In joining the volunteer army, as when he delivered the first anti-imperialist speech, Colonel Bryan had acted against the advice of many of his closest personal and political friends. Despite his decisive defeat for the presidency in 1896, he had not only maintained but even strengthened his position as the recognized leader of the Democratic party and its allies. Undaunted by the result of the campaign, he had almost immediately resumed the fight for bimetallism. He had published a book reviewing the contest under the suggestive and defiant title “The First Battle.” He had taken to the lecture platform and to the political hustings, vigorously, hopefully, and earnestly propagating the principles of democracy, unwavering, unwearying, and undisturbed by the general depression of his followers and as general exultation of his opponents. He was the incarnation of the spirit of conservative reform, and all parties had come to regard him as the prophet and supreme leader of the new movement back to Jeffersonian principles. His friends feared to have him accept a commission, not only on the ground that his doing so might later compel his silence at a time when his voice ought to be heard, but more largely because they dreaded the possibility of having his motive impugned. It was evident to them, as to Colonel Bryan himself, that by taking up the role of colonel of a volunteer regiment, he had much to risk and lose, and little, if anything, to gain. But the Democratic leader was not to be dissuaded. Content in his own knowledge that his motive was worthy and patriotic, he assumed and bore unostentatiously and yet with dignity the office of military leader of 1,300 of his Nebraska friends and neighbors. He remained faithfully with his regiment, living the slow and tedious life of the camp, until the treaty of peace was signed with Spain in December, 1898. That treaty provided not only for the cession of Porto Rico to the United States and Spanish relinquishment of all claim to sovereignty over Cuba, but further for the turning over of the Philippine Islands to the United States on the payment of $20,000,000. This last concession was wrung from Spain by the insistent and uncompromising demand of the American Peace Commissioners, under instructions from the state department at Washington.
Shortly after the treaty was signed, President McKinley blasted the fond hopes for independence that had been planted in the Filipinos’ breasts by issuing this proclamation:
“With the signature of the treaty of peace between the United States and Spain by their respective plenipotentiaries at Paris on the tenth instant, and as the result of the victories of American arms, the future control, disposition, and government of the Philippine Islands are ceded to the United States. In fulfilment of the rights of sovereignty thus acquired, and the responsible obligations of government thus assumed, the actual occupation and administration of the entire group of the Philippine Islands become immediately necessary, and the military government heretofore maintained by the United States in the city, harbor, and bay of Manila is to be extended with all possible dispatch to the whole of the ceded territory.”
Prior to this time, and later, the President explained his position on the Philippine question, and we quote from him at some length.
At Chicago, in October, 1898, he said: “My countrymen, the currents of destiny flow through the hearts of the people. Who will check them? Who will divert them? Who will stop them? And the movements of men, planned and designed by the Master of men, will never be interrupted by the American people.”
At the Atlanta (Ga.) Peace Jubilee in December of the same year, he said: “That [the American] flag has been planted in two hemispheres, and there it remains, the symbol of liberty and law, of peace and progress. Who will withhold it from the people over whom it floats its protecting folds? Who will haul it down?”
At Savannah, a day or two later he said: “If, following the clear precepts of duty, territory falls to us, and the welfare of an alien people requires our guidance and protection, who will shrink from the responsibility, grave though it may be? Can we leave these people who, by the fortunes of war and our own acts, are helpless and without government, to chaos and anarchy after we have destroyed the only government that they had?”
At the Home Market Club, in Boston, on February 16, 1899, he explained himself more fully, saying: “Our concern was not for territory or trade or empire, but for the people whose interests and destiny, without our willing it, had been put in our hands. It was with this feeling that from the first day to the last not one word or line went from the Executive in Washington to our military and naval commanders at Manila or to our Peace Commissioners at Paris that did not put as the sole purpose to be kept in mind, first, after the success of our arms and the maintenance of our own honor, the welfare and happiness and the rights of the inhabitants of the Philippine Islands. Did we need their consent to perform a great act for humanity? If we can benefit these remote peoples, who will object? If, in the years of the future, they are established in government under law and liberty, who will regret our perils and sacrifices? Who will not rejoice in our heroism and humanity?”
One more quotation. At Minneapolis, October 12, 1899, President McKinley delivered himself of this utterance: “That Congress will provide for them [the Filipinos] a government which will bring them blessings, which will promote their material interests, as well as advance their people in the paths of civilization and intelligence, I confidently believe.”
With such phrase-making as this, concealing in sonorous periods the most un-American of sentiments, Colonel Bryan’s utterance, delivered immediately after he had resigned his commission, stands out in bold and pleasing relief: “I may be in error, but in my judgment our nation is in greater danger just now than Cuba. Our people defended Cuba against foreign arms; now they must defend themselves and their country against a foreign idea—the colonial idea of European nations. Heretofore greed has perverted the government and used its instrumentalities for private gains, but now the very foundation principles of our government are assaulted. Our nation must give up any intention of entering upon a colonial policy, such as is now pursued by European countries, or it must abandon the doctrine that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed. To borrow a Bible quotation ‘A house divided against itself can not stand.’ Paraphrasing Lincoln’s declaration, I may add that this nation can not endure half republic and half colony, half free and half vassal. Our form of government, our traditions, our present interests, and our future welfare, all forbid our entering upon a career of conquest....