“There has been a great increase in the cost of living and in wages in this (Moro) as in other provinces—an increase which has not been accompanied either by improved methods or increased production. The cause of the increase can be traced, in most cases, to the foolishly high prices paid by army officials for labour.”[5]
Wages steadily advanced as a natural consequence of the higher cost of living, and, under the guidance of a native demagogue, the working classes, for the first time in Philippine history, collectively began to grumble at the idea of labour-pay having a limit. It was one of the abuses of that liberty of speech suddenly acquired under the new dominion. On February 2, 1902, this person organized the malcontents under the title of a “Labour Union,” of which he became the first president. The subscription was 20 cents of a peso per week. The legality of peacefully relinquishing work when the worker felt so inclined was not impugned; but when the strikers sought to coerce violently their fellow-men, the law justly interfered and imprisoned their leader. The presidency of the so-called “Labour Union” was thenceforth (September following) carried on by a half-caste, gifted with great power of organization and fluent oratory. He prepared the by-laws of the association, and fixed the monthly subscription at one peso per man and one peseta (one-fifth of a peso) per woman. About 100,000 members were enrolled in the union, the ostensible aim of which was the defence of the working manʼs interests. It is difficult to discern what those interests were which needed protection; the position of the labouring class was the very reverse of that existing in Europe; the demand for labourers, at any reasonable wage, exceeded the supply. The idea of a Filipino philanthropically devoting his life to the welfare of the masses was beyond the conception of all who understood the Philippine character. At the end of about eight months, notwithstanding the enormous assets from subscriptions, the “Labour Union” became insolvent, with a deficit of 1,000 or more pesos. Where the assets had gone needed investigation. In the meantime the leader, posing as mediator between the Insular Government and certain notorious outlaws, had endeavoured to negotiate with Governor W. H. Taft for their surrender, on the condition of full pardon. The Government, at length, becoming suspicious of his intentions and the full measure of his sympathy for these individuals, caused the leader to be arrested on May 29, 1903, on the allegations of “founding, directing, and presiding over an illegal association known as ‘The Democratic Labour Union,’” irregularities connected with the foundation and administration of the same, sedition, confederacy with brigands, and other minor counts.
It was clear to every thinking man, American or European, that the control of such a formidable body was a menace to peace. The accused was brought to trial on the chief allegations, and in September, 1903, he was sentenced to four years and two monthsʼ imprisonment, but appealed against the sentence to the Supreme Court. Later on he was tried on the other counts, and, although the public prosecution failed, it served the useful purpose of dissolving a league the scope of which was shrouded in obscurity, at a period when the political atmosphere was still clouded by aspirations of impossible and undesirable realization. I followed the course of the trial daily, and I interviewed the accused at his house a week before it ended. Three hundred documents were read at the trial, and 160 witnesses were brought against him. To endeavour to establish a case of conspiracy against him, another individual was produced as his colleague. The first accused was defended by an American advocate with such fervid eloquence, apparently inspired by earnest conviction of his clientʼs innocence, that those who had to decide his fate acquitted him of the charge of conspiracy on May 11, 1904. The defendantʼs verbal explanation to me of the “Labour Union” led me to the conclusion that its abolition would benefit the community.
The abnormal rise in wages had the bad effect of inducing the natives to leave their pastoral pursuits to flock into the towns. The labour question is still a difficult problem, for it is the habit of the Filipino to discontinue work when he has a surplus in his pocket. Private employers complain of scarcity and the unreliability of the unskilled labourer. Undoubtedly the majority of them would welcome the return of Chinese coolies, whose entry into the Islands is prohibited by the Insular Government, in agreement with the desire of the Filipinos, who know full well that the industrious Chinaman would lower wages and force the Filipinos into activity for an existence.
Consul-General Wildman, of Hong-Kong, in his report for 1900 to the State Department, Washington, said: “There has been, during the past year, quite an investment of Hong-Kong capital in Manila; but it is the general opinion that no investment in mines or agriculture in the Islands will be of any great value until the introduction of Chinese labour is not only permitted but encouraged.”
Section IV. of the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1902 provides that every Chinese labourer rightfully in any insular territory of the United States (Hawaii excepted), at the time of the passage of this Act, shall obtain, within one year thereafter, a certificate of residence, and upon failure to obtain such certificate he shall be deported; and the Philippine Commission is authorized and required to make all regulations necessary for the enforcement of this section in the Philippine Islands. No restriction is placed upon their movement from one island to another of the Philippines, but they cannot go from the Philippines to America.
The regulations established by the Insular Government (Act of March 27, 1903) in conformity with the above-cited Act are as follows: The Chinese can leave the Islands and return thereto within a year. They must obtain a certificate of departure and be photographed. To re-enter the Islands they must procure a certificate of departure at the place of embarkation (usually China) for the Philippines. Thus, during the year ending June 30, 1902, 10,158 Chinese entered Manila, and 11,432 left it with return certificates. Chinese resident in the Islands must be registered. The first banishment for contravention of this regulation took place on January 6, 1905.
For a long time there was a big contraband business done in Chinese. A coolie would pay as much as 400 pesos premium to find himself where he could earn up to 100 pesos per month. The contraband agent in China was an ex-Custom-house officer. The Manila agent was in the Customs service, and the colleagues on the China side were high officials. When the conspiracy was discovered the agent in China came to Manila to answer the charge, and was at once arrested. A prosecution was entered upon; but after a protracted trial, the proceedings were quashed, for reasons which need not be discussed. The Exclusion Act is so rigidly upheld that in the case of a Chinese merchant who died in the Islands leaving a fortune of about 200,000 pesos, his (Chinese) executor was refused permission to reside temporarily in the Colony for the sole purpose of winding up the deceasedʼs affairs.
The social position of the Chinese permitted to remain in the Islands has changed since the American advent. In former times, when the highest authorities frowned upon the Chinese community, it was necessary to propitiate them with bags of silver pesos. There was no Chinese consul in those days; but Chino Cárlos Palanca was practically the protector and dictator of his countrymen during the last decade of Spanish rule, and, if a cloud descended upon them from high quarters, he used to pass the word round for a dollar levy to dissipate it. In February, 1900, Chino Palanca was made a mandarin of the first class, and when his spirit passed away to the abode of his ancestors his body was followed to interment by an immense sympathetic crowd of Celestials. This pompous funeral was one of the great social events of the year. Now there is a Chinese consul in Manila whose relations to his people are very different from those between Europeans and their consuls. The Chinese consul paternally tells his countrymen what they are to do, and they do it with filial submission. He has given them to understand that they occupy a higher position than that formerly accorded to the Chinese in this Colony (vide Chinese, Chapter [viii]).
On my first visit to Manila alter the American occupation I was struck to see Chinese in the streets wearing the pigtail down their backs, and dressed in nicely-cut semi-European patrol-jacket costumes of cloth or washing-stuffs, with straw or felt “trilby” hats. Now, too, they mix freely among the whites in public places with an air of social equality, and occupy stall seats in the theatre, which they would not have dared to enter in pre-American times. The Chinese Chamber of Commerce is also of recent foundation, and its status is so far recognized by the Americans that it was invited to express an opinion on the Internal Revenue Bill, already referred to, before it became law. The number of Chinese in the whole Archipelago is estimated at about 41,000. When an enterprising American introduced a large number of jinrikishas, intending to establish that well-known system of locomotion here, the Chinese Consulate very shortly put its veto on the employment of Chinese runners. The few natives who ran them became objects of ridicule. The first person who used a jinrikisha in Manila, with Chinese in livery, was a European consul. Other whites, unaccustomed to these vehicles, took to beating the runners—a thing never seen or heard of in Japan or in colonies where they are used in thousands. The natural result was that the ʼrikisha man bolted and the ʼrikisha tilted backwards, to the discomfort of the fool riding in it. The attempted innovation failed, and the vehicles were sent out of the Colony.