He went to Cuba to help the people to get rid of their rubbish.
He went to Porto Rico because he thought that he was needed.
He went to the Philippines on a business trip, and is there yet. He will probably make up his mind to stay there though he is still halting a little. In less than a year he will have decided, and in the meantime he will do some hard thinking about it, just as he has been doing since May 1, 1898.
It is to this problem that we will now address ourselves—for it is still a problem with some—not to questions of method in administration, which should be determined by experience, but to the ethical, political and practical considerations involved in the term expansion, or if you please, imperialism.
First of all, the occupation of the Philippines by the United States is regarded by the average American citizen as a moral question. “Is it right to extend our authority over the Philippines, even, if necessary, by force of arms”? This is the question we all have been asking ourselves, the question that the “anti-imperialists” have promptly answered in the negative, while the great majority of opinion seems to be slowly swinging in the opposite direction, in agreement with the present administration.
But the answer to this question, startling as it may seem, is that it is not primarily an ethical question, whatever ethical phases it may have. “What,” you ask, “do not all governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed?” Well, let us see about that; and in order to see clearly and dispassionately let us get outside of America as it were, so that we may look at this proposition from a convenient distance.
People sometimes make mistakes. Whole nations sometimes make the same mistake. Indeed, on a fundamental proposition a whole civilization during successive periods of history covering many centuries has been known to swing from one extreme to the other and backward again. Such movements are often likened to the swing of a mighty pendulum, or better still, to the rising and narrowing coils of a spiral.
Naturally, one of the subjects upon which men have thought the most and disagreed the most and therefore made the most mistakes is the relation of the individual to the state. Less than three centuries ago one of the fundamental maxims of government was that the individual exists for the state and not the state for the individual. This is one extreme. Up to the time of Rousseau there was no marked philosophical change upon this subject on the continent of Europe. With him and those after him began that marvelous reaction—that tidal wave of philosophic thought and popular conviction away from absolutism and in the direction of the rights of man. If this movement should reach its climax in the opposite extreme it would mean anarchy—and that is what it reached in the French Revolution.
It was but a few years before its climax, however, that our own Declaration of Independence was written, the writers whereof were thoroughly in sympathy with the movement toward the rights of man. Hence we hear in America the calm statement, “We believe that all men are by nature free and equal”, while in France we hear the frenzied cry, “Liberty! Equality! Fraternity!”
The individual has at last secured his long coveted freedom. But it is only to be confronted with a still greater question, namely: What is he to do with his freedom? How is he to use it?