The Spanish contention that it was in their power, as absolute

sovereign of the struggling island, to fasten ineradicably upon it, for

their own hostile purposes, unlimited claims to its future revenues,

would lead to extraordinary results. Under that doctrine, any

hard-pushed oppressor would have a certain means of subduing the most

righteous revolt and condemning a colony to perpetual subjugation. He

would only have to load it with bonds, issued for his own purposes,

beyond any possible capacity it could ever have for payment. Under that

load it could neither sustain itself independently, even if successful

in war, nor persuade any other Power to accept responsibility for and

control over it. It would be rendered impotent either for freedom or

for any change of sovereignty. To ask the Nation sprung from the

successful revolt of the thirteen colonies to acknowledge and act on an

immoral doctrine like that, was, indeed, ingenuous--or audacious. The

American Commissioners pronounced it alike repugnant to common sense

and menacing to liberty and civilization. The Spanish Commissioners

resented the characterization, but it is believed that the considerate

judgment of the world will yet approve it. International practice will

certainly hesitate hereafter, in transfers of sovereignty over

territory after its successful revolt, at any recognition of loans

negotiated by the ceding Power in its unsuccessful effort to subdue the

revolt--no matter what pledges it had assumed to give about the future

territorial revenues. Loans for the prosecution of unjust wars will be

more sharply scrutinized in the money markets of the world, and will

find less ready takers, however extravagant the rates. It may even

happen that oppressing nations, in the increasing difficulty of

floating such loans, will find it easier to relax the rigors of their

rule and promote the orderly development of more liberal institutions

among their subjects.

Far from being an encouragement, therefore, to repudiation, the

American rejection of the so-called Cuban debt was a distinct

contribution to international morality, and will probably furnish an

important addition to International Law.

[Sidenote: Ready to Pay Legitimate Colonial Debts.]

At the same time the American Commissioners made clear in another case

their sense of the duty to recognize any debt legitimately attaching to

ceded territory. There was not the remotest thought of buying the

Philippines, when a money payment was proposed, in that branch of the

negotiations. When the Spanish fleet was sunk and the Spanish army

captured at Manila, Spanish control over the Philippines was gone, and

the Power that had destroyed it was compelled to assume its

responsibilities to the civilized world at that commercial center and

on that oceanic highway.[4] If that was not enough reason for the

retention of the Philippines, then, at any rate, the right of the

United States to them as indemnity for the war could not be contested

by the generation which had witnessed the exaction of Alsace and

Lorraine plus $1,000,000,000 indemnity for the Franco-Prussian War. The

war with Spain had already cost the United States far above

$300,000,000. When trying to buy Cuba from Spain, in the days of that

island's greatest prosperity, the highest valuation the United States

was ever willing to attach to it was $125,000,000. As an original

proposition, nobody dreams that the American people would have

consented to buy the remote Philippines at that figure or at the half

of it. Who could think the Government exacting if it accepted them in

lieu of a cash indemnity (which Spain was wholly incapable of paying)

for a great deal more than double the value it had put upon Cuba, at

its very doors?

[4] It might, of course, have run away and left them to disorder.

That is what a pirate could have done, and would have compelled

the intervention of European governments for the protection of

their own citizens. Or it might have restored them to Spain.

Besides the desertion of natives whose aid against Manila had

been encouraged, that would have been to say that while the

United States went to war because the injustice and barbarity of

Spanish rule in the West Indies were such that they could no

longer be tolerated, it was now so eager to quit and get peace

that it was willing to reëstablish that same rule in the East

Indies!

It was certain, then, that the Philippines would be retained, unless

the President and his Commissioners so construed their duty to protect

their country's interests as to throw away, in advance of popular

instruction, all possible chance of indemnity for the war. But there

was an issue of Spanish bonds, called a Philippine loan, amounting to

forty million dollars Mexican, or say a little less than twenty

millions of American money. Warned by the results of inquiry as to the

origin of the Cuban debt, the American Commissioners avoided

undertaking to assume this en bloc. But in their first statement of the

claim for cession of sovereignty in the Philippines, while intimating

their belief in their absolute right to enforce the demand on the

single ground of indemnity, they were careful to say that they were

ready to stipulate "for the assumption of any existing indebtedness of

Spain incurred for public works and improvements of a pacific character

in the Philippines." When they learned that this entire "Philippine

debt" had only been issued in 1897, that apparently a fourth had been

transferred to Cuba to carry on the war against the Cuban insurgents,

and finally against the United States, and that much of what was left

of the remainder, after satisfying the demands of officials for "costs

of negotiation," must have gone to the support of the government while

engaged in prosecuting the war against the natives in Luzon, the

American Commissioners abandoned the idea of assuming it. But even then

they resolved, in the final transfer, to fix an amount at least equal

to the face value of that debt, which could be given to Spain. She

could use it to pay the Philippine bonds if she chose. Nothing further

was said to Spain about the Philippine debt, and no specific reason for

the payment was given in the ultimatum. The Commissioners merely

observed that they "now present a new proposition, embodying the

concessions which, for the sake of immediate peace, their Government

is, under the circumstances, willing to tender." What had gone before

showed plainly enough the American view as to the sanctity of public

debt legitimately incurred in behalf of ceded territory, and explained

the money payment in the case of the Philippines, as well as the

precise amount at which it was finally fixed.

[Sidenote: Privateering.]

Neither the Peace of Paris nor the conflict which it closed can be said

to have quite settled the status of private war at sea. "Privateering

is and remains abolished," not in International Law, but merely between

the Powers that signed that clause in the Declaration of Paris in 1856.

But the greatest commercial nation, as well as the most powerful, that

withheld its signature was the United States. Obviously its adhesion to

the principle would bring more weight to the general acceptance among

civilized nations, which is the essential for admission in

International Law, than that of all the other dissenting nations.

Under these circumstances, the United States took the occasion of an

outbreak of war between itself and another of the dissenting nations to

announce that, for its part, it did not intend, under any

circumstances, to resort to privateering. The other gave no such

assurance, and was, in fact, expected (in accordance with frequent

semi-official outgivings from Madrid) to commission privateers at an

early day; but the disasters to its navy and the collapse of its

finances left it without a safe opportunity. The moral effect of this

volunteer action of the United States, with no offset of any active

dissent by its opponent, becomes almost equivalent to completing that

custom and assent of the civilized world which create International

Law. Practically all governments may henceforth regard privateering as

under international ban, and no one of the states yet refraining from

assent--Spain, Mexico, Venezuela, or China--is likely to defy the ban.

The announcement of the United States can probably be accepted as

marking the end of private war at sea, and a genuine advance in the

world's civilization.

[Sidenote: Exempt all Private Property.]

The refusal of the United States, in 1856, to join in the clause of the

Declaration of Paris abolishing privateering was avowedly based upon

the ground that it did not go far enough. The American claim was that

not only private seizure of enemy's goods at sea should be prohibited,

but that all private property of the enemy at sea should be entitled to

the same protection as on land--prizes and prize courts being thus

almost abolished, and no private property of the enemy anywhere being

liable to confiscation, unless contraband of war. It was frankly stated

at the time that without this addition the abolition of privateering

was not in the interest of Powers like the United States, with a small

navy, but a large and active merchant fleet. This peculiar adaptability

of privateering at that time to the situation of the United States

might have warranted the suspicion that its professions of a desire to

make the Declaration of Paris broader than the other nations wished

only masked a desire to have things remain as they were.

But the subsequent action of its Government in time of profound peace

compelled a worthier view of its attitude. A treaty with Italy,

negotiated by George P. Marsh, and ratified by the United States in

1871, embodied the very extension of the Declaration of Paris for which

the United States contended. This treaty provides that "in the event of

a war between them (Italy and the United States) the private property

of their respective citizens and subjects, with the exception of

contraband of war, shall be exempt from capture or seizure, on the high

seas or elsewhere, by the armed vessels or by the military forces of

either party." Is it too much to hope that this early committal of the

United States with Italy, and its subsequent action in the war with

Spain, may at last bring the world to the advanced ground it

recommended for the Declaration of Paris, and throw the safeguards of

civilization henceforth around all private property in time of war,

whether on land or sea?

[Sidenote: The Monroe Doctrine Stands.]

Here, then, are three great principles, important to the advancement of

civilization, which, if not established in International Law by the

Peace of Paris and the war it closed, have at least been so powerfuly

reinforced that no nation is likely hereafter lightly or safely to

violate them.

But it has often been asked, and sometimes by eminent English writers,

whether the Americans have not, at the same time, fatally unsettled the

Monroe Doctrine, which never, indeed, had the sanction of International

Law, but to which they were known to attach the greatest importance. A

large and influential body of American opinion at first insisted that

the acquisition of the West Indian, Philippine, and Sandwich Islands

constituted an utter abandonment of that Doctrine; and apparently most

European publicists have accepted this view. Only slight inquiry is

needed to show that the facts give it little support.

The Monroe Doctrine sprang from the union of certain absolute monarchs

(not claiming to rule by the will of the people, but by "divine right")

in a "Holy Alliance" against that dangerous spread of democratic ideas

which, starting in the revolt of the American colonies, had kindled the

French Revolution and more or less unsettled government in Europe. It

was believed that these monarchs meant not only to repress republican

tendencies in Europe, but to assist Spain in reducing again to

subjection American republics which had been established in former

Spanish colonies, and had been recognized as independent by the United

States. Under these circumstances, James Monroe, then President, in his

Annual Message in 1823, formally announced the famous "Doctrine" in

these words:

The occasion has been deemed proper for asserting as a principle in

which the rights and interests of the United States are involved,

that the American continents, by the free and independent condition

which they have assumed and maintained, are henceforth not to be

considered as subjects for future colonization by any European

Powers.... Our policy in regard to Europe ... is not to interfere

in the internal concerns of any of its Powers.

That is the whole substance of it. There was no pledge of abstention

throughout the future and under all circumstances from the internal

concerns of European Powers--only a statement of present practice. Far

less was there a pledge, as seems to have been widely supposed, that if

the Holy Alliance would only refrain from aiding Spain to force back

the Mexican and South American republics into Spanish colonies, the

United States would refrain from extending its institutions or its

control over any region in Asia or Africa or the islands of the sea.

Less yet was there any such talk as has been sometimes quoted, about

keeping Europe out of the Western hemisphere and ourselves staying out

of the Eastern hemisphere. What Mr. Monroe really said, in essence, was

this: "The late Spanish colonies are now American republics, which we

have recognized. They shall not be reduced to colonies again; and the

two American continents have thus attained such an independent

condition that they are no longer fields for European colonization."

That fact remains. It does not seem probable that anybody will try or

wish to change it. Furthermore, the United States has not interfered in

the internal concerns of any European Powers. But it is under no direct

pledge for the future to that effect; and as to Asia, Africa, and the

islands of the sea, it is and always has been as free as anybody else.

It encouraged and protected a colony on the west coast of Africa. It

acquired the Aleutian Islands, largely in the Asiatic system. It long

maintained a species of protectorate over the Sandwich Islands. It

acquired an interest in Samoa and joined there in a protectorate. It

has now taken the Sandwich Islands and the Philippines. Meanwhile the

Monroe Doctrine remains just where it always was. Nothing has been done

in contravention of it, and it stands as firmly as ever, though with

the tragic end of the Franco-Austrian experiment in Mexico, and now

with the final disappearance from the Western world of the unfortunate

Power whose colonial experiences led to its original promulgation, the

circumstances have so changed that nobody is very likely to have either

interest or wish to interfere with it.

[Sidenote: Leaving the Continent.]

What has really been unsettled, if anything, by the Peace of Paris and

the preceding war, has been the current American idea as to the sphere

of national activities, and the power under the Constitution for their

extension. It is perfectly true that the people did not wish for more

territory, and never dreamed of distant colonies. There had always been

a party that first opposed and then belittled the acquisition of

Alaska. There was no considerable popular support since the Civil War

for filibustering expeditions of the old sort against Cuba. There was

genuine reluctance to take the steps which recent circumstances and the

national committals for half a century made almost unavoidable in the

Sandwich Islands. Now suddenly the United States found itself in

possession of Cuba, Porto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines. The first

impression was one of great popular perplexity. What was to be done

with them? Must they be developed through the territorial stage into

independent States in the Union? or, if not, how govern or get rid of

them? What place was there in the American system for territories that

were never to be States, for colonies, or for the rule of distant

subject races?

Up to this time, from the outbreak of the war, the Administration had

found the American people united in its support as they had hardly been

united for a century. The South vied with the North, the West forgot

the growing jealousy of the East, the poor the new antagonism to the

rich, and the wildest cow-boys from Arizona and New Mexico marched

fraternally beside scions of the oldest and richest families from New

York, under the orders of a great Secessionist cavalry general.

But now two parties presently arose. One held that there was no

creditable escape from the consequences of the war; that the

Government, having broken down the existing authority in the capital of

the Philippines, and practically throughout the archipelago, could

neither set up that authority again nor shirk the duty of replacing it;

that it was as easy and as constitutional to apply some modification of

the existing territorial system to the Philippines as it had been to

Alaska and the Aleutians; and that, while the task was no doubt

disagreeable, difficult, and dangerous, it could not be avoided with

honor, and would ultimately be attended with great profit. On the other

hand, some prominent members of the Administration party led off in

protests against the retention of the Philippines on constitutional,

humanitarian, and economic grounds, pronouncing it a policy absolutely

antagonistic to the principles of the Republic and the precursor of its

downfall. In proportion as the Administration itself inclined to the

former view, the opposition leaders fell away from the support they had

given during the war, and began to align themselves with those members

of the Administration party who had opposed the ratification of the

treaty. They were reinforced by a considerable body of educated and

conservative public opinion, chiefly at the East, and by a number of

trades-union and labor leaders, who had been brought to believe that

the new policy meant cheap labor and cheap manufactures in competition

with their own, together with a large standing army, to which they have

manifested great repugnance ever since the Chicago riots.

[Sidenote: Anti-Administration View of the Constitution.]

In the universal ferment of opinion and discussion that ensued, the

opponents of what is assumed to be the Administration policy on the new

possessions have seemed to rely chiefly on two provisions in the

Constitution of the United States and a phrase in the Declaration of

Independence. The constitutional provisions are:

The Congress shall have power to levy and collect taxes ... and

provide for the common defense and general welfare of the United

States; _but all duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform

throughout the United States_.--Art. I, Sec. 8.

All persons born or naturalized in the United States and subject to

the jurisdiction thereof are citizens of the United States and of

the State wherein they reside.--Art. XIV, Sec. 1.

To serve the purpose for which these clauses of the Constitution are

invoked, it is necessary to hold that any territory to which the United

States has a title is an integral part of the United States; and

perhaps the greatest name in the history of American constitutional

interpretation, that of Mr. Chief Justice Marshall of the Supreme Court

of the United States, is cited in favor of that contention. If

accepted, it follows that when the treaty ceding Spanish sovereignty in

the Philippines was ratified, that archipelago became an integral part

of the United States. Then, under the first clause above cited, the

Dingley tariff must be immediately extended over the Philippines (as

well as Porto Rico, the Sandwich Islands, and Guam) precisely as over

New York; and, under the second clause, every native of the Philippines

and the other new possessions is a citizen of the United States, with

all the rights and privileges thereby accruing. The first result would

be the disorganization of the present American revenue system by the

free admission into all American ports of sugar and other tropical

products from the greatest sources of supply, and the consequent loss

of nearly sixty millions of annual revenue. Another would be the

destruction of the existing cane- and beet-sugar industries in the

United States. Another, apprehended by the laboring classes, who are

already suspicious from their experience with the Chinese, would be an

enormous influx, either of cheap labor or of its products, to beat down

their wages.

Next, it is argued, there is no place in the theory or practice of the

American Government for territories except for development into

Statehood; and, consequently, the required population being already

present, new States must be created out of Luzon, Mindanao, the

Visayas, Porto Rico, and the Sandwich Islands. The right to hold them

permanently in the territorial form, or even under a protectorate, is

indignantly denied as conflicting with Mr. Jefferson's phrase in the

Declaration of Independence, to the effect that governments derive

their just powers from the consent of the governed. Some great names

can certainly be marshaled in support of such views--Chancellor Kent,

Mr. John C. Calhoun, Mr. Chief Justice Taney, and others. Denial of

this duty to admit the new possessions as States is denounced as a

violation by the Republic of the very law of its being, and its

transformation into an empire; as a revival of slavery in another form,

both because of government without representation, and because of the

belief that no tropical colony can be successful without contract

labor; as a consequent and inevitable degradation of American

character; as a defiance of the warnings in Washington's Farewell

Address against foreign entanglements; as a repudiation of the

congressional declaration at the outbreak of the war, that it was not

waged for territorial aggrandizement; and finally as placing Aguinaldo

in the position of fighting for freedom, independence, and the

principles of the fathers of the Republic, while the Republic itself is

in the position of fighting to control and govern him and his people in

spite of their will.

On the other hand, the supporters of the treaty and of the policy of

the Administration, so far as it has been disclosed, begin their

argument with another provision of the Constitution, the second part of

Section 3 in Article IV:

The Congress shall have power to dispose of and make all needful

rules and regulations respecting the territory or other property

belonging to the United States.

They claim that, under this, Congress has absolute power to do what it

will with the Philippines, as with any other territory or other

property which the United States may acquire. It is admitted that

Congress is, of course, under an implied obligation to exercise this

power in the general spirit of the Constitution which creates it, and

of the Government of which it is a part. But it is denied that Congress

is under any obligation to confer a republican form of government upon

a territory whose inhabitants are unfit for it, or to adopt any form of

government devised with reference to preparing it for ultimate

admission to the Union as a State.

It is further denied that Congress is under any obligation, arising

either from the Constitution itself or from the precedents of the

Nation's action under it, to ask the consent of the inhabitants in

acquired territory to the form of government which may be given them.

And still further, it is not only denied that Congress is under any

obligations to prepare these territories for Statehood or admit them to

it, but it is pointed out that, at least as to the Philippines, that

body is prevented from doing so by the very terms, of the preamble to

the Constitution itself--concluding with the words, "do ordain and

establish this Constitution for the United States _of America_." There

is no place here for States of Asia.

[Sidenote: Replies to Constitutional Objections.]

In dealing with the arguments against retention of the Philippines,

based on the sections previously quoted from Articles I and XIV of the

Constitution, the friends of the policy say that the apparent conflict

in these articles with the wide grant of powers over territory to

Congress which they find in Article IV arises wholly from a failure to

recognize the different senses in which the term "the United States" is

used. As the name of the Nation it is often employed to include all

territory over which United States sovereignty extends, whether

originally the property of the individual States and ceded to the

United States, or whether acquired in treaties by the Nation itself.

But such a meaning is clearly inconsistent with its use in certain

clauses of the Constitution in question. Thus Article XIII says:

"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude ... shall exist within the

United States _or any place subject to their jurisdiction_."

Problems of Expansion As Considered in Papers and Addresses · 第 4 / 14 段