The history of the last 150 years shows that the Chinese, although tolerated, were always regarded by the Spanish colonists as an unwelcome race, and the natives have learnt, from example, to despise them. From time to time, especially since the year 1763, the feeling against them has run very high.
The public clamoured for restrictions on their arrival, impediments to the traffic of those already established there, intervention of the authorities with respect to their dwellings and mode of living, and not a few urged their total expulsion. Indeed, such influence was brought to bear on the Indian Council at Madrid during the temporary Governorship of Juan Arechedera, Bishop of Nueva Segovia (1745–50), that the Archbishop received orders to expel the Chinese from the Islands; but, on the ground that to have done so would have prejudiced public interests, he simply archived the decree. Even up to the close of Spanish rule, the authorities and the national trading class considered the question from very distinct points of view; for the fact is, that only the mildest action was taken—just enough to appease the wild demands of the people. Still, the Chinaman was always subject to the ebb and flow of the tide of official goodwill, and only since 1843 were Chinese shops allowed to be opened on the same terms as other foreigners. There are now streets of Chinese shops.
The Chinaman is always ready to sell at any price which will leave him a trifling nett gain, whereas the native, having earned sufficient for his immediate wants, would stubbornly refuse to sell his wares except at an enormous profit.
Again, but for Chinese coolie competition,[3] constant labour from the natives would have been almost unprocurable. The native day-labourer would work two or three days, and then suddenly disappear. The active Chinaman goes day after day to his task (excepting only at the time of the Chinese New Year, in January or February), and can be depended upon; thus the needy native was pushed, by alien competition, to bestir himself. In my time, in the port of Yloilo, four foreign commercial houses had to incur the expense and risk of bringing Chinese coolies for loading and discharging vessels, whilst the natives coolly lounged about and absolutely refused to work. Moreover, the exactions of the native create a serious impediment to the development of the Colony. Only a very small minority of the labouring class will put their hands to work without an advance on their wages, and will often demand it without any guarantee whatsoever. If a native is commissioned to perform any kind of service, he will refuse to stir without a sum of money beforehand, whilst the Chinese very rarely expect payment until they have given value for it. Only the direst necessity will make an unskilled native work steadily for several weeks for a wage which is only to be paid when due. There is scarcely a single agriculturist who is not compelled to sink a share of his capital in making advances to his labourers, who, nevertheless, are in no way legally bound thereby to serve the capitalist; or, whether they are or not, the fact is, that a large proportion of this capital so employed must be considered lost. There are certain lines of business quite impossible without the co-operation of Chinese, and their exclusion will be a loss to the Colony.
Taxes were first levied on the Mongol traders in 1828. In 1852 a general reform of the fiscal laws was introduced, and the classification of Chinese dealers was modified. They were then divided into four grades or classes, each paying contributions according to the new tariff.
In 1886 the universal depression, which was first manifest in this Colony in 1884, still continued. Remedies of most original character were suggested in the public organs and private circles, and a renewed spasmodic tirade was directed against the Chinese. A petition, made and signed by numbers of the retail trading class, was addressed to the Sovereign; but it appears to have found its last resting-place in the Colonial Secretaryʼs waste-paper basket. The Americans in the United States and Mexico were in open riot against the Celestials—the Governments of Australia had imposed a capitation tax on their entry[4]—in British Columbia there was a party disposed to throw off its allegiance to Great Britain rather than forego its agitation against the Chinese. Why should not the Chinese be expelled from the Philippines, it was asked, or at least be permitted only to pursue agriculture in the Islands? In 1638, around Calamba and along the Laguna shore, they tilled the land; but the selfishness and jealousy of the natives made their permanence impossible. In 1850 the Chinese were invited to take up agriculture, but the rancorous feeling of the natives forced them to abandon the idea, and to seek greater security in the towns.
The chief accusation levelled against the Chinaman is, that he comes as an adventurer and makes money, which he carries away, without leaving any trace of civilization behind him. The Chinese immigrant is of the lowest social class. Is not the dream of the European adventurer, of the same or better class, to make his pile of dollars and be off to the land of his birth? If he spends more money in the Colony than the Chinaman does, it is because he lacks the Chinamanʼs self-abnegation and thriftiness. Is the kind of civilization taught in the colonies by low-class European settlers superior?
The Chinaman settled in the Philippines under Spanish rule was quite a different being to the obstinate, self-willed, riotous coolie in Hong-Kong or Singapore. In Manila he was drilled past docility—in six months he became even fawning, cringing, and servile, until goaded into open rebellion. Whatever position he might attain to, he was never addressed (as in the British Colonies) as “Mr.” or “Esqre,” or the equivalent, “Señor D.,” but always “Chinaman ——” (“Chino ——”).
The total expulsion of the Chinese in Spanish times would have been highly prejudicial to trade. Had it suited the State policy to check the ingress of the Chinese, nothing would have been easier than the imposition of a ₱50 poll tax. To compel them to take up agriculture was out of the question in a Colony where there was so little guarantee for their personal safety. The frugality, constant activity, and commendable ambition of the Celestial clashes with the dissipation, indolence and want of aim in life of the native. There is absolutely no harmony of thought, purpose, or habit between the Philippine Malay native and the Mongol race, and the consequence of Chinese coolies working on plantations without ample protection would be frequent assassinations and open affray. Moreover, a native planter could never manage, to his own satisfaction or interest, an estate worked with Chinese labour, but the European might. The Chinese is essentially of a commercial bent, and, in the Philippines at least, he prefers taking his chance as to the profits, in the bubble and risk of independent speculation, rather than calmly labour at a fixed wage which affords no stimulus to his efforts.
Plantations worked by Chinese owners with Chinese labour might nave succeeded, but those who arrived in the Colony brought no capital, and the Government never offered them gratuitous allotment of property. A law relating to the concession of State lands existed (”Terrenos baldíos” and “Colonias agrícolas”), but it was enveloped in so many entanglements and so encompassed by tardy process and intricate conditions, that few Orientals or Europeans took advantage of it.