Humane Legislation

We have now passed in review the political, ecclesiastical, and commercial administration of the Philippines in the olden time; and a general survey of some of the more striking results of the system as a whole may now be made. This is especially necessary on account of the traditional and widely prevalent opinion that the Spanish colonial system was always and everywhere a system of oppression and exploitation; whereas, as a matter of fact, the Spanish system, as a system of laws, always impeded the effectual exploitation of the resources of their colonies, and was far more humane in its treatment of dependent peoples than either the French or English systems.

If, on the one hand, the early conquistadores treated the natives with hideous cruelty, the Spanish government legislated more systematically and benevolently to protect them than any other colonizing power. In the time of the first conquests things moved too rapidly for the home government in those days of slow communication, and the horrors of the clash between ruthless gold-seekers and the simple children of nature, as depicted by the impassioned pen of Las Casas and spread broadcast over Europe, came to be the traditional and accepted characteristic of Spanish rule. (115) The Spanish colonial empire lasted four hundred years and it is simple historical justice that it should not be judged by its beginnings or by its collapse.

The remoteness of the Philippines, and the absence of rich deposits of gold and silver, made it comparatively easy for the government to secure the execution of its humane legislation, and for the church to dominate the colony and guide its development as a great mission for the benefit of the inhabitants. (116) To the same result contributed the unenlightened protectionism of the Seville merchants, for the studied impediments to the development of the Philippine-American trade effectually blocked the exploitation of the islands. In view of the history of our own Southern States, not less than of the history of the West Indies it should never be forgotten that although the Philippine islands are in the Tropics, they have never been the scene of the horrors of the African slave trade or of the life-wasting labors of the old plantation system.

Whether we compare the condition of the natives of the other islands in the Eastern Archipelago or of the peasants of Europe at the same time the general well-being of the Philippine mission villagers was to be envied. A few quotations from unimpeachable witnesses, travelers of wide knowledge of the Orient, may be given in illustration and proof of this view.

The famous French explorer of the Pacific, La Pérouse, who was in Manila in 1787, wrote:

”Three million people inhabit these different islands and that of Luzon contains nearly a third of them. These people seemed to me no way inferior to those of Europe; they cultivate the soil with intelligence, they are carpenters, cabinet-makers, smiths, jewelers, weavers, masons, etc. I have gone through their villages and I have found them kind, hospitabte, affable, etc.” (117)

”It is remarkable, that the Indian administration of one of the worst governments of Europe, and that in which the general principles of legislation and good government are least understood,- one too, which has never been skillfully executed, should, upon the whole, have proved the least injurious to the happiness and prosperity of the native inhabitants of the country. This, undoubtedly, has been the character of the Spanish connection with the Philippines, with all its vices, follies, and illiberalities; and the present condition of these islands affords an unquestionable proof of the fact. Almost every other country of the Archipelago is, at this day, in point of wealth, power, and civilization, in a worse state than when Europeans connected themselves with them three centuries back. The Philippines alone have improved in civilization, wealth, and populousness. When discovered. most of the tribes were a race of half-naked savages, inferior to all the great tribes, who were pushing, at the same time, an active commerce, and enjoying a respectable share of the necessaries and comforts of a civilized state. Upon the whole, they are at present superior in almost everything to any of the other races. This is a valuable and instructive fact." (118)

This judgment of Crawfurd in 1820 was echoed by Mallat (who was for a time in charge of the principal hospital in Manila), in 1846, when he expressed his belief that the inhabitants of the Philippines enjoyed a freer, happier, and more Placid life than was to be found in the colonies of any other nation. (119)

Sir John Bowring, who was long Governor of Hong Kong, was impressed with, the absence of caste:

”Generally speaking, I found a kind and generous urbanity prevailing, –friendly intercourse where that intercourse had been sought,– the lines of demarcation and separation less marked and impassable than in most oriental countries. I have seen at the same table Spaniard, Mestizo and Indian priest, civilian, and soldier. No doubt a common religion forms a common bond; but to him who has observed the alienations and repulsions of caste in many parts of the eastern world –caste, the great social curse– the binding and free intercourse of man with man in the Philippines is a contrast worth admiring.” (120)

Not less striking in its general bearing than Crawfurd's verdict is that of the German naturalist Jagor who visited the islands in 1859-1860.

”To Spain belongs the glory of having raised to a relatively high grade of civilization, improving greatly their condition, a people which she found on a lower stage of culture distracted by petty wars and despotic rule. Protected from outside enemies, governed by mild laws, the inhabitants of those splendid islands, taken as a whole, have no doubt passed a more comfortable life during recent centuries than the people of any tropical country whether under their own or European rule. This is to be accounted for in part by the peculiar conditions which protected the natives from ruthless exploitation. Yet the monks contributed an essential part to this result. Coming from among the common people, used to poverty and self-denial, their duties led them into intimate relations with the natives and they were naturally fitted to adapt the foreign religion and morals to practical use. So, too, in later times, when they came to possess rich livings, and their pious zeal, in general, relaxed as their revenues increased, they still contributed most essentially to bring about conditions, both good and bad, which we have described, since, without families of their own and without refined culture, intimate association with the children of the soil was a necessity to them. Even their haughty opposition to the secular authorities was generally for the advantage of the natives.” (121).

Similar testimony from a widely different source is contained in the charming sketch Malay Life in the Philippines by William Gifford Palgrave, whose profound knowledge of oriental life and character and his experience in such divergent walks in life as soldier and Jesuit missionary in India, pilgrim to Mecca, and English consul in Manila, give his opinion more than ordinary value.

“To clerical government,” he writes ”paradoxical as the statement may sound in modern European ears, the Philippine islands owe, more than to anything else, their internal prosperity, the Malay population its sufficiency and happiness. This it is that again and again has stood a barrier of mercy and justice between the weaker and stronger race, the vanquished and the victor; this has been the steady protector of the native inhabitants, this their faithful benefactor, their sufficient leader and guide. With the 'Cura' for father, and the 'Capitan' for his adjutant, a Philippine hamlet feels and knows little of the vexations inseparable from direct and foreign official administration; and if under such a rule 'progress,' as we love to term it, be rare, disaffection and want are rarer still."

”Not so much what they have, but rather what they have not, makes the good fortune of the Philippines, the absence of European Enterprise, the absence of European Capital. A few European capitalist settlers, a few giant estates, a few central factories, a few colossal money-making combinations of organized labour and gainful produce, and all the equable balance of property and production, of ownership and labour that now leaves to the poorest cottager enough, and yet to the total colony abundance to spare, would be disorganized, displaced, upset; to be succeeded by day labour, pauperism, government relief, subscriptions, starvation. Europe, gainful, insatiate Europe would reap the harvest; but to the now happy, contented, satiate Philippine Archipelago, what would remain but the stubble, but leanness, want, unrest, misery?" (122)

The latest witness to the average well-being of the natives under the old system whom I shall quote is Mr. Sawyer.

”If the natives fared badly at the hands of recent authors, the Spanish Administration fared worse, for it has been painted in the darkest tints, and unsparingly condemned. It was indeed corrupt and defective, and what government is not? More than anything else it was behind the age, yet it was not without its good points.

“Until an inept bureaucracy was substituted for the old paternal rule, and the revenue quadrupled by increased taxation, the Filipinos were as happy a community as could be found in any colony. The population greatly multiplied; they lived in competence, if not in affluence; cultivation was extended, and the exports steadily increased. Let us be just; what British, French, or Dutch colony, populated by natives can compare with the Philippines as they were until 1895?” (123)

These striking judgments, derived from such a variety of sources, are a sufficient proof that our popular ideas of the Spanish colonial system are quite as much in need of revision as popular ideas usually are. Yet one must not forget that the Spanish mission system, however useful and benevolent as an agency in bringing a barbarous people within the pale of Christian civilization, could not be regarded as permanent unless this life is looked upon simply as a preparation for heaven.

As an educative system it had its bounds and limits; it could train to a certain, point and no farther. To prolong it beyond that stage would be to prolong carefully nurtured childhood to the grave, never allowing it to be displaced by self-reliant manhood. The legal status of the Indians before the law was that of minors, and no. provision was made for their arriving at their majority. The clergy looked upon these wards of the State as the school-children of the church, and compelled the observance of her ordinances even with the rod. La Pérouse says: ”The only thought was to make Christians and never citizens. This people was divided into parishes, and subjected to the most minute and extravagant observances. Each fault, each sin is still punished by the rod. Failure to attend prayers and mass has its fixed penalty, and punishment is administered to men and women at the door of the church by order of the pastor.” (124) Le Gentil describes such a scene in a little village a few miles from Manila, where one Sunday afternoon he saw a crowd, chiefly Indian women, following a woman who was to be whipped at the church door for not having been to mass. (125)

The prevalence of a supervision and discipline so parental for the mass of the people in the colony could but react upon the ruling class, and La Pérouse remarks upon the absence of individual liberty in the islands: ”No liberty is enjoyed: inquisitors and monks watch- the consciences; the oidors (judges of the Audiencia) all private affairs; the governor, the most innocent movements; an excursion to the interior, a conversation come before his jurisdiction; in fine, the most beautiful and charming country in the world is certainly the last that a free man would choose to live in.” (126)

Intellectual apathy, one would naturally suppose, must be the consequence of such sedulous oversight, and intellectual progress impossible. Progress in scientific knowledge was, indeed, quite effectually blocked.

The French astronomer Le Gentil gives an interesting account of the conditions of scientific knowledge at the two Universities in Manila. These institutions seemed to be the last refuge of the scholastic ideas and methods that had been discarded in Europe. A Spanish engineer frankly confessed to him that “in the sciences Spain was a hundred years behind France, and that in Manila they were a hundred years behind Spain.” Nothing of electricity was known but the name, and making experiments in it had been forbidden by the Inquisition. Le Gentil also strongly suspected that the professor of Mathematics at the Jesuit College still held to the Ptolemaic system. (127)

But when we keep in mind the small number of ecclesiastics in the islands we must clear them of the charge of intellectual idleness. Their activity, on the other hand, considering the climate was remarkable. (128) An examination of J. T. Medina's monumental work (129) on printing in Manila and of Retana's supplement (130) reveals nearly five hundred titles of works printed in the islands before 1800. This of course takes no account of the works sent or brought to Spain for publication, which would necessarily comprise a large proportion of those of general rather than local interest, including of course the most important histories. To these should be added no small number of grammars and dictionaries of the native languages, and missionary histories, that have never been printed. (131)

The monastic presses in the islands naturally were chiefly used for the production of works of religious edification, such as catechisms, narratives of missions, martyrdoms, lives of saints, religious histories, and hand-books to the native languages. Simpler manuals of devotion, rosaries, catechisms, outlines of Christian doctrine, stories of martyrdoms, etc., were translated for the Indians. Of these there were about sixty in the Tagal, and from three to ten or twelve each in the Visayan, Vicol, Pampanga, Ilocan, Panayan, and Pangasinán languages. (132) If, as is credibly asserted, the knowledge of reading and writing was more generally diffused in the Philippines than among the common people of Europe, (133) we have the singular result that the islands contained relatively more people who could read, and less reading matter of any but purely religious interest, than any other community in the world.

Yet it would not be altogether safe to assume that in the eighteenth century the list of printed translations into the native languages comprised everything of European literature available for reading; for the Spanish government, in order to promote the learning of Spanish, had prohibited at times the printing of books in Tagal. (134) Furthermore, Zúñiga says explicitly that “after the coming of the Spaniards they (i. e. the people in Luzon) have had comedies, interludes, tragedies, poems, and every kind of literary work translated from the Spanish, without producing a native poet who has composed even an interlude.” (135) Again, Zúñiga describes a eulogistic poem of welcome addressed by a Filipino villager to Commodore Alava. This loa, as this species of composition was called, was replete with references to the voyages of Ulysses, the travels of Aristotle, the unfortunate death of Pliny, and other incidents in ancient history. The allusions indicate some knowledge at any rate outside the field of Christian doctrine, even if it was so slight as not to make it seem beyond the limits of poetic license to have Aristotle drown himself in chagrin at not being able to measure the depths of the sea, or to have Pliny throw himself into Vesuvius in his zeal to investigate the causes of its eruption.

The literary interests of the Indians found their chief expression however in the adaptation of Spanish plays for presentation on religious holidays.

Zúñiga gives an entertaining description of these plays. They were usually made up from three or four Spanish tragedies, the materials of which were so ingeniously interwoven that the mosaic seemed a single piece. The characters were always Moors and Christians, and the action centered in the desire of Moors to marry Christian princesses or of Christians to marry Moorish princesses. The Christian appears at a Moorish tournament or vice versa. The hero and heroine fall in love but their parents oppose obstacles to the match. To overcome the difficulties in case of a Moor and Christian princess was comparatively easy. A war opportunely breaks out in which, after prodigies of valor, the Moor is converted and baptized, and the wedding follows.

The case is not so easy when a Christian prince loves a Moorish lady. Since he can never forsake his religion his tribulations are many. He is imprisoned, and his princess aids in his attempt to escape, which sometimes costs him his life; or if the scene is laid in war time either the princess is converted and escapes to the Christian army, or the prince dies a tragic death. The hero is usually provided with a Christ, or other image or relic, given him by his dying mother, which extricates him from his many plights. He meets lions and bears, and highwaymen attack him; but from all he escapes by a miracle. If, however, some principal personage is not taken off by a tragic end, the Indians find the play insipid.

During the intermission one or two clowns come out and raise a laugh by jests that are frigid enough “to freeze hot water in the tropics.” After the play is over a clown appears again and criticizes the play and makes satirical comments on the village officials. These plays usually lasted three days. (136) Le Gentil attended one of them and says that he does not believe any one in the world was ever so bored as he was.(137) Yet the Indians were passionately fond of these performances. (138)

If one may judge from Retana's catalogue of his Philippine collection arranged in chronological order, the sketch we have given of the literature accessible to Filipinos who could not read Spanish in the eighteenth century would serve not unfairly for much of the nineteenth. The first example of secular prose fiction I have noted in his lists is Friar Bustamente's pastoral novel depicting the quiet charms of country life as compared with the anxieties and tribulations of life in Manila. (139) His collection did not contain so far as I noticed a single secular historical narrative in Tagal or anything in natural science.

Sufficient familiarity with Spanish to compensate for this lack of books of secular knowledge was enjoyed by very few Indians in the country districts and these had learned it mainly while servants of the curate. It was the common opinion of the Spanish authorities that the Friars purposely neglected instructing the Indians in Spanish, in order to perpetuate their hold upon them; but Zúñiga repels this charge as unjust and untrue. (140)

It is obvious that it was impracticable for the Indians to learn Spanish under the mission system. For the pastor of a pueblo of several hundred families to teach the children Spanish was an impossibility. A few words or simple phrases might be learned, but the lack of opportunity for constant or even frequent practice of the language in general conversation would make their attainments in it far below those of American grammar-school children in German in cities where that has been a compulsory study. (141)

As long as the mission system isolated the pueblos from contact with the world at large, it of necessity followed that the knowledge of Spanish would be practically limited to such Indians as lived in Manila or the larger towns, or learned it in the households of the Friars. Slavery with its forced transplanting has been the only means by which large masses of alien or lower races have been lifted into the circle of European thought and endowed with a European language. If such a result is secured in the future in any large measure for the Filipino, it can be accomplished only by the translation of English or Spanish literature into the Tagal and other languages, on a scale not less generous than the work of the Friars in supplying the literature of religious edification. This will be a work of not less than two or three generations, and of a truly missionary devotion.