AS I understand it, the United States went into this war against Spain
in the cause of freedom. For three years Spain has been endeavoring
to conquer these people. The means employed were savage. Hundreds
of thousands were starved. Yet the Cubans, with great heroism, were
continuing the struggle. In spite of their burned homes, their wasted
fields, their dead comrades, the Cubans were not conquered and still
waged war. Under those circumstances we said to Spain, "You must
withdraw from the Western World. The Cubans have the right to be free!"
They have been robbed and enslaved by Spanish officers and soldiers.
Undoubtedly they were savages when first found, and undoubtedly they are
worse now than when discovered--more barbarous. They wouldn't make
very good citizens of the United States; they are probably incapable
of self-government, but no people can be ignorant enough to be justly
robbed or savage enough to be rightly enslaved. I think that we should
keep the islands, not for our own sake, but for the sake of these
people.
It was understood and declared at the time, that we were not waging war
for the sake of territory, that we were not trying to annex Cuba, but
that we were moved by compassion--a compassion that became as stern as
justice. I did not think at the time there would be war. I supposed that
the Spanish people had some sense, that they knew their own condition
and the condition of this Republic. But the improbable happened, and
now, after the successes we have had, the end of the war appears to be
in sight, and the question arises: What shall we do with the Spanish
islands that we have taken already, or that we may take before peace
comes?
Of course, we could not, without stultifying ourselves and committing
the greatest of crimes, hand back Cuba to Spain. But to do that would be
no more criminal, no more infamous, than to hand back the Philippines.
In those islands there are from eight to ten millions of people.
As far as the Philippines are concerned, I think that we should endeavor
to civilize them, and to do this we should send teachers, not preachers.
We should not endeavor to give them our superstition in place of
Spanish superstition. They have had superstition enough. They don't
need churches, they need schools. We should teach them our arts; how to
cultivate the soil, how to manufacture the things they need. In other
words, we should deal honestly with them, and try our best to make them
a self-supporting and a self-governing people. The eagle should spread
its wings over those islands for that and for no other purpose. We can
not afford to give them to other nations or to throw fragments of them
to the wild beasts of Europe. We can not say to Russia, "You may have a
part," and to Germany, "You may have a share," and to France, "You take
something," and so divide out these people as thieves divide plunder.
That we will never do.
There is, moreover, in my mind, a little sentiment mixed with this
matter. Manila Bay has been filled with American glory. There was won
one of our greatest triumphs, one of the greatest naval victories of the
world--won by American courage and genius. We can not allow any other
nation to become the owner of the stage on which this American drama was
played. I know that we can be of great assistance to the inhabitants of
the Philippines. I know that we can be an unmixed blessing to them, and
that is the only ambition I have in regard to those islands. I would no
more think of handing them back to Spain than I would of butchering the
entire population in cold blood. Spain is unfit to govern. Spain has
always been a robber. She has never made an effort to civilize a human
being. The history of Spain, I think, is the darkest page in the history
of the world.
At the same time I have a kind of pity for the Spanish people. I feel
that they have been victims--victims of superstition. Their blood has
been sucked, their energies have been wasted and misdirected, and they
excite my sympathies. Of course, there are many good Spaniards, good
men, good women. Cervera appears to be a civilized man, a gentleman, and
I feel obliged to him for his treatment of Hobson. The great mass of
the Spaniards, however, must be exceedingly ignorant. Their so-called
leaders dare not tell them the truth about the progress of this war.
They seem to be afraid to state the facts. They always commence with a
lie, then change it a little, then change it a little more, and may be
at last tell the truth. They never seem to dare to tell the truth at
first, if the truth is bad. They put me in mind of the story of a man
telegraphing to a wife about the condition of her husband. The first
dispatch was, "Your husband is well, never better." The second was,
"Your husband is sick, but not very." The third was, "Your husband is
much worse, but we still have hope." The fourth was, "You may as well
know the truth--we buried your husband yesterday." That is about the way
the Spanish people get their war news.
That is why it may be incorrect to assume that peace is coming quickly.
If the Spaniards were a normal people, who acted as other folks do, we
might prophesy a speedy peace, but nobody has prophetic vision enough
to tell what such a people will do. In spite of all appearances, and all
our successes, and of all sense, the war may drag on. But I hope not,
not only for our own sake, but for the sake of the Spaniards themselves.
I can't help thinking of the poor peasants who will be killed, neither
can I help thinking of the poor peasants who will have to toil for many
years on the melancholy fields of Spain to pay the cost of this war. I
am sorry for them, and I am sorry also for the widows and orphans, and
no one will be more delighted when peace comes.
The argument has been advanced in the National Senate and elsewhere,
that the Federal Constitution makes no provision for the holding of
colonies or dependencies, such as the Philippines would be; that we can
only acquire them as territories, and eventually must take them in
as States, with their population of mixed and inferior races. That is
hardly an effective argument.
When this country was an infant, still in its cradle, George Washington
gave the child some very good advice; told him to beware of entangling
alliances, to stay at home and attend to his own business. Under the
circumstances this was all very good. But the infant has been growing,
and the Republic is now one of the most powerful nations in the world,
and yet, from its infant days until now, good, conservative people have
been repeating the advice of Washington. It was repeated again and again
when we were talking about purchasing Louisiana, and many Senators and
Congressmen became hysterical and predicted the fall of the Republic if
that was done. The same thing took place when we purchased Florida, and
again when we got one million square miles from Mexico, and still again
when we bought Alaska. These ideas about violating the Constitution and
wrecking the Republic were promulgated by our great and wise statesmen
on all these previous occasions, but, after all, the Constitution seems
to have borne the strain. There seems to be as much liberty now as there
was then, and, in fact, a great deal more. Our Territories have given us
no trouble, while they have greatly added to our population and vastly
increased our wealth.
Beside this, the statesmen of the olden time, the wise men with whom
wisdom was supposed to have perished, could not and did not imagine the
improvements that would take place after they were gone. In their time,
practically speaking, it was farther from New York to Buffalo than it is
now from New York to San Francisco, and so far as the transportation of
intelligence is concerned, San Francisco is as near New York as it would
have been in their day had it been just across the Harlem River. Taking
into consideration the railways, the telegraphs and the telephones, this
country now, with its area of three million five hundred thousand square
miles, is not so large as the thirteen original colonies were; that is
to say, the distances are more easily traveled and more easily overcome.
In those days it required months and months to cross the continent. Now
it is the work of four or five days.
Yet, when we came to talk about annexing the Hawaiian Islands, the
advice of George Washington was again repeated, and the older the
Senator the fonder he was of this advice. These Senators had the idea
that the Constitution, having nothing in favor of it, must contain
something, at least in spirit, against it. Of course, our fathers had
no idea of the growth of the Republic. We have, because with us it is a
matter of experience. I don't see that Alaska has imperiled any of the
liberties of New York. We need not admit Alaska as a State unless it has
a population entitling it to admission, and we are not bound to take in
the Sandwich Islands until the people are civilized, until they are fit
companions of free men and free women. It may be that a good many of our
citizens will go to the Sandwich Islands, and that, in a short time,
the people there will be ready to be admitted as a State. All this the
Constitution can stand, and in it there is no danger of imperialism.
I believe in national growth. As a rule, the prosperous farmer wants to
buy the land that adjoins him, and I think a prosperous nation has the
ambition of growth. It is better to expand than to shrivel; and, if our
Constitution is too narrow to spread over the territory that we have
the courage to acquire, why we can make a broader one. It is a very easy
matter to make a constitution, and no human happiness, no prosperity,
no progress should be sacrificed for the sake of a piece of paper with
writing on it; because there is plenty of paper and plenty of men to do
the writing, and plenty of people to say what the writing should be.
I take more interest in people than I do in constitutions. I regard
constitutions as secondary; they are means to an end, but the dear,
old, conservative gentlemen seem to regard constitutions as ends in
themselves.
I have read what ex-President Cleveland had to say on this important
subject, and I am happy to say that I entirely disagree with him. So,
too, I disagree with Senator Edmunds, and with Mr. Bryan, and with
Senator Hoar, and with all the other gentlemen who wish to stop the
growth of the Republic. I want it to grow.
As to the final destiny of the island possessions won from Spain, my
idea is that the Philippine Islands will finally be free, protected, it
may be for a long time, by the United States. I think Cuba will come to
us for protection, naturally, and, so far as I am concerned, I want
Cuba only when Cuba wants us. I think that Porto Rico and some of those
islands will belong permanently to the United States, and I believe Cuba
will finally become a part of our Republic.
When the opponents of progress found that they couldn't make the
American people take the back track by holding up their hands over the
Constitution, they dragged in the Monroe doctrine. When we concluded not
to allow Spain any longer to enslave her colonists, or the people who
had been her colonists, in the New World, that was a very humane and
wise resolve, and it was strictly in accord with the Monroe doctrine.
For the purpose of conquering Spain, we attacked her fleet in Manila
Bay, and destroyed it. I can not conceive how that action of ours can
be twisted into a violation of the Monroe doctrine. The most that can be
said is, that it is an extension of that doctrine, and that we are now
saying to Spain, "You shall not enslave, you shall not rob, anywhere
that we have the power to prevent it."
Having taken the Philippines, the same humanity that dictated the
declaration of what is called the Monroe doctrine, will force us to act
there in accordance with the spirit of that doctrine. The other day I
saw in the paper an extract, I think, from Goldwin Smith, in which
he says that if we were to bombard Cadiz we would give up the Monroe
doctrine. I do not see the application. We are at war with Spain, and we
have a right to invade that country, and the invasion would have nothing
whatever to do with the Monroe doctrine. War being declared, we have
the right to do anything consistent with civilized warfare to gain the
victory. The bombardment of Cadiz would have no more to do with the
Monroe doctrine than with the attraction of gravitation. If, by the
Monroe doctrine is meant that we have agreed to stay in this hemisphere,
and to prevent other nations from interfering with any people
on this hemisphere, and if it is said that, growing out of this, is
another doctrine, namely, that we are pledged not to interfere with
any people living on the other hemisphere, then it might be called a
violation of the Monroe doctrine for us to bombard Cadiz. But such is
not the Monroe doctrine. If, we being at war with England, she should
bombard the city of New York, or we should bombard some city of England,
would anybody say that either nation had violated the Monroe doctrine? I
do not see how that doctrine is involved, whether we fight at sea or on
the territory of the enemy.
This is the first war, so far as I know, in the history of the world
that has been waged absolutely in the interest of humanity; the only
war born of pity, of sympathy; and for that reason I have taken a deep
interest in it, and I must say that I was greatly astonished by the
victory of Admiral Dewey in Manila Bay. I think it one of the most
wonderful in the history of the world, and I think all that Dewey
has done shows clearly that he is a man of thought, of courage and of
genius. So, too, the victory over the fleet of Cervera by Commodore
Schley, is one of the most marvelous and the most brilliant in all
the annals of the world. The marksmanship, the courage, the absolute
precision with which everything was done, is to my mind astonishing.
Neither should we forget Wainwright's heroic exploit, as commander of
the Gloucester, by which he demonstrated that torpedo destroyers have
no terrors for a yacht manned by American pluck. Manila Bay and Santiago
both are surpassingly wonderful. There are no words with which to
describe such deeds--deeds that leap like flames above the clouds and
glorify the whole heavens.
The Spanish have shown in this contest that they possess courage, and
they have displayed what you might call the heroism of desperation,
but the Anglo-Saxon has courage and coolness--courage not blinded by
passion, courage that is the absolute servant of intelligence. The
Anglo-Saxon has a fixedness of purpose that is never interfered with by
feeling; he does not become enraged--he becomes firm, unyielding, his
mind is absolutely made up, clasped, locked, and he carries out his
will. With the Spaniard it is excitement, nervousness; he becomes
frantic. I think this war has shown the superiority, not simply of our
ships, or our armor, or our guns, but the superiority of our men, of
our officers, of our gunners. The courage of our army about Santiago was
splendid, the steadiness and bravery of the volunteers magnificent. I
think that what has already been done has given us the admiration of the
civilized world.
I know, of course, that some countries hate us. Germany is filled with
malice, and has been just on the crumbling edge of meanness for months,
wishing but not daring to interfere; hateful, hostile, but keeping just
within the overt act. We could teach Germany a lesson and her ships
would go down before ours just the same as the Spanish ships have done.
Sometimes I have almost wished that a hostile German shot might be
fired. But I think we will get even with Germany and with France--at
least I hope so.
And there is another thing I hope--that the good feeling now existing
between England and the United States may be eternal. In other words,
I hope it will be to the interests of both to be friends. I think the
English-speaking peoples are to rule this world. They are the kings of
invention, of manufactures, of commerce, of administration, and they
have a higher conception of human liberty than any other people. Of
course, they are not entirely free; they still have some of the rags and
tatters and ravelings of superstition; but they are tatters and they are
rags and they are ravelings, and the people know it. And, besides all
this, the English language holds the greatest literature of the world.