to be followed strictly Cuba should embody them all in a treaty with the United States.
The strictness and exactness of these provisions will more clearly appear on a careful reading of the amendment itself, paragraphs (1) and (3) in particular being the most exact. These provisions meant that the United States virtually retained complete control of Cuba’s foreign relations. The right was also reserved to her whereby she might intervene in the island government in order to correct any conditions which in her judgment were considered unsatisfactory. The two naval bases which she reserved for herself on opposite sides of the island were the best evidence of her power to exercise such absolute control.
Of course, Cuban statesmen were not blind to the exact purpose of the amendment. They protested that the provisions virtually destroyed the independence which had been promised and which America now said she was granting. But they were informed that the acceptance of the amendment must be unqualified and so with bad grace they were finally forced to yield[15].
Judged superficially, however, the Cuban venture might well appear to have been an act of altruism on the part of the United States. After all, the Cubans got more than they could ever have got from Spain, although their liberator did really profit from the enterprise as well.
Before leaving the story of the Cuban occupation, however, it is well to give a parting thought to the arguments which induced nation-wide sentiment to favor intervention. When America intervened Spain held the island by an indisputable title. She controlled its cities, its ports, and its coast, and maintained in them an organized government. It is true that some of the Cubans had been for years in unsuccessful revolt, but they had no organized government which had any claim to be recognized as such. Yet when America declared war upon Spain she avowedly declared that Cuba was, and of right, ought to be free and independent. Why? Only because in the judgment of the people of the United States, Spain’s title had been forfeited by her cruel method of dealing with the Cubans. With this thought constantly in mind we can approach the story of the Philippine adventure.
[1] The American Nation—A History, vol. xxv. Latane, America as a World Power, p. 4.
[2] The American Nation, etc., vol. xviii. Parties and Slavery, by T. C. Clarke, p. 75.
[3] Clark, ibid., p. 81.
[4] House Exec. Doc., 32d Cong., 1st Sess., 121, p. 58.
[5] Sen. Exec. Doc., 32d Cong., 1st Sess., No. 1, p. 74, 76; 2d Sess., No. 63.
[6] Clarke, Parties and Slavery, p. 87.
[7] Dunning, Reconstruction—Political and Economic, p. 172.
[8] Ibid., p. 172.
[9] See the Virginius case, for example.
[10] Day, Foreign Relations, p. 680 and p. 1007.
[11] Roosevelt, Autobiography, p. 232.
[12] Rhodes, The McKinley and Roosevelt Administrations, p. 55.
[13] Boston Herald, October 23, 1898.
[14] Foreign Relations, 1898, liv.
[15] Powers, America Among the Nations, p. 116.