I do not deny to any American citizen the right to entertain his own opinion as to the wisdom of any public policy, including that of the administration toward the Philippines. Nor do I deny that there may be Americans of undoubted patriotism who conscientiously oppose that policy. But there are times and occasions for all things; and there are occasions when open criticism of the Government amounts to treason. So there are times when it is the duty of every patriot to support the Government, without regard to private difference of opinion. As for the present, it is one of those occasions when the patriot should say, with Winthrop: "Our country, however bounded or described—still our country—to be cherished in all our hearts; to be defended by all our hands!"
There is an hour for debate and there is time for argument, wherein the Government may easily be shown to be in the wrong. But in the hour of battle, so long as any armed foe of the flag is above the sod, the patriot can only exclaim: "My country—may she never be in the wrong; but right or wrong, my country!"
While we may safely leave to the Government the subjugation of its enemies at home or abroad, there can be no harm in discussing here some of the arguments that have been advanced in all honesty against the policy now generally known as "imperialism," or "territorial expansion." The anti-expansionists honestly opposed the annexation of Hawaii; but Hawaii is already annexed, and as truly a part of the national domain as Massachusetts or New York. In like manner Porto Rico is ours, for better, for worse, till death or dissolution shall us part. As for Cuba, we hold it in trust for the Cubans, against the time when those enigmatical patriots shall prove their ability and worthiness to rule themselves or their country. When is that time to come? We ourselves are to be the judges. I am not a prophet nor the son of a prophet, but I hold it to be vastly significant that the majority of intelligent Cuban civilians seem to look forward, not with pleasure but with dread to that much-talked-of millennium, "Cuba for the Cubans."
The tendency of the times, in government as in commerce, is clearly centripetal, not centrifugal. There is not an island in the West Indies whose condition would not be improved by annexation to this Republic; and, after all, self-interest is the main-spring of all national policies. I would rather predict that Canada and British America, Mexico and the Central American states are destined for ultimate (and peaceful) admission to this Union, than that we are to take a single backward step along the lines so clearly laid down by the war with Spain.
But the Philippines present to the eye another and a broader question. Here is an archipelago removed from our center of population by one-half the circumference of the globe; peopled by a race—or, rather, races—wholly alien to any hitherto admitted to our citizenship, and—most important of all—plunged into the very vortex of that boiling cauldron known as the Eastern question.
What is to be our policy toward those remote islands?—to retain them or to let them go?
The objections that have thus far been raised to our retention of the Philippines come chiefly under these heads: 1, Constitutional; 2, Our "historic policy;" 3, Utility or self-interest.
And first as to the constitutional questions involved. For so young a nation the United States has already passed through numerous crises, chiefly arising over the acquisition of new territory, and it is noteworthy that in each of these the policy of the Government has been opposed by a conscientious minority on the plea of alleged unconstitutionality. Once more we are warned, in the present crisis, that the acquisition and proposed retention of the Philippines are without warrant in the constitution of the United States.