Tag Francis Burton Harrison

May 24, 1943

Osmeña was operated upon hurriedly on Saturday last for appendicitis. Quezon goes down to Doctors’ Hospital every day to call on him.

The President told me of a recent meeting of the Pacific War Council. Mr. Roosevelt had opened with a talk of Attu, of which he had a large map. Evidently, he intended this to be the end of the meeting, but Mr. Churchill took the floor. Quezon remarked that if he had not heard his statement, he would have had quite an erroneous idea of the situation in the Pacific merely from hearing Churchill’s previous recent address to the American Congress.

The Prime Minister now explained to the Council quite frankly that England could not undertake the prosecution of a campaign in Burma —they could, he said, use only a certain sized fore there, and dded: “The Japanese are better than we at jungle fighting.” Now, he could not supply the men to put the Burma road into proper condition and to maintain it. “This,” remarked Quezon to me “left me in some doubt as to whether the British Government really wanted to help China.” Thereupon, H.H. Kung made a “silly speech” and begged Churchill to open up the Burma road for them, adding that it was probably a choice of generals! Churchill interrupted to say, tartly: “I hope the time will never come when England cannot select its own generals.”

Churchill continued and stated that he heartily backed the present Australian demand, presented by Dr. Evatt, for more planes than the 400 he had requested. Roosevelt replied that both Australia and General Chennault were to get more planes than those for which they had originally asked.

In some unexplained way, Quezon seemed to think that the big attack on Japan was to come from Siberia! He also felt that the Philippines would be reclaimed from the enemy by direct attack which would be ruinous to his country.

Quezon added that from listening to these debates on the War Council he is inclined to believe that Churchill will not enter upon any more military or naval enterprises unless he is seventy per cent sure of success. For his own part, Quezon added while attending the meeting of the Pacific War Council, he was confining his part strictly to the interests of the Philippines. These seemed to fit in with the English plans. He recalled such Englishmen as he had liked personally in the Philippines, such as Horace Whittall Pat Jollye —then he added reflectively: “Who would ever have expected the time to come when I should appear to be backing English imperialism?” He does indeed, at the present juncture, seem to be inclined towards English strategy. For years I have been cautioning Quezon not to neglect the importance for his country of the sympathetic backing of Great Britain.

Quezon next turned to political history as he had seen it unfold. He believed that Woodrow Wilson was the greatest American of this half century. Of Roosevelt, he commented: “He stands the criticism against him throughout the United States admirably,” adding: “I should be bursting out all the time.” He thinks Churchill is a greater man than Roosevelt.

Then Quezon turned to recollections of his service in the American Congress as Resident Commissioner from the Philippines, and dwelt on the failure to get the Clarke Amendment to the Jones Bill in 1916 through the House of Representatives. Senator Clarke introduced his bill for independence of the Philippines effective within two years. He was a solitary man who did his own thinking, and never went to the White House. So President Wilson went to Clarke’s apartment and asked him to change the period before full independence from two to four years because the first World War was then in full swing. Clarke was flattered and accepted the suggestion. The Philippine bill including this “Clarke Amendment” passed the Senate by the deciding vote of Vice President Marshall. In the House, however, Fitzgerald and his large bloc Roman Catholic Democrats bolted the Democratic leadership and killed the Clarke Amendment. The only Catholics in the House to vote for the amendment were Ansberry of Ohio and Broussard of Louisiana. It appears that Osmeña had cabled Quezon from Manila not exactly expressing his own opposition to the Clarke Amendment but quoting adverse opinions of his followers —Rafael Palma, etc.

Independence for the Philippines in 1918 or 1920 would among other favorable results, have prevented the growth there of the “sugar barons” and might even, later on, have staved off the Japanese invasion. Their economy would have stood up to the test at that time better than in the subsequent period when sugar dominated the market.

May 16, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon busy writing a letter in his own hand to Osmeña in answer to a brief submitted to him by the latter. This is the opening gun in the contest between the two for the presidency of the Commonwealth after November 15, 1943. Quezon read me the salient points of Osmeña’s brief, all of which were citations as to the constitutionality of a government-in-exile. Quezon now points out that all of Osmeña’s authorities refer to formerly independent states now (or formerly) in enemy occupation; these examples are irrelevant, since the Philippine Commonwealth has never been an independent government and the issue now lies between the United States and Japan–so the whole subject is in the hands of President Roosevelt, and he alone can decide what part of the Commonwealth Government and of its constitution are in force today. This leaves little doubt that Quezon will remain as President of the Philippines even after his present term of two years, expiring December 31, 1943, has run out. This would bar Osmeña from enjoying the two years as President to which he was elected by the Philippine people, just before the invasion by the Japanese. Since Quezon is being privately advised by Justices Murphy and Frankfurter, there can be little doubt of the outcome. Opinion around headquarters is that Osmeña will not offer serious resistance.

The part of Osmeña’s offer to Quezon which aroused the latter’s indignation was the proposition that Quezon should continue to live in the magnificent suite in the Shoreham when Osmeña assumed the presidency, and that Quezon should become President of the Council of State, which as he points out was the same old suggestion made to me as Governor General in 1919, [sic] when Osmeña tried to persuade me to disassociate myself from the new Council of State under his own presidency–a proposal which I then rejected.

At all events, Quezon feels that Osmeña’s offer to him now is “insulting.” I have no idea of the contents of Quezon’s letter of reply and probably never shall know but I consider it now practically certain that Quezon will remain as President until at least the Philippines are reoccupied. I had previously told him I did not believe that Roosevelt would tolerate any other plan.

Whether this is politically wise for Quezon is another matter. As Trepp says he weakened his political future when he left Corregidor, and the present project that he shall hold the presidency of the Commonwealth for the two years for which Osmeña had been elected president by the Filipinos, while practically unavoidable, will weaken him still further with the people at home. Quien sabe?

Meanwhile the Japanese radio announcements of statements by leading Filipinos continue to unsettle Philippine headquarters in Washington–however, these are now considered either as downright Japanese lies, or else as statements made under duress. Collier ‘s, May 22, 1943, publishes a recent statement by George Vargas: “It becomes our pleasant duty to share the joy of liberated millions… victory for Japan is victory for the Philippines.” At the same time, the Japanese radio announced that Vargas’ son had been sent to Tokyo to the University–ostensibly for study, but we assume, as a hostage for his father’s “good behaviour.” Manuel Roxas is in his own home in Manila, under “protective custody.” Generals Lim and Capinpin have apparently issued statements that the Americans let them down in the Philippine war and they are in favour of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. Both of these Generals are now at liberty.

There is evidently still a great deal of ill-feeling among those who surround Quezon (but not in his own mind) because of the failure of the United States to make any effort to relieve Corregidor, after all the abundant promises made to that end in the early stages of the invasion. Mrs. Bewley, who brought her daughter out just before the fall of Corregidor in an American Navy plane to Freemantle, Australia, is still bitter about the lack of effort made by the United States in the theatre of the Philippines. Her husband is a prisoner in Manila–or at Los Baños. Her plane was the only one of the three that got through. One was shot down over Corregidor and all on board lost; one fell in Lake Lanao and all were drowned. This was the end of what had frankly been considered a “suicide mission.”

Quezon took me out for a long drive. I tried to get his mind fixed on pleasant thoughts–got him to tell me of the making of Tagaytay ridge into a resort now by the new road only 40 minutes from Manila–the resort is at 2,500 feet altitude–plenty of water (and wind!).

At Malacañan he has cleaned out the slaughter house and dog pound across the Pasig River and all other “smelly things” on the swampy land opposite the Palace and has turned it all into a park–where I used to shoot snipe! He fears the Japanese will destroy Malacañan if they have to evacuate the Islands. So far they have done no damage there and have not even occupied the Palace.

Secretary Knox told him the Japanese could have taken Dutch Harbor if they had tried; now their occupation of Kiska and Attu really made no difference–we could get them out whenever we cared to try.

Quezon thinks Roosevelt tried to get us into the war immediately after the fall of France but that the American “isolationists” prevented this at that time; it was Pearl Harbor that was the immediate cause of our fighting.

May 15, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Dr. Trepp tells me that Quezon is in very much better condition; that his blood pressure is down to 160–about right for his age; that the past week has been largely given up to interviews with Supreme Court Justices Murphy and Frankfurter, and when I saw Quezon he told me the “legal” position as to the Philippine Government-in-Exile (probably worked out by the two justices) viz.: that only authority since the Japanese occupied the Islands is President Roosevelt, and he will decide about any change in the person to head the Philippine Government-in-Exile. This assures Quezon of continuance in office until the Islands are re-occupied by the United States and a new election is held. This, however, is not the sole cause of Quezon’s good spirits and improved health; the allied victory in Tunisia has sent the barometer up again.

Quezon says he has decided to give up his pressure of work as much as possible; no more evening work, and no more bridge. He is alone with his family in the evenings now; during the day he sees only those visitors absolutely necessary. Stays in bed as late as he can in the morning; has indefinitely postponed work on his book.

Called Bernstein and me into conference about the future of the “Office of Special Services” at 1617 Massachusetts Avenue. Will not ask for deferment of draft of the Americans now in that office, since he says he does not feel that he has the right to do so. Bernstein, himself, is not asking for deferment (tells me of the example of what happened to several of the new-style “planners” in the Federal Government); he has evidently been made nervous by the strength of feeling in Congress. Bernstein will be drafted July 1st, and his assistant, Dr. Cherin, will probably get a commission this Summer.

Bernstein had submitted to Quezon a memorandum on the future of the “Office of Special Services”–proposing that the head of it hereafter be given cabinet rank, proposing Dr. Rotor, the President’s Secretary, as head of this office. Quezon refused to consider this, said he could not give up any of Rotor’s time and duties as fixed at present. Quezon complimented Bernstein on his work and said that since he was leaving, he (Q.) had considered abolishing the rest of the office. But now he wished to put me in there to supervise this office–I spending half my time in Washington.

It looks to me if Elizalde had been right in the very beginning (when Q. first made this suggestion to me early in December last) that I was to be a banana peel for Bernstein! Since then Bernstein has made very good, and it looks as if the transfer of Bernstein and of his second in command to the army would leave me as the banana peel for the rest of the office!

Some talk in the antechamber of my going on Monday to the Hot Springs Conference with the Philippine delegation, but shortly afterwards they managed to get in touch with General Basilio Valdes, so he came East at once by plane to join the delegation–thus making it all-Filipino, as it ought to be.

Later: Valdes appeared, having come by plane from Fort Leavenworth, where he was studying at the Army Staff College. He was loth to give up his studies, but off he goes tomorrow with Elizalde, Rotor and Zafra to Hot Springs. The American press much vexed because it is not allowed to attend the sessions of the “Food Congress.” Newspapers are indulging in all sorts of bitterness and “smear stuff.”

April 29-May 1, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon back from three weeks rest at Miami as guest of the military intelligence service. Originally he had planned to have me spend a fortnight with him to “finish his book” but on arrival there with his family he wired me there was no room available for me in the house which was provided for him. The real reason, however, as Trepp tells me, is that he was absolutely tired out, and spent the whole three weeks sleeping, resting and playing two-handed bridge. Dr. Trepp says that Quezon is in “good physical condition” but he, Trepp, does not know whether the President will live to get back to the Philippines if that is delayed four or five years longer. Quezon is already homesick, and much depressed by this “global strategy” which has postponed the prosecution of the Pacific War in favour of the European theatre. Trepp says Quezon is “wearing down.” He admits it is chiefly a question of spirit, and on this count, Quezon is getting gradually to realize how the cards are stacked against him and his country. Also he is deeply worried as to whether the Filipino leaders will continue to stand by him or whether they are provoked because Quezon and his family are safe in Washington while they are suffering under the Japanese occupation.

I had only two sizeable conversations with Quezon in these three days. A good deal of our talk was over the attempt he is about to make, after an hour’s conversation he had April 27th with Sumner Welles to get the Administration to pledge itself to two or three principles essential to the future security of the Philippines after the Japanese are expelled. The first of this is the acceptance by the United States after the Philippine Republic is set up, of naval and air bases in the Islands; the ground forces of the air bases to be supplied by the Filipinos. Second, an appropriation of $600,000,000 by the United States to rehabilitate the Philippines, which Quezon thinks would repair all essential damage done by the Japanese and also allow the Filipinos to industrialize the Islands. Third, support by the United States Government of quota laws on immigration into the Philippines in order “to maintain our occidental, Christian civilization.” (This last, of course, refers to Chinese immigration.)

Quezon expressed his present determination to retire at the end of the two years term of his second presidency which will expire November 15, 1943. He gave very sound reasons why he is determined to observe the constitutional provision under which he was elected for a second term of two years, but I told him I did not believe the “United States Government” would allow him to do this. Roosevelt has the power to suspend the Philippine constitution and after his message to Quezon on Corregidor of December 28, 1941, promising “to redeem and protect the independence of the Philippines” had done little since to carry out this promise.

Quezon says MacArthur states that, if, after Pearl Harbor, the United States had delivered an all-out attack on the Japanese with the two task forces in the Pacific, which survived the Pearl Harbor disaster, plus sufficient naval forces then on duty in the Atlantic, Japan could have been defeated at that time.

Roosevelt had agreed, however, to all the propositions of Churchill, when the latter came to Washington about New Year of 1942, to concentrate the first efforts of America and Great Britain on Hitler. Hence the present “global strategy.”

While I was present with him, Quezon received visits from Generals Stilwell and Chennault and also from the Foreign Minister of Australia, Dr. Herbert V. Evatt. They all had received an unsatisfactory answer from Roosevelt as to sufficient aid to MacArthur.

All of this weighs with increasing depression upon the bright hopes with which Quezon came to the United States in May of 1942. It is breaking his spirit.

He is intensely interested in the pro-MacArthur wave of sentiment now flooding the United States. Says MacArthur will never consider his own candidacy for the presidency if he is given the weapons and men with which to attack Japan. MacArthur has demanded 500 bombers and 450,000 men; he proposes to skip over the Netherlands Indies and get to Mindanao with air-troop transports. If refused sufficient support, he might become a candidate for the presidency–especially if he has been made to appear a martyr.

Quezon had dinner three nights ago with J. Edgar Hoover and Senator Chandler of Kentucky, the leader of the “pro-Pacific War” group in the Senate. Quezon says J. Edgar Hoover is much of the same opinion as Chandler. During this account of his dinner with them, Quezon cheered up as talked of the wonderful Kentucky ham they had eaten–far superior he thought to any so-called “Virginia ham”!

Quezon says that Roosevelt is absolutely “sold” on the Chinese, but adds that he (Q.) would rather live under Japanese rule than under the Chinese, but detests the thought of either.

The speech for which Quezon had been preparing on “Bataan Day” (April 9, 1943) was stopped by Roosevelt who thought it undesirable to commemorate an American defeat. The ceremony was to have been under the auspices of the Treasury Department as a rally to sell war bonds. So, instead of this, Quezon went a week later to Hartford, Connecticut, and spoke at the meeting in honour of General Wainwright, now a prisoner of the Japanese. Wainwright is a Connecticut man.

I tendered Quezon two invitations to come to Charlottesville to speak, but he merely shook his head. One bid was from General Wickersham to address the School of Military Government and the other was from Dabney Welford, President of the Raven Society–Welford had told me he thought that 800 students would attend for such an occasion.

It seems doubtful whether Quezon will finish his book; I turned back to him some fifty typed pages of his account of his experiences on Corregidor with my pencilled notes on it. He expressed no desire to see it. I asked Trepp why Quezon had not wanted to complete his book at Miami and Trepp replied: “He has no mental discipline.”

Quezon said that when he came to Washington in the early summer of 1937 and asked the President for independence in 1938 or 1939, he told Roosevelt how the Japanese had approached him on various occasions asking for “neutralization” of the Philippines, which would have meant withdrawal of the United States forces in case of independence. Roosevelt refused to entertain this idea though expressing himself as in general favour of “neutralization.”

When Quezon first arrived with MacArthur on Christmas eve, 1941, at Corregidor, Quezon wired Roosevelt stating that it was already evident that the Philippines could not be successfully defended, and equally evident that no immediate relief from the United States was to be expected, therefore he requested Roosevelt to authorize him to approach both Roosevelt and the Japanese, asking that the armed forces of both be withdrawn from the Islands. It was in connection with that request that Roosevelt wired authorizing MacArthur to disband the Filipino Army if Quezon requested it, and at the same time wired Quezon that he pledged the entire resources in men and materials of the United States, so that the freedom of the Filipinos should be redeemed and their independence established and protected. This was the first time that the United States had ever agreed (tho only by presidential announcement) to protect their independence. It was on this basis that the battle of Bataan was fought–at least, so far as the important participation of the Philippine Army was concerned.

During all these years of political struggle for the independence of the Philippines neither Quezon nor I had ever considered a protectorate possible–nor that the United States would consent to it. Quezon says: “Nobody fought the American imperialists more constantly and vigorously than I did–but now I would prefer to have them there–so long as they let us have back what we had already gained, and allow us to make our own laws. They will never send another Governor General nor High Commissioner to the Philippines.”

Quezon said that in his visit to him the day before, Dr. Evatt, the Foreign Minister of Australia, was in a cold rage against the English. Evatt reacted to the coining of the tricky phrase “global strategy” just as I (F.B.H.) had done. Evatt said that when Australia was threatened with invasion by the Japanese, the English would not send back the Australian troops until after the battle of El Alamein, and then returned them with only the clothing in which they stood–not one item of equipment. Evatt was going directly to England to tell Churchill exactly how the Australian troops felt about it. From my own acquaintance with Evatt I have no doubt that he did just that.

Quezon did not believe the English will make much of an effort in the Far East after Hitler is beaten; he quoted Churchill’s recent address in which he stated that after victory over the Germans, England would partially demobilize. But, all the same, even if the English leave the job in the Pacific chiefly to the Americans, Quezon is, for the first time in his life, friendly to the English and would be willing to co-operate with them and with the United States in the projects for future security in the Pacific. This is something very new for Quezon, who has always detested the English imperialists. He has heard from me many times how the United States originally took over the Philippines at the instigation of England, and against President McKinley’s wishes, but as part of the balance of power, and to avoid a war in 1899 with Germany. Also how the English have always exerted secret pressure on the United States to hold the Philippines as a means of maintaining the balance of power.

Quezon told me at great length of his conversation on April 27, 1943, with Under Secretary of State Sumner Welles, which took a full hour, and in which they apparently reached complete agreement. Quezon began by reading to Welles a quotation from a recent address in which Welles had said: “It can never be made too clear nor reiterated too often, that the foreign policy of the people of the United States exactly like their domestic policies, should only be determined from the standpoint of what the American people believe is their real, their practical, self-interest. Our foreign policy must not be based upon emotional altruism or sentimental aspirations.”

Quezon then proceeded to show Welles what the practical self-interest of the United States in the Far East would be, Pearl Harbor has proven to be ineffective to protect United States strategy. The United States, he advises, should take all the mandated islands and make the Philippines their outpost in any plan of defense in the Pacific. Of course he (Q.) knew that he spoke only as a layman, and the General Staffs would have to decide all these plans. Welles interrupted to say that the United States could not take the mandated islands, since that would be contrary to their public professions. That the mandated islands would have to be under international ownership, but the Americans should administer them. With this Quezon agreed, remarking that from the point of view of what he had come to say, it would amount to the same thing.

Quezon then went on to develop his ideas to Welles, stating that a condition precedent to all further agreements should be that the Philippine Republic be recognized by the United States as soon as the Japanese were expelled from the Islands.

He then quoted Roosevelt’s cablegram to him in Corregidor that freedom would be regained and protected, etc.

Quezon finally stated that this was his own last year of office as President, that he had yielded last time to the demand for re-election, but only on the basis of two years more, when Osmeña could succeed him. He would not stultify the position he had then so publicly assumed, that Osmeña had been included on the ticket on his (Quezon’s) own insistence, for Osmeña was only leader of a minority of the Nacionalista party. He was determined to retire on December 31, 1943. He now asked that the United States come to an agreement on future plans for the Philippines and now wait for the end of the war, so that Quezon could retire in the knowledge that he had completed his program for the Philippines.

What he asked was:

(1)  That the United States accept airfields and naval bases in his country (Welles stated that the Army and Navy were in favour of that); that the Filipinos furnish the ground forces for the airfields, and pay their men insofar as they were able.

(2)  That the United States contribute $600,000,000 for the rehabilitation of the Philippines.

(3)  That the Philippine Republic be supported by the United States in maintaining the quota systems established for immigration by the Philippine Commonwealth, so that they could sustain and preserve their own form of civilization.

Welles said he was in agreement with all of these propositions, and if Quezon would write him a letter to that effect, he would present the matter to the President within a week.

Quezon commented to me that the sum he asked for rehabilitation would be sufficient, and would also allow them to industrialize, and that fifty years hence there would be 50,000,000 Filipinos, able to defend themselves.

March 12, 1943

Shoreham Hotel. Lunch with Mr. Canceran, private secretary to Quezon. Canceran much bothered by the President’s frequent changes of plan for his trip to Florida causing the utmost possible inconvenience to everybody around him. This is the usual performance, but none of them get really used to it, and all grumble as much as they dare. I asked Canceran how the President got that way? He replied: “It was his life in Malacañan–absolute authority; all opposition crushed–complete selfishness–thinks about nobody but himself.”

Canceran is a young man, son of a farmer in the Cagayan valley. He is tall, lithe and graceful. His chin is up, his shoulders thrown back. He would look equally as well in a G-string and necklace of cowrie shells, and with a spear in his hand instead of a pen. As it is, he contents himself with a suit of “Kollege-Kut Klassy Klothes,” and flirts with all the waitresses. As this is the only possible way to get served in an American restaurant, it must be admitted that he shows a good deal of practical sense. He possesses a measure of native dignity and good taste in his pride of country. He is not impressed by American movies.

I told Quezon about the School of Military Government at Charlottesville. He replied: “Not one of those–fellows will get to the Philippines. The President has assured me that the first man to land there will be President Quezon, arriving in an American battleship.”

Discussion of the Moro problem: Quezon pointed out the mistake of Americans in not letting the Sultan govern Jolo–that they would thereby have avoided all those disorders and little wars. The Americans whom he left last Spring in Mindanao made another mistake: the American Army officers have always believed that the Moros loved them and hated and despised the Filipinos. General Sharp (in command there) and his staff were making plans for the great aid the Moros would render in repelling the Japanese in Mindanao. Quezon said to Sharp: “That’s all very well, but for God’s sake don’t give them any guns.” The other day he was laughing over a report from MacArthur of questions put by one of his staff to an officer who had escaped from Mindanao–the staff officer was trying to bring forth an answer showing how the Moros loved the American Army, and asked what kind of people the Moros were killing now? “Oh! every kind–Americans, Filipinos and Japanese” was the answer. As a matter of fact they had recently assassinated three American Army officers.

I suspect that Quezon’s own policy toward the Moros is that of the American of past days in our own country. “The best indian is a dead indian.”

When Quezon, before the war, granted permission to 10,000 Jews to settle in the Philippines at the rate of 1,000 a year, the Jewish Committee picked out, as the best farming land–Lanao! Quezon says he refused this, since they wouldn’t be alive at the end of a year. Quezon tells me that Lanao has as many rich and wonderful Moro farms as has Jolo nowadays.

Quezon settled the question of the recent succession to the Sultanate of Jolo, by refusing to make the choice. The Government of North Borneo, a territory most of which is part of the Jolo Sultanate, wrote to him to enquire whom he now recognized as Sultan. He replied: “The Sultan is, for us, only the head of his Church–he will not meddle in the choice.” So the North Borneo Administration sent for the two candidates to come to Sandakan and present their claims–which they did. Datu Umbra, himself of the late Sultan, the royal blood, the husband of Princess Dayang-Dayang, niece of the late Sultan, was elected over the other claimant–a brother of the late Sultan.

This decision aroused two factions in Jolo, and greatly weakened their subsequent claim to the North Borneo lands. Some years later, the Chartered Company of North Borneo transferred “their” land, to Great Britain–but they had waited for this momentous action until six days after the inauguration of the Philippine Republic! Thus the Jolo Moros were dispossessed of their great inheritance in North Borneo!

The question of Quezon’s health is always to the fore, every day of his life. Even his American friends in the Philippines used to say that he used his illness as a means of avoiding unnecessary engagements or contingencies. Dr. Trepp tells me that so far as Quezon’s TB is concerned, that is perfectly in hand, and there is no reason why he should not live for years. As for his blood pressure, Trepp himself, who, not long ago had a heart attack, has a much higher blood pressure! Recently the President was urged to cut down on his food, and especially to avoid heavy meats. That regime lasted a few days, and then he claimed to be fading away so rapidly, and had become so feeble, he could hardly speak. At once, the family set up a terrible clamor that the doctors were killing him, and the regime was relaxed. It must have been a superb piece of acting. As it is now, he and his family, at least once a day, eat a Filipino dish reeking with fat, and with great lumps of pork, ham and sausage.

Every now and then, Trepp persuades Quezon to go out for a walk, which consists of creeping along the hotel corridors, doctor on one side and a.d.c. on the other, to his luxurious motor. They drive out to the suburbs and Quezon walks slowly for three or four hundred yards. Back home again, Quezon goes to work, or to receiving visitors to whom he talks for hours and hours–rounding off with four or five hours of concentration on bridge, until well after midnight.

Truly a remarkable “invalid”–he wears out all of his associates!

March 5, 1943

Shoreham.

Quezon wired for me to come here for ten days or so to help him finish his book, which he is determined to do, because, no doubt, of Warner Bros’ offer for the cinema rights.

Congratulated him on his Opera House (New York) address last Saturday, which he said had brought him many compliments.

Asked him about political conditions here–whether Roosevelt would seek a fourth term? He said, yes–if he thinks he can be elected, otherwise he will sacrifice Wallace or McNutt. That nobody could make a success of the first post-war presidency. The Republicans had no man in sight who could do it–the United States would be in for very hard times–whoever got in would be a one-term president. Then Roosevelt would try to get in again in 1948 when he would be only 68 years old. He thought the present trend in America was towards post-war isolationism, which would be disaster. The only two leading candidates who were surely not isolationist, are Roosevelt and Wilkie, and the latter was talking himself out of the nomination.

He then turned to the story of my nomination to the Philippines in 1913. He, as Resident Commissioner, had had an understanding that no nomination of a Governor General would be made without letting him know. But one day he read in a Washington evening paper that the nomination of Oscar T. Crosby, a West Pointer and an engineer for the New Jersey traction companies, was being considered. He went right to Tumulty and said he must see President Wilson. T. let him in with the agreement that he would take only three minutes. He asked Wilson if it was proper for him to express himself on a nomination of a Governor General? Wilson said “Yes.” “Mr. President, I have just read in an evening paper that Mr Oscar T. Crosby is being considered, is that a fact?” Wilson replied that it was. Then Quezon said: “The people of the Philippines will not feel that this is what they had expected of you.” “Why not?” “Because it says here that Mr. Crosby is a West Pointer, and that would mean to them that you were sending out a soldier to govern them with an iron hand; then it says that he is an engineer for the great traction interests–that would mean to the Filipinos that he was coming out there to advance American financial interests.” Mr Wilson replied: “That is interesting.” So Quezon went out and straight to the War Department where he told General Frank McIntyre that they had not kept their understanding with him, and that now he could tell them that they would not get their man nominated.

(It must have been shortly after this that I went to see the President at the request of my brother Fairfax, to advocate the nomination of Crosby. Wilson told me that he esteemed Mr. Crosby very much personally but that Crosby was connected with traction interests against which he had been fighting when Governor of New Jersey.)

Quezon then continued by stating that a few days after he had seen the President I came into his office at the request of my brother, to ask whether there was any hope for Crosby. He told me his objections and then said: “Why shouldn’t you get the nomination yourself?” I was somewhat taken aback and asked: “What makes you think I could get it?” He replied: “I don’t know, but I can try.” I asked him to wait a little for me to consider the matter and that anyway I did not want Crosby to believe that instead of advancing his cause, I had only been working for myself.

A few days later, I returned and said that if he found the idea acceptable he might go ahead. He went at once to Representative William A. Jones of Virginia, the Chairman of the House Committee on Insular Affairs and told him he had found the right man for Governor General. Jones expressed himself as much pleased with the idea so Quezon went on to Secretary of State Bryan’s office. He was diffident and rather uncertain in approaching the great man, but was at once admitted to his office. Bryan replied “why he’s the man who has been helping me to fight the reactionaries in the Ways and Means Committee in the tariff revision. I’ll go right into the President and put the matter before him.”

A day or two later my nomination went to the Senate and was confirmed the same day. Meanwhile Quezon had seen Senator Gilbert Hitchcock, Chairman of the Senate Committee on the Philippines, who was believed to be rather a “reactionary” but he agreed at once. Hitchcock, however, was believed to be opposed to Philippine independence.

Secretary of War Lindley M. Garrison, a leading conservative, was fortunately absent on a speaking tour in the West at this time, or else, with the backing of the War Department he might have blocked the nomination. He, like most of the Army officers, was opposed to the independence of the Philippines.

Next we talked over the strong anti-English sentiment in the United States today. I told him of my arguments with Gwathmey and Finley of the University of Virginia two days ago; that I was convinced that the heart of the so-called “democratic” movement in the world today was social: that it was rather a revolutionary struggle, not so much for political rights, as formerly, but a demand for social equality. He agreed, and said that it was rather dangerous to be pronouncedly in favour of the English in the United States today. That Roosevelt was aware of this and had told Lord Halifax so, but was sticking firmly by England. Quezon said that a large part of the dislike of England in the United States today arose from dislike of the Jews who were all-out to help England. Justice Felix Frankfurter had lost his commanding influence in Administration circles because of being so excessively pro-English. I recalled Colonel Lindberg’s Chicago address of August 1941 in which he stated that the principal influences which were pushing the United States into this war were: 1. The Roosevelt Administration; 2. The English; and 3. The Jews. For this, Lindberg was violently attacked in the press.

Quezon told of his own long-standing dislike of the English because of their arrogance in Asia; of how he had cursed them in Corregidor for their failures in Singapore and Hong Kong; how he had come to admire them as men, after Dunkirk and the battle of Egypt, and how the alliance between the United States and England now was the salvation of the whole world. He, himself, had given up for the present, all his own interests and plans for a Malay Federation, etc., and was concentrating only upon the interests of his own country. (This was the advice I so strongly urged upon him when I first joined him ten months ago on May 30, 1942.)

The recently (March, 1943) announced convention of the United Nations soon to be held to debate the world food problems, was originally the suggestion of Mr. Nash, the Minister of New Zealand, in the Pacific War Council. But, after a debate lasting two hours over the subject of wheat, in which the difference of viewpoint between those nations which produced wheat and those which bought it was apparently so sharp, the Council was going to abandon the idea of a convention of the United Nations as likely to serve only to show up the lack of unity among these “allies.” Then Quezon spoke in the War Council in favour of calling such a convention–he said it was quite right that the nations (U.S. and Gt. Britain) which were making the greatest effort in the war, and were spending their money should be the ones to direct the affairs of the United Nations. However it would be wise to allow the smaller countries an opportunity to present their own views. That would make them all feel that they were taking their share of decisions. It is potentially a strong movement to which attention must be paid. “Have the conference,” he said “not in Washington or New York, but in some quiet place like the Warm Springs, Virginia, where the delegates would be thrown into intimate association with one another and could discuss everything in private conversation. Roosevelt could address the conference on the subject of food, select a chairman and let the latter send everything placed before the Conference to Committees, to hear and consider and report later. Let there be no real debates before the conference to disclose or develop sharp differences of opinion, but let anyone discuss what he pleased, even though the ostensible purpose was only the food question.” Finally, these ideas were accepted by the whole Pacific War Council, and the project of a Conference of the United Nations was later announced by the President.

I commented on the loyalty of Roosevelt to his friends and supporters–how he immediately appointed to new posts those of his circle who had been defeated in the elections. Quezon commented: “I never did that.”

Excerpt from Quezon’s letter of March 4, 1943 to General MacArthur in Australia.

I gather from the reports to which 1 have referred above that some of our guerrillas are committing the same mistakes or abuses that were committed by our guerrillas during the fight against the Spaniards and later against the Americans. They are looting and maltreating, and, in some cases, killing Filipinos whom they suspect to be pro-Japanese. From every point of view that is wrong, moreover, it may be of serious consequences.

In the case of Peralta, he has even gone to the extent of criticizing me for not denouncing Vargas and his colleagues. The insolence of this man in attempting to give me a lecture regarding the history of the revolution in which I took part while he was still unborn or a baby, and on the psychology of the Filipino people, would be laughable if it did not betray his utter unfitness for the role that he is aspiring to play in the Philippines.

Not as an answer to Peralta, but only to make crystal clear my stand in this respect, I wish to remind you that even while we were in Corregidor, at a time when a policy of threat or condemnation might have had more effect than now, I studiously avoided saying anything that might give Vargas and the rest of the Filipinos who have now accepted positions under the Japanese Military Administration, the impression I have lost faith in them. The reason for my attitude is that I knew, and have not changed my opinion, that the Filipino can best be won by showing him confidence rather than distrust. Indeed, if threat and punishment would make a Filipino loyal, the whole country would now be pro-Japanese. In other words, I am of the opinion that if we want to keep the Filipinos on our side the commanders of the guerrillas must refrain from persecuting those who seem to be co-operating with the Japanese, unless they help the Japanese to discover the places where our guerrillas are hiding, or kill our men. Prager’s report shows that even our Constabulary and Philippine Army soldiers who are now serving in the Japanese organized police force are, in fact, loyal to us.

Long discourse today by Quezon illustrating his advantage in politics in the Philippines because he knew how to appeal directly to the tao instead of relying like most of the other politicos upon securing the support of the “leaders.” He illustrated this method by referring to General Sandiko’s successful appeal to the people in his province of Bulacan (during Governor Forbes’ administration) against an extra-legal Executive Order of the Governor General which Speaker Osmeña had obligingly ratified by passage through the Assembly.

His best story was of the campaign made by him against the all-powerful Godofredo Reyes of Sariaya, Tayabas, when Quezon was President of the Senate and in control of the Nacionalista party. He put up Primitivo San Augustin and, to the astonishment of all the leaders in Tayabas, San Augustin beat Reyes. Quezon had gone himself to open the campaign and had addressed crowds of taos appealing to them in speeches 1 hour to 1 ½ hours long not to let their caciques vote for them, but to exercise the right of suffrage like free men. This method won that election.

Discussion of the Church and of Masonry. Quezon thinks neither of them count much in Philippine politics–bishops always have been easy to beat, but less so since Filipinos have been ordained as bishops, and the parish priests are now almost exclusively native citizens.

Quezon always states that he became a Catholic again after his “daughters were grown,” but it really was in 1928 when “Baby” was about 7 and “Nini” was, say, 5. Quezon scorns the idea that this move benefited him politically. He explains he did it so that his daughters should not be “ashamed” of him. One can understand how Mrs. Quezon brought pressure on him upon this subject in the home life. In order to be readmitted to the Church, he had to renounce Masonry, since the Church will not tolerate any secret society and is especially violent against Masonry. Quezon argued with his father confessor against the prejudice in the Church against Masonry. The priest said: “Ah! you do not know–they don’t let you know what the real secret purpose of those in control of it cherish–they spit on the cross!” Quezon protested. “Do you know who I am–I am the Cardinal of the Masons–I almost might say their Pope! I am the Grand Master of the Blue Lodge.” But it was all to no effect–he had to give in.

Conversation with Mrs. Quezon on her voyage with Mrs, Buencamino to Java in 1936. The Dutch Government would pay her no direct courtesies because she came unofficially. The American Consul General in Batavia told her of all the precautions the Dutch Government had taken to prevent the Javanese leaders from meeting her. Two of the Javanese leaders, ladies who had been educated in Europe came to Mrs. Quezon’s hotel room after midnight and asked that the door be locked. Mrs. Quezon had already refused the room prepared for her so as to avoid the possibility of dictaphones. These two ladies begged her to help them towards independence. She said in reply that the Filipinos had succeeded because they were united under her husband (!). But the Javanese replied that they could do nothing to that end because they could not assemble to unite–the Government would not even allow more than two of them to meet together after dark.

The Japanese, she said, through their cheap and excellent shops in Java as well as through the excellent manners of their shopkeepers were making great headway with the Javanese.

The Dutch system of rotation of crops included also rotation of agriculturalists–so the native farmers never felt they owned any of the fields!

February 25, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon says that when he first came to Washington as Resident Commissioner he, like most Filipinos, believed that when they saw an American man and woman out driving together, whom they knew not to be married to one another, they were sexually intimate. This was the old Spanish idea. But when he got to Washington and made friends with American girls, he soon found out the truth as to our views on the sexes–he was delighted, and when he went back to the Philippines, he convinced them as to the real American situation in these matters.

This conversation arose from an amusing incident–he was at his desk writing a letter to a well-known Washington hostess–a widow, but still young. She had recently entertained him in her house at a diner a deux. This was the first and only time they had met, and she terrified him by stories of the spying of the various secret services which, apparently, has always gone on in Washington. She told how, during the last war, she had warned Bernard Baruch, then a most important official, that she knew there were six police dictaphones in “his” house. He thought the statement ridiculous, but went home, made a search and found six of them–two under his bed! He was so furious that he went at once to President Wilson and resigned his office. The President finally calmed him down. Well, this lady, in return for some orchids which Quezon had sent her after the dinner, wrote him a rather empresse letter–a little coy and pleasantly familiar. He was struggling with his English vocabulary in writing his reply and asked me to help him. I read his letter and told him that it wouldn’t do at all–his phrase: “I was to find that, as the Spanish say, you carry your heart in your hand”–I protested that it was dangerous for a statesman to write such a letter–if a third party found it, use might be made of it. He jumped as if he had been shot–he was only trying to be polite. He explained that the phrase above quoted meant in Spanish only “sincere” or “virtuous” but I again objected that in English “virtue” meant not the old Latin sense of the word, but only referred to sex! He was horrified, entirely rewrote the letter in uncompromising phrases and thanked me rather effusively for saving him. He made a great story for his family out of this!

Quezon, Andres Soriano, Secretary of Finance and myself in conversation. More talk on news from the Philippines, which comes from Colonel Peralta, chief of guerrillas in Panay, through MacArthur in Australia, from time to time, and also, in bits, from returned travelers like Consul Willoquet, etc.

George Vargas, altho head of the government commission under the Japanese is not trusted by them. He is always attended by Japanese “aide-de-camp” when he goes out; Japanese officers live in his house. His wife confessed to Willoquet who saw her alone, that they are not free agents.

Quezon thinks the Japanese have disposed of Manuel Roxas by a feigned airplane accident. Soriano thinks that they have taken him to Japan to hold as a hostage. When Quezon was in the tunnel at Corregidor, he thought he was dying, and wanted to go back to Malacañan. Roxas begged him not to do so. Later when the time came for Quezon to leave Corregidor to join to MacArthur in Australia (an event which was not then anticipated), Manuel Roxas begged him with tears in his eyes not to go from Corregidor. He exhorted him to “think of your fame.” Roxas followed Quezon to Dumaguete, and went with him to Mindanao, though he did not wish to leave Wainwright at Corregidor. Refused to leave Mindanao and joined General Sharp’s forces there. Sharp was ordered by Wainwright from Corregidor, when the latter fell, to surrender explaining that the Japanese would not give any terms to those on Corregidor unless all the military forces in the Islands also surrendered themselves. So, to save the men and women on Corregidor, Sharp and Roxas came in and gave themselves up to the nearest Japanese command. (NOTE–later–Roxas and Commander Worcester, U.S.N.R. fled to the mountains of Bukidnon). General Paulino Santos and Guingona, [who were not in the army, are in Mindanao. They have "gone over" to the Japanese.] Quezon says that Guingona was with him when Vargas’ co-operation with the Japanese was mentioned in Quezon’s presence, and, as Quezon says, when he heard no adverse comment upon Vargas’ action, being a “bright fellow” (Q.), Guingona followed suit. Quezon expressed a desire to know what Guingona had done with the four million pesos of Philippine currency he took to Mindanao to pay the army there–”if he kept it for himself…” I protested vigorously that nobody who knew Guingona could believe such a thing possible. Quezon agreed. “But,” I said “I have now heard you say twice that–if he kept it for himself.” Finally we agreed that he had probably burned the money, as his instructions required.

Soriano asked if he could bring the Spanish Cabinet Minister of War (Bergdorfer?), who is now in Washington, to call on Quezon tomorrow morning? Soriano said B. was an anti-Nazi, and had remarked that Quezon’s fame was now great in Spain. Quezon replied that he could squeeze in a half-hour for the call from B. “which should be long enough if I don’t start making speeches–which I always do!”

It appears that Justice Frank Murphy presented to Roosevelt the plan for the recent announcement that Roosevelt has already recognized the Philippines as possessing the attributes of an independent nation by putting Quezon on the Pacific War Council and asking him to sign the United Nations declaration. Murphy then told Roosevelt quite heatedly that he disapproved the decision to make Hitler the No. 1 enemy, and concentrate on him to the disadvantage of the Pacific area. Roosevelt took Murphy’s objections in good temper and told Murphy to “cool off.”

Somehow, the conversation turned back to Dr. Dominador Gomez. Quezon described him as a pure Malay type, but very big and a tremendous orator in the Spanish style, who swayed his audiences as he pleased. He had been a colonel in the Spanish Army. Was elected in 1907 as a delegate to the First Philippine Assembly. The election was declared void by the Assembly because there was no proof that Gomez was a Philippine citizen. Another election, and Gomez was returned by an even larger majority amid tumults and mob fighting. So they let him in!

When Quezon was Resident Commissioner in Washington he had occasion to make some uncomplimentary remark about Gomez. Quezon, traveling homewards, got to Shanghai on the steamer where he received a letter from Gomez challenging him to a duel. On arrival in Manila Quezon received a visit from the famous Colonel Blanco, also formerly a colonel in the Spanish Army in the Philippines and founder of the Macabebe Scouts, who appeared as Gomez’s second to challenge Quezon and asking who his second would be. Quezon replied: “I shall appoint no second. I do not wish to fight a duel with Dr. Gomez. But you may tell him this: ‘I give him leave to shoot me any time he sees me. Also tell him that any time he comes within one metre of me, I shall immediately shoot him.’” Shortly afterwards, Quezon attended a burial in Manila. With him were his cousin Miss Aurora Aragon–now Mrs. Quezon and Mary Buencamino. They knew about the challenge and were horrified to see Dominador Gomez standing near Quezon and all the more so since Gomez had his hand in his side pocket! Mrs. Buencamino slipped right behind Gomez and stood there to grab his arm, but Quezon pushed right in front of him to look down into the grave. Gomez drew out his hand from his pocket, but produced only a pocket handkerchief to mop his face!

Quezon then told of his marriage to Miss Aragon in Hong Kong in 1919. I (the present writer) was on the Ocean (Pacific) en route for New York when I received a radio from Quezon. “Married Hong Kong.” I went down to Dr. Oñate’s cabin to wake him, and demanded that he should tell me who Quezon had married. He was afraid to commit himself and it was a half-hour before I could get out of him the guess that it was Quezon’s cousin, Miss Aurora Aragon.

The marriage was secretly decided on when Quezon and Miss Aragon were in Hong Kong. Quezon sent his a.d.c. to the American Consul and requested that he should ask the Governor to waive the required 10 days residence, which was done. When the guests and the principals had met in rickshaws at the civil marriage bureau, Quezon turned to Luis Yancko and said: “Do you know why we are gathered here? I am going to be married right now!” Yancko’s mouth fell open with surprise and he stammered “but to whom?” Quezon replied: “To this young lady who stands beside me.” “But, but that’s impossible” said Yancko (meaning because they were within the degrees of relationship prohibited by the Church). “Impossible–how do you mean?” “Well” said Yancko “not impossible but improbable!”

Yancko gave them a beautiful wedding breakfast at the leading Hong Kong hotel.

At lunch today Mrs. Quezon and General Valdes were describing the discomforts of life in the tunnel at Corregidor. Mrs. Quezon got tired of waiting in line before support to get her shower, so she would wait until 2 a.m. and bathe then. Soon others discovered the way, and they began standing in line in the middle of the night. No curtain hung on the alcove which contained the shower. After the heavy bombings, the water main was broken, and for two weeks they had not only to bathe in salt water, but also to cook their rice and make their coffee in salt water, which entirely upset their stomachs.

Colonel Velasquez, a West Pointer, who was in the front lines at Bataan and Corregidor, was recently at the military school at Fort Benning, Georgia, where he says he made himself rather unpopular when the meals were discussed by saying: “Sometimes we may have to go hungry for a long time.” Velasquez told me he thought a campaign like that in Tunisia was necessary to harden the American troops, who were now overfed and thinking and talking all the time about their three big meals a day. He said he thought our American troops were pampered.

Quezon has started work again on his book. Has rewritten the foreword. Warner Bros have offered to make a film of it. Much talk with Bernstein about terms and arrangements. Quezon does not think that Morgan Shuster has been careful enough in editing the English of his ms. He evidently wishes to be thought letter-perfect in English. He says he now wants to finish the book–can’t do it in Washington–too many interruptions. Requests me to go off with him for 20-30 days and work with him on the book.

February 21-23, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Summary of events here during my two weeks of absence:

The letter Quezon was drafting when I left, in which he asked the President’s support for a joint resolution of Congress declaring the Philippines “are and of right ought to be free and independent” was never sent. Instead he saw the President just back from his trip to the Casablanca Conference. Result was that the State Department sent him a memorandum that the appointment of Quezon to the Pacific War Council and his being asked to sign the United Nations Declaration was the equivalent of recognition by the American President of the Philippines as an independent nation. Obviously, they decided that the proposed Congressional joint resolution would be ridiculed by the Japanese when they were in occupation of the Islands. Legally the President has no power to free the Islands while they are still–nominally, at least,–a possession of the United States. But Quezon seems to be satisfied with the decision. (At least, it is a suspension of the constitution of the Commonwealth, and as such, leaves Quezon in command as head of that State until further constitutional action is taken, and thus averts the succession of Osmena to the Presidency of the Commonwealth on November 15th next. This, I believe, the President of the United States has a legal right to do).

Quezon’s radio address given out by the Office of War Information on February 20th, dealing with the announcement of this decision, was really excellent.

In part he said:

“Assuming that tomorrow Japan was to declare the Philippines an independent nation, what would that mean? It would merely mean that the Philippines would be another ‘Manchukuo’–a government without rights, without powers, without authority. A government charged only with the duty to obey the dictates of the Japanese rulers. After the tragic end of Korea’s independence, in utter disregard of a solemn pledge to respect it, it would be worse than folly to rely on any promise by the Japanese Government. . . . President Roosevelt has, in effect, already given the Philippines recognition as an independent nation. On my arrival in Washington, he rendered me honours due only to the heads of independent governments. . . . He has recognized our right to take part in the Pacific War Council, with Great Britain, China, the Netherlands and the self-governing Dominions of Canada, Australia and New Zealand. The President of the United States himself presides over the Council table. . . . In the name of the Philippines, I am a signatory to the Atlantic Charter. We are one of the United Nations. Our independence is already a reality. . . .”

This was broadcast using short wave facilities of the Office of War Information for the Philippines and other parts of the world.

Quezon asked me to read over the papers in the proposed contract to film his book, which Warner Bros’ offer–Morgan Shuster advises him to get a “radio lawyer” to protect his interests, and points out that the form of contract only guarantees that the “basic story” shall be under his control; that it would thus be possible for the movie company to present Quezon’s personality and his life story in a manner derogatory to his dignity. Probably Shuster’s anxiety is well founded; no doubt he welcomes a prospect of getting Quezon to finish his book, but his first concern is to protect him.

Quezon’s comment to me was: “How could I sign the contract when I haven’t finished my book?” I told him Shuster could finish the small remaining part for him. He said: “No–I’ll do it myself.”

Quezon had accepted an invitation to speak on March 19th before the National Republican Club of New York. Now he proposes to go away to “California” for the purpose of “protecting his health”–he would thus break the engagement. I try to persuade him at all costs to keep this date–in view of the growing power of the Republican party, he could not afford for the sake of his country and of himself to break it. He should go there and try to capture the good will of those important men as he did that of the Maryland Bar Association. He seems firmly of the opinion that he can go away on a vacation–is this a result of, or possibly influenced by, his recent conversation with President Roosevelt?

Quezon showed me a letter he was drafting to MacArthur about the management of the guerrilla campaign in the Philippines which is charge of Lt. Col. Peralta. Quezon resented the General’s trying to appoint civilian, as well as military officials–such as Confesor as Governor of Iloilo. Tells MacArthur that the young flying hero Villamor is on his way out there, and should be entrusted with such affairs. That we must be careful not to treat those Filipinos who are co-operating with the Japanese as if they were traitors–that attitude might really make them so. Says that some of those who had entered the enemy’s service helped these two young American officers to get through the Japanese lines and escape in August. The guerrilla depredations on Filipinos living in the towns in the north must be stopped. Many of those who have accepted military service with the Japanese will later use the rifles given them now against the Japanese when we return. Laments the fate of Manuel Roxas in falling into the hands of the Japanese. If they have murdered him for refusal to accept free the Presidency (he refused three times) he adds “I do not know how many generations it will take for our race to produce another Manuel Roxas.” Recommends that Roxas be made a Major General by MacArthur. Says that “Chick” Parsons is the best man to keep the Filipinos in line–he is now on his way back there.

At luncheon Quezon told us he had just received a call from M. Willoquet, French Consul to Manila, who left there last June. He said the Japanese were trying to marry George Vargas’ daughter to one of their army officers.

More about Manuel Roxas. Quezon forbids Bernstein to make public the fact that Roxas is in the hands of the Japanese. If still alive he is being pressed by the Japanese to accept the presidency. To stir up news about him might only result in his death. If he had accepted their invitation to become President of an “independent” Philippines (under the Japanese) this might even now be an accomplished fact. If he persists in his refusal, “he has only done what I wanted him to do–show the Japanese we would have none of them.” Roxas was taken out in an airplane from Mindanao in November; nobody knows where he is now–probably in Fort Santiago. The Japanese have been rounding up schoolteachers who were not conforme and putting them in Fort Santiago, just as the Spanish did–they probably shoot them there.

Quezon announced that Isauro Gabaldon has just died, 74 years of age, and “ten years older than he ever let Sergio and me know–we never understood how his wife (a Tinio) could be so much older than he was.” Upon the death of Tinio, Gabaldon became the “boss” of Nueva Ecija–he ruled by popularity, but Tinio had governed by fear. “He (Gabaldon) split with me on making further terms with the Americans, short of independence, which he thought was guaranteed by the Jones Bill. I had to defeat him first for the Senate and then for the Assembly, but I never attacked him personally, and when I became President of the Commonwealth I went to him and made friends again. The Japanese broadcast his obituary as “one of the most distinguished of the Filipinos.”

Consul Willoquet, who was French Consul at Manila, and was put in prison by the Japanese for being a Gaulliste, was released on threats by de Gaulle of reprisals on the 4,000 Japanese, who are prisoners in North Africa. He says that whereas Vargas could get no favours from the Japanese such as release of a prisoner, it is evident that Aguinaldo is really “sold” to them.

Vargas’ recent speech of February, advising all guerrillas to surrender and come into camp, since they were only delaying the granting of independence, reminds Quezon and Osmeña of similar appeals made by Pardo de Tavera to the insurrectos in 1900, “when I was one of them.”

Willoquet, who saw de Gaulle in London, says the Free French are planning independence for Indo-China.

Office of War Information reports a Japanese broadcast from Manila calling a convention there of all provincial and municipal officials to be addressed first by Vargas and next by the Japanese spokesman. A three point programme: (1) Independence at earliest possible moment. (2) Economic rehabilitation. (3) “Cultural Questions”–such as cutting off completely from the previous regime.

Long discussion on India with Quezon, (Osmeña and Bernstein present). Quezon is considered an authority on this subject. P.M. says he is the man to send there to settle it all. Quezon thinks the Cripps Mission brought about some sort of an agreement with the Indian nationalists, but the Viceroy (Linlithgow) and General Wavell took no part in the discussions. “If Gandhi dies, we may expect a wide-scale revolt.” Quezon thinks the loss of India would finish off for good the whites in the Far East and destroy hope of restitution of the Philippines. That China will then be forces to submit to Japan, since she will be shut off for good. The question is: will the Indian army stand by the English?

It is understood that Roosevelt reads only the New York Times in the morning and P.M. in the afternoon.

January 29, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

The newspapers this morning gave Premier Hideki Tojo’s speech of yesterday to the Diet in Tokyo in which he promised independence to Burma. He also said: “The people of the Philippines deserve independence, because they understand Japan’s real aims and are ready to collaborate. . . . It is encouraging to observe an ever increasing movement among Filipinos for collaboration with Nippon.

I called this to Quezon’s attention and he was much disturbed. His own letter to President Roosevelt on the subject of “independence now” was dated January 25, but has not yet been sent; it is understood that the Executive branch of the government, except the Department of State, is in favour of a joint resolution by Congress stating that the “Philippines are and of right ought to be independent.” The Secretary of State (Hull) is also in favour of this, but he has little or no influence in his Department. The “permanent officials” headed by Dr Stanley K. Hornbeck are disposed to have no step taken in that direction until after the war and after it can be seen what the situation really is in the Far East.

After reading Tojo’s statement to the Diet, and a subsequent declaration by George Vargas expressing his readiness to accept “independence with honour” as already twice promised by the Japanese, Quezon was galvanized into immediate activity. I told him he should see Roosevelt at once and press the matter for all he is worth. Vargas’ statement as interpreted by Quezon shows that Tojo’s “independence” will not become a reality “for three months yet” and he, Quezon, must go into action in order to get the United States grant of independence first.

He said that the masses of the Filipino people would accept Tojo’s independence eagerly; that the leaders would know that this sort of “independence” would not be worth having, but would fall in line all the same. “This would be a very serious matter to my people–and to myself” he honestly added. After a pause Quezon continued: “When the United States gets back to the Philippines they will then have to fight not only the Japanese, but the Filipinos, as well, and I would be more likely to fall to a Filipino bullet than I was likely to be shot by the Japanese during the battle of Bataan.”

He had told us yesterday at Commissioner Elizalde’s luncheon, at which we gave him our official Mont Tremblant report, that the Japanese in the Philippines had already given to the small farmers of the Philippines land on which they lived and worked “a measure we will have to allow to stand when we regain our country, even if we have to recompense the landed proprietors.”

Altogether it looks to me as if the Japanese were “outsmarting” us in political warfare. It reminds me of what I told Professor Robert Gooch, in Charlottesville, 13 months ago when Churchill came to Washington and the “global” war was decided on, which meant simply “go for Hitler and abandon the Pacific until later.” I then said to him that if they are completely abandoned now, you may later have the Filipinos as well as the Japanese against you in the end.

Quezon’s draft of a letter to Roosevelt stresses three points:

(1)  the proclamation of Philippine independence and the recognition of the Philippine Republic by the Japanese.

(2)  the rehabilitation and development of the Philippine economy.

(3)  the guarantee of the future military security, political integrity and economic progress of the Philippines.

“It would be both wise and proper to proclaim Philippine independence now, rather than wait until 1946.”

He recommends the passage of a joint resolution by Congress advancing the date for independence to April 9th (the anniversary of the fall of Bataan) or the 4th of July, 1943.

This would be a “shot heard round the world” he urges–the most telling psychological blow that could now be delivered in opening the “Battle for the Far East.”

“A further and very important consideration is the possibility that Japan may, at any time, proclaim Philippine independence and establish a puppet state there. If this should happen” he urged, “before America recognizes Philippine independence, Japan will have gone far toward making the United States a laughing stock or a mere opportunist in the Far East.” (He should modify this language… in the recent abrogation of the extraterritoriality treaties. Axis propaganda hammered at the theme that this was “a plagiarism of the magnificent gesture of the Japanese”).

…In exchange for a guarantee of military security the Philippines will offer to the United States:

“The use under a generous lease of strategic air and naval bases which will act as the center of America’s power for peace in the Far East” and… “all the trained and proven Filipino man power needed to man these bases.”

…The assistance of the Filipino armed forces, etc.

January 26-27, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon is offered $1,000 a lecture for ten meetings by Getts, a lecture promoter, who came to lunch with his wife, the former Osa Johnson, widow of Martin Johnson the big game photographer.

Quezon expressed himself as in favour of a balance of power in the Far East–that Japan should not be so crushed that China may arise in her place as the would-be dictator of the Orient.

He said that Churchill and Roosevelt could not get Stalin to come to Casablanca–he did not wish to be tied up to them as he is playing his own game and intends to go to Berlin alone and then arrange his own empire; that Churchill and Roosevelt did not want Chiang Kai-shek at Casablanca.

Quezon maintained that the Ilongots in his youth were free-for-all head-hunters. I remarked that they had killed very few Americans–only two whom I remembered, while the Spanish in their day simply didn’t dare to go into their country. Quezon replied that during the first revolution against Spain, the Filipinos got hold of a lot of firearms, and they tamed the Ilongots who could not stand up to a shotgun when armed themselves with only their spears and arrows. Like most of the Filipinos who lived in Baler, his native village, Quezon has Ilongot blood through his mother.

January 20, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon and Nieto back from an hour with J. Edgar Hoover, Chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation ever since Coolidge’s day. He has a small office at the end of a long narrow room like a corridor–visitors are visible for a long while as they approach him–rather like Mussolini’s arrangements for those whom he receives. Hoover, he says, is a very fine man and intensely patriotic–is against all forms of “isms,” but more especially is opposed to communism, which he detests.

At luncheon, we met Mr. Sinclair, newspaper publisher from Oregon and on the staff of an office which apportions for the government the newsprint to the newspapers. Says this paper is useful also for explosives (nitrates) and for containers. Present shortage will increase. They do not advise the papers to cut down on advertising, but leave them to arrange their own space. Advertising however is bound soon to diminish, since motors, radios, etc., no longer are being made for the public.

At lunch Sinclair questioned President Quezon on two main subjects:

(a)  Were they always aware of their danger from Japan? Quezon said: “No! Only aware during a year or so before the Japanese struck.”

(b)  Could an independent Philippines survive economically? Quezon said: “Yes, the loss or partial loss of the American market would affect the Philippine Government only temporarily or until readjustments were made. The great mass of the people would not be much affected in any case. The United States would need 600,000 tons of sugar from the Philippines even after absorbing their own sugar production and that of Cuba and Hawaii; in other respects, Philippine trade might increase in new channels. Trade modifications under an American law of independence for the Philippines was to be expected.”

The Philippines are necessary to the United States as a foothold, or outpost, especially in aviation, etc.

January 18, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Morning at Elizalde’s office, discussing with him, Ugarte and Zafra preparation of our official report on the recent international conference at Mont Tremblant.

Also talk with Elizalde on the subject of Bernstein–he was very much upset because they already had a budget for that office of $150,000–and no Filipinos were on the staff, except a recently appointed librarian. Says that Quezon has had no publicity since Bernstein took over two months ago. Cited his Saturday night speech in Baltimore which did not appear in the papers. The fact was, however, as Quezon told me, that he did not deliver his speech as prepared because he looked over the audience of the Maryland Bar Association, and listened to their dull chairman, and decided they needed a stronger and more personal address than he had prepared. He added that it was the “toughest looking” audience he ever faced, so he started off “on his own” and gave it to them “hot from the griddle.” I am told he had them applauding wildly and won rather an ovation.

At lunch with Quezon, Mr. and Mrs. Andres Soriano, and two important Pacific Coast magnates with their wives decked out in valuable furs and new gowns. Quezon began by looking very tired, speaking slowly and reaching for his words in English. As he warmed up, he showed at his very best. Described the lunch of the day before at which he had entertained Mr. and Mrs. Henry Luce. Mrs. Luce is not enjoying her first days in Congress–the new member is usually treated with little consideration by the House. She could not get on the Committee on Foreign Affairs, etc. Quezon was much relieved to find that Mrs. Luce, who had been so very active in the propaganda for China, was now not in favour of entirely overthrowing the balance of power in Asia and of leaving Japan (as well as the rest of her neighbours) at the mercy of China.

Quezon had told her his plans for a joint resolution of Congress declaring the independence of the Philippines when a plebiscite of the Filipinos should accept it. When she asked whether an independent Philippines would grant commercial airports to the United States, he said “not only commercial, but military” she professed herself delighted and said she was entirely in favour of the resolution. (N.B. This morning Elizalde had expressed serious doubts whether Congress will pass such a resolution, and said it would meet opposition in the State Department until the general situation in the Far East becomes clearer.)

Then Quezon talked of his respect and regard for Congress, and denounced last summer’s smear campaign against it. “If a member of the House was a fool” he said “that only means that his constituents likewise were fools.”

He told again, and told well, the story of his last address to the students of the University of the Philippines one week before the Japanese struck.

One of the guests present today was a California contractor who had been employed by the Navy a year before Pearl Harbor to extend Cavite airport and other posts in the Pacific islands. Quezon told him how A. D. Williams disputed with the Navy over the extension of Cavite airfield and urged that extra fields, well camouflaged, should be constructed instead. But both Navy and Army authorities refused to listen to him.

I spent Monday morning and all day Tuesday in Elizalde’s office, working with him, Rotor, Ugarte and Zafra on the preparation of our formal report as delegates to the Institute of Pacific Relations last month at Mont Tremblant, Quebec. Very interesting discussions and really entertaining.

When we were alone, I asked Elizalde, whether he had read Romulo’s book, I saw the Fall of the Philippines. He said: “Yes, I read it twice–it is bunk.” I inquired what it was that Quezon had objected to–he replied: “First because he put MacArthur ahead of Quezon all the time, and then because he had put in a full list of the persons whom Quezon took with him to safety from Corregidor; such people as Valdes, Major (Dr.) Cruz, Ah Dong, his personal servant, etc.” Elizalde says he left more important persons behind–should have ordered Manuel Roxas to come to Australia with him instead of consenting to his staying behind; that Romulo was obliged to have the book recast and to pay $1,800 to the publishers for resetting, renumbering the pages etc. This came out of his first payment of $2,500. That the blackouts in the book were really at the instance of the War Department; they were left in the book to add importance to it. Romulo has sold already 25,000 copies–will probably get $20,000 out of the book.

In the Philippine Government circles I find general anxiety over probably future aggressions by Russia and China. Many stories of Russian plundering of the elite in the part of Poland which they annexed.

Quezon is still planning to go in about two weeks to Phoenix, Arizona, and invites me to accompany him for a couple of weeks. Intends to stay there a month or six weeks. I wonder?

January 9-10, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon very friendly and gracious–perhaps making up for the incident of the week before, when, knowing that I was coming from Charlottesville on his request, he let me make the journey without sending me word that he was going to New York! Dr. Trepp says this is characteristic–that he often shows no consideration whatever, especially when he changes his own plans! Trepp does not know whether Quezon will really go to Arizona–his health would do equally well in Washington. Was under the weather in New York. His family spent the time in shopping, theatres and the opera; Quezon stayed only in his apartments in the Waldorf-Astoria. Had one visit each from Roy Howard and Morgan Shuster.

Quezon has on his desk a bound notebook containing the proof sheets of his (unfinished) book. Took it up for 15 minutes with me, and got me to write an additional page concerning his childhood at Baler, and then started our bridge game which lasted the rest of the afternoon and until one o’clock in the morning–”wild cat” bridge, in the Filipino fashion, with precious little of partnership in it.

The next day I was with him to receive David Bernstein, his new “Special Services” (i.e., advertising) man. Bernstein is full of clever schemes for publicity over the radio and movies. Quezon conveyed to him his decision to drop the “free India” and “free Indonesia” issues for the present. Said he had been with Harry Hopkins this morning communicating to him the same decision. (Harry Hopkins probably let Lord Halifax know this at once–thus removing a cause of irritation if not worse!) Told Hopkins he must concentrate on the affairs of his own people, and was beginning to prepare his plans for the Joint Resolution for Independence. Bernstein commented that this would be a very powerful weapon of psychological warfare; also conveyed a request of Time for a reply to an article from Buenos Aires–German sponsored propaganda purporting to come via Japan from the Philippines, in which eulogistic descriptions were given of the present peace and contentment in the Philippines. Quezon dictated a brief response quoting General Tanaka’s recent report on his tour of the Philippines, in which the situation of public order was described as “not very satisfactory.” Quezon added that naturally it was not satisfactory to the Japanese since the Filipinos were still fighting vigorously. They had tasted freedom such as the Japanese themselves had never known at home and did not mean to give it up.

Bernstein then presented the question of a movie drama in Hollywood, now in course of preparation, showing an American nurse and an American officer’s adventures on Bataan. A Filipino doctor had been proposed, and Romulo considered it, and insisted that he should appear as himself! Quezon said quietly that Romulo did not look sufficiently like a Filipino–was more like a Chinese. Proponed Dr Diño, his personal physician instead–said he was a real Malay type and also had had previous experience of acting.

Knowing as I did, from another source, of the terrific row Romulo and Quezon had recently had over Romulo’s book I saw the Fall of the Philippines, I was somewhat diverted by this calm discussion. Quezon had been so angry with Romulo that he had told him, “to get the hell out of here, and never come back” and had deprived him of his uniform as a Lieutenant Colonel of the Philippine Army when he was on the lecture platform.

Quezon takes an especial pleasure in spending money, due, no doubt, to his cramped childhood in Baler. He remarked that he had paid the Shoreham Hotel $20,000 (Trepp says it was $60,000–he had seen the bills) this year for redecorating the suite he and his family occupy! This sort of thing, in my opinion, constitutes a political danger of considerable menace. Then Bernstein took up with him the idea that Quezon’s own life should be the story of a Hollywood film. Some tentative discussion on this. If he had published his book, the film could be based on that. Personally, I dread the vulgarizing of this whole chapter of Philippine history by those fellows in Hollywood.

Long discussion between Quezon, Secretary of Finance Andres Soriano, Foley, head of New York branch of Philippine National Bank, and the Auditor General Jaime Hernandez. The National City Bank of New York asks payment of 200,000 pesos turned over December 27, 1941, while Manila was being bombed, to the Insular Treasurer for transmission by telegraphic transfer to New York. The National City Bank holds a microfilm of the Insular Treasurer’s receipt, but nobody knows what happened to the original since the destruction of part of the Intendencia building by Japanese bombs. Auditor Hernandez opposed the payment now, in view of the uncertainty as to the facts. Quezon upheld him and seemed justly proud of the character and independence of his Filipino auditor.

Quezon gave me several stories from the inside talk of the United States Supreme Court, which he gets from Justice Murphy and Justice Frankfurter; incidents illustrating the very high esteem in which the Filipinos are now held in America.

January 7-8, 1943

Shoreham Hotel.

Arrived in answer to a telegram asking me to come as soon as I could. Quezon was looking very well and in good spirits. Told me he was going down to Arizona in about two weeks and “if he hadn’t finished his by that time he wanted me to accompany him for ten days or so.” No signs here of any work on his book. Dr. Trepp insists he had not worked on it “for months.” Elizalde told me en route to Canada that Bernstein was writing Quezon’s book for him; that he heard Quezon direct Canceran to turn over the ms. to Bernstein. Trepp thinks not. I asked Trepp why Quezon had so entirely neglected my draft of his book; Trepp did not know–thought possibly it had not been sufficiently eulogistic!

Quezon had seen Panikkar, the Indian, whom I met at Mont Tremblant. Had been very deeply interested. Panikkar told him the Indians want independence–not Dominion Status; that the Moslems also want it, though they demand safeguards as a minority. Quezon suggested to him the federal system like the United States, with a lower house representation based on population, and the upper house giving equality to states. Panikkar replied that is what they propose to do. That they must retain all of Occidental influence they now have and not just lapse into their former Oriental luxury and magnificence. England is afraid to let go just now–the Indian army is chiefly one of professional soldiers, and could easily turn against England if things went badly.

But Quezon told me he had abandoned all idea of taking any hand in the freeing of India and of Indonesia and in the forming of an Indonesian Empire, made up of a union of the Philippines and the Netherlands Indies. He had decided to concentrate entirely on the problems of his own people, though he would be “the happiest man in the world” if the other projects became a reality. Said it would take fifty years for an Indonesian Empire to become strong enough to withstand China or Japan. He had told President Roosevelt of his decision to concentrate on the problems of his own country and not take part in the other schemes, and that this statement “made Roosevelt jump.” He added that the good will or support of Great Britain as well as of the United States would be needed in either eventuality. Thought Hong Kong should not be given back to China, but that the English should pay China the value of the barren island as it was when ceded to them, because of the disgraceful circumstances in which they got it.

Panikkar told Quezon that the Burmese were going to fight on the side of Japan!

Quezon is now going to try to get through Congress a joint resolution that the Philippines are and of right should be independent, etc.

I spoke of my distaste for the masochism of Gandhi and Nehru–always in prison and seeming to glory in it; Quezon said: “It’s that Hindu philosophy.”

He recognizes that the English are essentially a manly race, but they have “that racial superiority which I hate. I am a member of a race which has been looked down upon for centuries, and I can’t stand that theory of racial inferiority. But their feeling of superiority is not vanity–they really believe it–hence their feeling of responsibility which is so marked not only in officials, but in businessmen and bankers as well.”

I also had a talk with Dr Trepp, his Swiss doctor. Says Quezon does not really need him now; his TB is so well under control, he can live anywhere he likes. Says he feels like a mere lackey of Quezon; there is no real work for him to do. Would like to get a job on the staff of a sanitorium. Has come to the conclusion that Switzerland is the only real democracy he knows. There is not an ounce of democracy in the Philippines–even a businessman there has no chance unless he is a Quezon man.

I also had a short chat with Quezon on past events in the Philippines. He said Governor General Luke Wright was all right, but his influence was impaired by the very anti-Filipino attitude of his wife.

Told me how he had taken Sumulong, Rodriguez, etc., away from General Wood, and then the latter threw up his hands. Quezon organized a Supreme Council of the Philippines and gave the pro-Wood Filipinos an equal representation on it with his own partisans. He, Quezon, presided but had no vote–still they all followed him obediently and without a question.

Dr. Pardo Tavera, a distinguished member of the first Philippine Commission, was patriotically against independence; he wanted the United States to remain there for the sake of the Philippines. Still, he was so independent-minded himself that he continually opposed the Governor General and really forced himself out of the Philippine Commission.

December 15, 1942

On my own return from the two weeks session of the Institute of Pacific Relations at Mont Tremblant, Quebec, I reported to Quezon at the Shoreham. He was deeply interested. Said the terms of the proposed settlement by Holland of the Indonesian question didn’t really matter–the Indonesians could get rid of the Dutch any time they wanted. Remarked that there was a percentage of truth in the English claims that they always had a policy of preparing their colonies for self-government. He thought that a Dominion Status for the Philippines might be the outcome of this world situation. Expressed apprehension over the Chinese attitude on emigration and their general aggressiveness.

December 3, 1942

I was sent by President Quezon from Washington as a member of the Philippine delegation to the Eighth Conference of the Institute of Pacific Relations at Mont Tremblant Lodge, Mont Tremblant, Province of Quebec.

On the train, I shared a compartment with Resident Commissioner J. M. Elizalde and was vastly entertained by his account of “palace politics” in the entourage of President Quezon. “Mike” and I talked so late that we overslept in our compartment and were carried on to the wrong station in Montreal; without any breakfast we had to take a taxi in the frozen slush for four miles to catch the little one-horse single-track train northwards. On the train, crammed in like “sardines in a tin,” we went through an endurance test for five hours at ten miles an hour, up snowy hills.

These physical discomforts are mentioned to show how thoroughly the management of the Institute of Pacific Relations carried out their agreement with the governments represented at the conference that absolutely no newspaper reporters should attend. I believe this understanding was rigorously carried out.

My account of the proceedings which follows is exactly as it was written in pencil upon yellow paper at the time. This is mentioned to excuse the informal and perhaps indiscreet nature of the communication.

On the little train, a relic, I suppose of the seventies, I sat next to an Indian, whom I later found to be head of their delegation. Sir A. Ramaswami Mudaliar. Told him he was the first Indian gentleman I had ever met–when I was in his country the Government of India had taken jolly good care that I should meet no Indians. He smiled. Told me he had lunched recently with King George; was frequently in England–member of British War Cabinet etc.; but always delighted to get over to France where there was no colour line and he could have a nice long talk with anybody he chanced to run across. I asked him whether the trouble in India was not largely social? He assented. Whether it had not been much worse since the English had brought their ladies over with then? Answered “yes.” To my question whether Churchill would last after the war, he replied: “Not one day!”

At Mont Tremblant Station, we got into a sleigh with a mixed bag of foreigners. Driving up to the Lodge I observed that when I was younger I used to come to this region at this same season to hunt caribou. The man opposite asked me if the caribou were still here? “Yes,” I replied “some of those I shot at certainly are.”

On arrival at the Lodge, found ourselves parcelled out in various little chalets–bare walls–typical skiing resort–one bathroom per chalet–standing in line to shave and to get to W.C. Picturesque but d-d uncomfortable.

Dr Jessup (Philip C.), the Chairman of the Pacific Council sent for me and told me that rules of the Institute did not allow one not native-born to be part of a delegation–asked me if I would not be willing to sit as a member of the United States delegation. I replied: “No–because I haven’t been invited.” He said: “I invite you.” So I said I should be equally happy on either delegation. That left the Philippine delegation to consist of Resident Commissioner J. M. Elizalde, Arturo B. Rotor, Secretary to the President of the Philippines, Urbano A. Zafra, Commercial Adviser to Resident Commissioner of the Philippines, and Sebastian Ugarte, a Basque mestizo, Legal Adviser to the Resident Commissioner–who was secretary of the delegation. We all sat together at the table for meals, and were usually joined by Chinese, a Siamese, Indians, a Korean, etc., and Dr. Ralph Bunche, an intelligent and agreeable American Negro.

English was the tongue of all the meetings. I only had to talk French with the delegate from France, Professor Paul Rivet, formerly head of the Musee de I’homme in Paris–now head of the Ethnological Institute of Columbia in Bogota, whence he had come by plane. He is noted for his ability to distinguish racial traits by studying one’s head and face. I asked him to diagnose me–he took one look and said “purement anglais.” (I have often read his article on ethnology).

There were more than one hundred delegates present from 13 different countries, vizt.: Australia, Canada, China, Fighting France, India, Korea, Netherlands, Netherlands Indies, New Zealand, Philippines, Thailand, United Kingdom and United States. To these must be added an international secretariat of at least fifty more–many of whom sat as delegates at the round tables.

The Institute meets every three years. Heretofore, government officials have been banned. This time, nearly all those present were connected in some way or other with governments in esse or in exile. This added a grim note of reality to the discussions which, I believe, are usually conducted by professors of one sort or another. Instead of a research committee of philanthropists, it had become a political meeting, pure if not simple. In fact, the round tables and even the plenary sessions sometimes broke out into all-out verbal wrestling matches, with no holds barred.

The main theme of the conference was whether the “Atlantic Charter” applied to all the world, or whether it was meant only for Europe. Roosevelt and Willkie had maintained recently that those principles of self-determination must apply to all the world. Winston Churchill, on the other hand, had not long ago announced in a speech at Mansion House that “what we have we hold,” and “I did not become Prime Minister of the British Empire to preside over the liquidation of that Empire.” On no occasion in any of the numerous meetings did anybody, even on the U.K. delegation defend Churchill’s speech. In fact, it caused them acute embarrassment. Some even made futile attempts to explain it didn’t mean what it clearly did mean. The Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and many of the Americans barked like the seals on the Golden Gate ledges outside San Francisco. Walter Nash, the vice premier of New Zealand, barked loudest and angriest of all. In vain did such delegates as Arthur Creech Jones, Labour member of Parliament, (and parliamentary secretary to Ernest Bevin, Minister of Labour) and Captain D. Gammans, Conservative member of the British Parliament, protest that nobody in Parliament would dream of interpreting the Atlantic Charter as inapplicable to any part of the world–especially Asia!

There stood the vision of the robust figure of Winston Churchill, their Prime Minister, and he was not to be pushed behind the curtain any more than was the Statue of Liberty–rather less so, if anything. So at the end of ten days the English delegation looked like a lot of hens after a raid on the coop–feathers ruffled and the picture of dejection. Sir John Pratt almost in tears.

In this chorus of barking seals I was impressed by the conviction that the assemblage was making the English pay for many generations of arrogance and condescension towards colonials. The Canadians in all this were clearly without any sense of responsibility. All that they were determined to accomplish was to be able to go before their voters and be free from the reproach of “fighting to save the British Empire.”

The Australians did not enjoy quite such supreme self-confidence. For them to help drive the European powers out of Asia was to let down the barricades between themselves and the Asiatics. Neither the Australians nor the New Zealanders really understand that they are Asiatic powers–they are still thinking in terms of the British homeland.

The Dutchmen present were obviously under the wing of the English–one thought of the Royal Dutch-Shell oil alliance. They had come there with two puppet Javanese who were utterly unable to express themselves–one was head of their delegation. They supported the English in everything. Meant to keep as inconspicuous as possible, but we smoked them out from under their leaf. They were forced to produce in the middle of the conference a statement by Queen Wilhelmina promising after the war to give the Netherlands Indies equal partnership with Holland. Her statement was wreathed in Royal Phraseology as to be practically unintelligible to the rest of us. It appears the Dutch Viceroy may be obliged to have his powers somewhat curtailed. No racial discrimination henceforth. Vague references to general elections which are evidently expected to take some time to organize. It appears that Queen Wilhelmina made practically the same commitments in her address before the United States Senate several months ago. When Lord Hailey, who was the chairman of our round table at which such topics were discussed on the second day of the conference, came to the subject of the Netherlands Indies, he was for slipping the subject along the table until perhaps it might fall into a convenient scrap basket. When challenged, some Dutch member present ventured some vague reference to an important announcement about to be made on the matter–I kept insisting that some disclosure as to the nature of this announcement be made during the conference and that we be given the privilege of debating it. At a later round table, my next-door neighbour, Mr G.H.C. Hart, Chairman of the Board of Commissioners for the Netherlands Indies, Curacao and Surinam showed me a long rather obscure telegram from his Government-in-Exile, explaining (?) the scheme; he also had included in the mimeographed reports to the conference a further statement. He seemed convinced that “language is given us to conceal our thoughts.” The Dutch Prime Minister had sent this to him, and it consisted of long passages of “double talk”–in the midst of this jungle of words I detected a statement that “The Queen thinks that perhaps the powers of the Governor General may have to be reduced”!

On my return to Washington, I made an especial (verbal) report to President Quezon on this situation. It is a subject in which he is most particularly interested. For some years, underground conferences between him and “leaders” of the Javanese (who are erroneously supposed to be completely docile–like the two hand-picked specimens the Dutch brought with them to Mont Tremblant). They seem to have some sort of a vague ambition to recreate the old Malay Empire of long ago–to include the Netherlands Indies and the Philippines and parts of British North Borneo.

Quezon did not seem much impressed by the determination of the Dutch to hold on to their rich empire. His comment was that the last time he talked to the Javanese leaders a few years ago, they were all pro-Japanese. He told them this was a very great mistake; for while they could get rid of the Dutch any time they tried, they would never of their own efforts, get rid of the Japanese, once the latter were established in the East Indies.

Except for the brilliant Professor Rivet, who spoke like a brave and vigorous man, the other three “Fighting French” delegates had absolutely nothing to say. They were like three white rabbits. If cornered, they pretended not to “spik English.” They gave the impression of knowing absolutely nothing whatever about the topics under discussion. As a matter of fact I think they were struck dumb by all this talk of giving any power back to any “natives”–they had never heard of such a thing–much less done it. If too much was demanded in their colonies, their custom has been just to shoot a few hundred of them, and not write home about it. They consider that the abolishing of the colour line socially, which is their specialty, is all the “natives” want.

When Indo-China was reached in the geographical review which occupied our first round table, there was a spattering of talk about the border dispute between Thailand and Cambodia. The chairman was about to pass on to fresh fields and pastures new, but I insisted on pointing out that there was a very great deal more to Indo-China than what had been said. The Annamites covered the larger past of Annam and Tonkin and they had a Long history of self-government behind them until very recently. The Free French delegate present preserved his mask of immobility. In answer to a question he stated that the French Government General was still functioning in Indo-china, but was very restricted in its powers by the Japanese. M. Baudet was being either unnecessarily secretive, or else was too depressed to care much anyway.

At a later round table, one of the French present admitted that he understood the implications of the Atlantic Charter and that they were ready to apply them. I wonder? There was no use in badgering these poor fellows–they will probably have been forgotten long before one of the multi-coloured French parties emerges as a stable leader. Anyway, were we Americans not bound by our government’s reiterated promises that the French Empire would be restored intact to France? It was only the British Empire that some of our delegates, together with all the Canadians and some of the Australians, were out to disrupt. Walter Nash, the vice premier of New Zealand, was the loudest and easily the most offensive leader of these battling reformers. So far as one could think amidst this shouting and tumult, the principal war aim of the “Allied Nations” was to strip our principal ally of its empire.

The American delegation, some 36 strong, held but two caucuses. The first was opened by a voice on my right, coming so far as I could judge from Mr. Len de Caux, the publicity director of the C.I.O. and editor of the C.I.O. News. He is an educated man of considerable refinement. He started the proceedings by announcing in a clear voice: “We are going to fight to preserve the British Empire.” To my surprise, the chairman, Dr. Jessup, asked for a show of hands on that point, and nearly half of those present voted for the proposition. Then we adjourned!

The most ardent American abolitionist of colonies, however, seems to have been Edwin R. Embree, President of the Justice Rosenwald Fund of Chicago and Vice President of the Division of Human Biology, Rockefeller Foundation. He was reported to have opened the ball at his round table with the “all-out” statement: “I’m for doing away with all colonial governments.” This clear but all-too-sweeping statement exposed him to so much good-natured chaff that he calmed down into a useful and intelligent member of the conference.

The second caucus of our delegation was held to discuss the dilemma in which the United States delegates found themselves. Having somewhat over strained themselves in dismembering the British Empire the Americans were asked by the English what contribution their country was prepared to make to the post-war world? That was a question no American cared to answer after the Republican triumph at the polls the month before. The tables were thus neatly turned. Now we were on the spot. It took us three or four days to regain our customary complacency and to recover some of the ground lost by this counter attack. At our caucus, the chairman asked old Senator Elbert D. Thomas, as the most expert political analyst present to say whether he thought the United States would accept post-war international responsibilities. The old Buddha, after consideration, gave birth to the following important formula: “My state would do so, but I do not think that the states around us would!” Since his state is Utah, with the smallest electoral vote in the Union, the oracle had not completely solved our troubles for us. If he was no more persuasive as a young Mormon missionary to Japan, one is not surprised that the Latter-Day Saints failed to convert the Japanese. We retired in some confusion to our icy bedrooms to sleep over the situation–but la nuit did not porte conseil, and perforce on the succeeding days our ferocity against the English colonial system somewhat abated. Nobody mentioned the name of one Franklin D. Roosevelt, either at our caucus, nor on any later occasion. The November election had wrought wonders. Even Mr. Michael Straight, editor of the New Republic, Mr de Caux, the C.I.O. representative, and Mr Edgar A. Mowrer, who were members of our delegation laid aside their harps, took off their long white robes and dismounted their wings for several succeeding days. There was thus some crumb of comfort, however negative, to be derived from the doldrums in which we Americans found ourselves.

With the odds so heavily against them, nevertheless the British delegation was easily the best there. Headed by old Lord Hailey, forty years in the Indian Civil Service, former Governor of the Punjab and of the United Provinces, in his old age he had shown much liberality in his book African Survey and was filled with genuine concern for undeveloped minorities. It is perhaps this very concern for the minority which has kept the English parliamentary system alive during the centuries.

Hailey enjoyed the undeniable advantage of being the only “Lord” there, but he owed his success at the meeting chiefly to his Irish wit, not to mention a polished parliamentary manner. Add to this his old-world air of authority. His bald head and aquiline features resembled a bust of Julius Caesar. The Old Romans of Queen Victoria’s day governed a large part of the world–and looked it. He confided to me that he hadn’t a bean in the world, except his pension, and was in a hurry to retire so that he could spend the rest of his days sea-trout fishing on the west coast of Scotland.

Hailey opened the first plenary meeting of the conference with a prepared address stating that England was ready to speed-up the progress of all her colonies towards self-government, adding that their policy had never been one of exploitation–but of trusteeship. He said the new watchword was to be partnership with their colonial subjects. He and his colleagues on their delegation were absolutely sincere in this, and were shocked at the lack of appreciation from the “have-not” members present. He described the progress towards self-government as a ladder: some of their colonial peoples had climbed already higher than others up the ladder; Ceylon and Burma were at the top, and were now ready. To the Indians, he turned and said in most decisive tones: “We are ready to accept any constitution for India of whatever form, upon which you can agree.”

He was followed by Dr. Sao-ke Alfred Sze, former Chinese Ambassador in Washington and London. He too, read from a prepared address. He is an amiable and popular man, and the method by which he has gained his popularity was apparent in his speech. He talked for some time and said nothing. He has some nervous disorder which caused his hands to shake so he could hardly follow the paper. The other fourteen Chinese present were gloomy and recalcitrant. They felt they were being neglected–they had moreover positive complaints, to wit: four lend-lease shipments of armaments which had been ear-marked for China had been diverted en route to others of their “allies.” (India?) They wanted all of their territory back–especially the three eastern provinces which make up Manchuria, and Formosa which they had ceded to Japan in 1895. They did not ask for Korea–they wanted to stick the United States with a mandate for that! Especially on the subject of emigration of Chinese they were insistent. This is a really live issue in all near-by parts of the eastern world, and causes the utmost and genuine concern to their neighbours. The spectre of Chinese penetration and economic imperialism haunted us all throughout the conference. Their ardent nationalism of the present day alarms all of their neighbours. They demanded the return of Formosa without any concession as to an international police post–said that could be discussed later. Their delegation showed little teamwork; they seemed to me to be afraid of the two or three delegates who had come by bomber plane from Chungking, and were alarmed at what they might report on their return there. One of them, at a plenary session made a fiery speech, demanding: “Is America fighting for China?”

The most attractive, refined-looking woman present was the lady pilot, Mrs. Hilda Yen, who had flown her plane from Chungking via India and Africa. She had been as a child to school in the United States and could speak English perfectly, free from those humming, explosive noises indulged in by most Chinese when they are said to be talking in English.

Taking it all in all, throughout the conference, the English got the roughest ride, but the Chinese caused the greatest uneasiness to others.

After Dr. Sze had finished his address, the chairman called on the only Korean present, Younghill Kang, who came from the Board of Economic Warfare in Washington. He was formerly Professor of English Literature at New York University. He started off well enough telling how a Presbyterian missionary had helped him to escape from Korea and reach the United States. Then he recited the names of all the masters of English literature to whose works he was addicted. Finally he turned on the tap of self-pity and told us what a hard time he had in getting started. He had worked up from seven dollars a week to fourteen when I went down for the third time. I did not listen to his last ten minutes. My mind went back to my visit to Seoul, the capital of Korea, in 1915. The Japanese Resident Commissioner had done the honors and shown me around, then offered me a drink. He thereupon told me he had been to school in Bridgeport, Conn., and not only spoke American but thought like an American. He had accepted his mission to Korea with exalted notions of how he would up-life them, but, he added bitterly, “I had not been here a month before I wanted to hit these God-damned boobs of Koreans with a club.” No! Delegate Younghill Kang did not sharpen the zest of anybody present for a Korean mandate!

To turn now to the working of the round tables. Bach was given a special subject, to be discussed by the twenty to twenty-five delegates present. No votes were to be taken–no decisions to be made–only discussion. Ordinary statements to be confined to three minutes. All proceedings deemed confidential except the summary of opinions written up by a rapporteur who was present. Since about half of the delegates sat silent most of the time, the report of the rapporteur could not be taken as a correct summing up of what all members thought.

When a round table had finished its discussions, the rapporteur, looking worried, disappeared for a day or so, to write up the report which he was to read to a plenary session.

The best of the rapporteurs we heard were:

  1. Professor Ralph J. Bunche from Howard University in Washington. He is a Negro (mulatto), member of the American delegation, and one of the most popular and useful members of the conference.
  2. Miss ———– (?), an American girl, who came there as a member of the secretariat.

The most important round table at which I sat was that on India. We had six sessions of two hours each. The result was a personal, parliamentary triumph for Sir Ramaswami Mudaliar, with whom I had chatted in the train. The Indian delegation was hand-picked and perfectly drilled. No voice was allowed to be raised for Gandhi, Nehru and the Congress party.

There were seven Americans and five Canadians at this round table, and they started off baying in a chorus of discontent with the failure of the Cripps Mission. They all regarded it as of supreme strategic importance to get some kind of settlement of the India question. The complexities of the question finally brought our round table to a peace of exhaustion or perhaps one should say numbness not unaccompanied by headache.

Sir Frederick Whyte started off as the ringleader for his trained Indian performers. For five years he has been President of the Indian Legislative Assembly. Large, bland and parliamentary, he seemed too reasonable to be entirely true. He had intended, I think, to hold the hoop through which the Indians were to jump. After the first session, pale and almost unnerved, with disordered hair and his parliamentary manner shattered, he subsided into innocuous desuetude.

The Indians took charge. Their teamwork was perfect; their manners imperturbable, their modesty and good humour beyond reproach. They ranged in importance all the way from the highest officials down to Mr N. Sivaraj, a representative of the “Depressed Classes” i.e., the untouchables. His manner was as humble as that of the Mad Hatter at Alice’s tea party; his countenance was so black you would have collided with him on a dark night. But like all the rest of them, he had brains and wit. He rather attached himself to me socially, and more than repaid my attentions by his one witticism to me–he called our Philippine experiment, “a policy of inexpediency,” which made me laugh.

The Begum Shah Nawaz, parliamentary Secretary to the Government of the Punjab, was the light forward of the Indian team. It is said that our soldiers now in North Africa have been instructed never to speak to a Mohammedan lady–such orders would be quite superfluous in dealing with the Begum. No man I have ever met could have gotten one word in edgewise with her. She was gifted with a perfect cataract of English speech and possessed the added advantage that we could not understand a word she spoke. Moreover she brought with her an ammunition dump of stupefying statistics.

I think she gained more yards for her team than any of the others. Her star play, however, seemed to pass unnoticed by all but myself. Among the hand-picked Indians who made up their delegation were two partisans of the Indian Congress party–but with sealed lips. One of them was a bearded, rotund jolly lawyer named K. M. Panikkar, whose continual high spirits were infectious–except at the breakfast table. He was the kind of social Indian who stays at the Savoy Annex and dances at the Kit-Kat Club. He had whispered in my ear that he was pro-Congress but pledged me to secrecy.

Having been called before our round table to testify about how easy it would be for the Indian Princes to fit into an independent and federated India–he being the foreign minister of the native state of Bikaner, and thus qualified as an expert–he was uninterrupted during his ten minute statement. When he finished, our chairman, Mr. Edgar J. Tarr, Director of the Bank of Canada, asked Panikkar mildly what he thought of the Congress party–at once a brilliant diversion was created by the Begum: she poured forth a torrent of words to which Mr Tarr listened most courteously. When the Begum paused for breath, it was noticed that Panikkar had disappeared. This was as neat as any forward pass I ever witnessed. When after the meeting I charged Panikkar with this maneuver, he denied it vehemently, but I noticed that his face twitched slightly.

Another Indian who contributed to the gaiety of nations was Sir Muhammad Zafrulla Khan, Judge of the Federal Court of India. I had supposed he did not speak English, so silent and judge-like was his demeanor for several days. Finally we reached a point where Lord Hailey was betraying his usual anxiety over the minorities. He was asking what would become of the aboriginal inhabitants of Formosa if it were given back to China. There was a pause and then the Indian Judge said in deep and solemn tones: “Minorities are more interested in self-indulgence than in self-government.”

To return now to the discussions at the India round table. Sir Ramaswami Mudaliar, who was their spokesman, opened by stating that the Cripps Mission had failed because Sir Stafford dealt only with Gandhi and Nehru. That Gandhi would not negotiate with England because he believed the United Nations were already licked. That “Mahatma” Gandhi, (in slightly sarcastic tones) had tremendous influence on the Congress party, but that many of his followers could not swallow his non-violent resistance. There was little to be done while Gandhi and Nehru lived, but each had now reached their alloted “three score and ten.” He insisted they were not now “in jail” but only under detention. Meanwhile voluntary enlistment of Indian soldiers was going ahead at a greatly increased rate. Most Indians wanted to fight–and certainly did not want the Japanese. If the Western powers believed they could bring about a mediation, they would be most welcome to try. The Committee of Mediation should have the power to settle the dispute or else the Indians would not accept it. He wished for an independent dominion form of government for India, but within the framework of the British Empire.

Sir Frederick Whyte, who had been sadly jolted by the sand-papering he had undergone from the Canadian-American bloc at the table broke in to say that the Americans had disqualified themselves from sitting on such a mediation board because they were so soaked in Gandhi propaganda. Explosive denials by several Americans. Then someone suggested “Let the Chinese do it!” Thereupon the Begum was understood to reply “China has been as much exposed to Gandhi propaganda as America.”

Then the subject of Pakistan, or Mohammedan separation was introduced, and quite a lively wrangle ensued between Hindus and Moslems. There were few, if any, dull moments in the conference.

A mild and scholarly American, W. Norman Brown, Professor of Sanskrit at what they are pleased to call the University of Pennsylvania, had a constructive proposal to make. He has served in India for years as a Professor of English, but neither his voice nor his manner were sufficiently aggressive to dominate the tumult–which sounded like the zoo at meal time. Brown’s blond head sank back quite disconsolately. What he proposed was that the Government of India should give “responsible government” to the Viceroy’s Executive Council. I managed to get the floor to support his proposal, citing how President Wilson had sent me to the Philippines in 1913 to break the governmental deadlock there. My predecessor had failed to get the budget passed by the Filipino Assembly. I did. Instead of repressive measures, we gave the Filipinos more concessions, beginning with a majority in the Commission, or Upper House. Shortly afterwards, I added, the First World War broke out. The prelude was the United States withdrawing its army and navy from the Philippines for more needed use elsewhere. The Filipinos were left to take care of American interests in the Islands. The last act of this drama was the recent battle of Bataan where 20,000 young Filipinos laid down their lives to protect not only their own liberties, but also the American flag.

Towards the end of our long session on India, Mr. Len de Caux, the C.I.O. representative, wanted to bring in a discussion of the American poll tax!

As the only representative of a poll tax state (Virginia) present, I stated that if given an opportunity I would vote to amend the constitution of Virginia to abolish the poll tax, but that I differed from my colleague both as to the nature and implications of the poll tax. Mr. Tarr, the chairman, intervened to rule the poll tax out of order. Mr de Caux, in the next plenary session, complained he had been “shut up” on the poll tax question.

It may thus be seen that the machinery at the India round table was running down–whirring and knocking noises were, by now, quite audible. Injured combatants were quietly licking their wounds. Sir Rasmaswami was allowed the last half hour almost without interruption. He acquitted himself with dignity and composure. Altogether a notable parliamentary triumph for him. No votes were taken and no decisions reached. Nevertheless, those of us who had for the first time debated with Indian leaders left the Council chamber with vastly increased respect for their race, and with much greater hopes for the future of India. Later I asked Panikkar whether the Indians would believe the word of an Englishman. “Absolutely,” he replied “but it’s damned hard to get them to give their word!”

During almost the whole course of this “round table” four representatives of the American State Department had sat side by side with a dyspeptic expression. They were not wearing striped pants due I suppose to the deep snow through which they had to walk to the meeting. All four looked as if they had had their faces lifted.

My next round table was the “Political-Military”–a review of the political situation in the Far East, with consideration of the strategic implications involved. In the room next to us sat the “Military-Political” round table, where questions, similar to ours, but with the stress laid on the military features were debated. All the Generals, Admirals and Air Chief Marshals present sat, of course, at the latter table. Judging from their typical style of debate, as observed in other meetings, we could easily picture what was going on at this adjoining round table. Major General V. W. Odium, recently Commander 2nd Division Canadian Army in England, barked out his words by two and threes, apparently ordering us all to go over the top. Our own more suave Admiral Harry E. Yarnell, U.S.N., adopted the quiet technique appropriate to the quarter-deck. His was the “You may fire ready, Gridley” style. Major General Frank McCoy, resting after his recent arduous duties of condemning a lot of German spies to death, was suave and reticent. Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Longmore had plenty of time during the discussions to think over the more congenial days he had lived through in the distant past before this war. Judging from private conversations I had with him at meal times, his mind dwelt often on grouse-shooting, tho one of his most pleasant memories was of a night long ago at St. Tropez, where they bought the dance band, and didn’t get home until the next afternoon.

We were credibly informed that the Military-Political table dismissed our own deliberations in the next room as freshman-sophomoric; saying that we spent all our time up in the stratosphere, without sufficient oxygen.

In the Political-Military round table I sat between Lord Hailey and Mr G. H. C. Hart, the brains of the Netherlands’ delegation. This was enjoyable. While the Chinese were indulging in some big talk about the unreasonableness of asking for an “international security post” on Formosa after the war–explaining that it could only be intended against Japan–who would be disarmed anyway–Hailey and I were whispering together about the siege of our legations in Peking by the Boxers! While Dr Sze, the leading Chinese delegation, was denouncing the opium traffic, I told Hailey that I had demanded and received the recall of the Chinese Consul General at Manila [because he was personally involved in the opium smuggling ring]. I think Hailey enjoyed it, too, for he invited me to join him in sea-trout fishing on the west coast of Scotland; meanwhile, as a first installment, he invited me to lunch with him.

The chairman of our Political-Military debate was Mr. H. B. Butler, C.B., LL.D., Minister and Director General of British Information Service, British Embassy, Washington. He was a fair and discreet presiding officer, hut gave out very little light and heat.

Lord Hailey was, as usual, the central figure of the discussions. He exhibited his usual concern over untutored minorities. Mentioned more than once the headhunters of Borneo. Was told that after a head-hunter had completed his collection of heads he wasn’t such a bad sort of chap at all, and much like other people. Being considerably badgered by several Americans at the round table Hailey showed what a sting he had in his tail. He remarked in a dreamy voice that he had said somewhere recently–thought it was in the House of Lords–that he was sometimes thankful he was not an American–look at Puerto Rico–when the people there asked for bread, the United States gave them the vote! I joined in the loud laugh, but happened to glance at the faces of my fellow Americans present–they looked like graven stone images.

We Americans were being pushed about as usual at this conference because we criticized others and had nothing constructive to offer. Finally, Dr. Stanley K. Hornbeck of the State Department expressed the opinion that the United States would join the International Police after the war. I added my opinion to the same end. Embree and Tyler Dennett, former President of Williams College, said ditto. Our views were well received. Old Senator Thomas had gone home, anyway! The only persons present who did not look particularly gratified were, as it seemed to me, the Chinese. But perhaps I did them an injustice. They have the shape of countenance which cannot express pleasure without grinning–and they were certainly not grinning at the moment.

I improved the occasion to drive the point home by announcing that before the battle of Bataan, President Roosevelt had wired President Quezon, that all the man power of the United States and all their resources would be back of his promise to regain the independence, and to secure it. “To that extent at least,” I added, “the United States is determined to stay in the Far East after the war.” I listened carefully for three rousing cheers from the Chinese, but do not now recollect to have heard even one cheer. Still, one never knows, they may have their own quaint way of expressing a delirium of pleasure.

The most serious issue of immediate post-war concern was, of course, Hong Kong. Did the Chinese insist upon its return after a century as a British colony? Was not the matter also of great importance to the trade of all the nations in the Western Pacific? Could we afford to lose this great free trade post? One of the English delegates put the matter very objectively and with much restraint. There was no answer from the Chinese. They sat silent, with poker faces. The foreign concessions at Shanghai present an almost equally thorny problem. A great imperial city has grown up on the mud flats so contemptuously given the European merchants long ago. In recent years, the Chinese have shown a decided intention to get them back, with all the fabulous riches which have been built up there.

Two of the fears in the back of the minds of many Asiatic delegates were Chinese imperialism and American imperialism! One delegate let slip the statement that the people of the United States were imperialists and didn’t know it themselves. Perhaps he referred to our “Good Neighbour” policy towards South America which is compounded of an equal mixture of self-defense and exploitation. However, there is no need at present to worry about that since everyone knows that people seldom stay bought. There were no delegates present from any of the South American States which front on the Pacific!

Of the four delegates from the Philippines, it can be said that they won good opinions on all sides because of their modesty and excellent manners. They knew that after the battle of the Philippines their race had won universal good will from the United Nations. They were, indeed, “sitting pretty,” and unlikely to mar the picture by any demands or aggressiveness. Commissioner Elizalde went home on the third day; Rotor and Ugarte three days later. The latter two had never attended an international conference before. Dr. Zafra stayed to the end and came back with me. He had been at the “sugar conference” in London several years before, and is thoroughly grounded in economic facts and figures concerning the Philippines.

Zafra was at the Economic round table and reported that it had degenerated into a cross fire of arguments between half a dozen of the so-called economists present. Their terminology was so obscure that it was not certain that they even understood one another. The rest of those present had little idea what the debate was about. The rapporteur, Mr. J. B. Condliffe, Professor of Economics at the University of California, and of several English institutions, made what seemed to me a comic report of the proceedings to the plenary session. It thus becomes apparent, as I had always suspected, that economics is not an exact science–or else its high priests have not yet agreed upon a common prayer book.

The last plenary session ended on a note of bitter wrangling between the delegates from the British Dominions and those from Great Britain. The ghost of Winston Churchill’s Mansion House speech had not been laid. Walter Nash, New Zealand Minister to the United States, and a member of the Pacific War Council made a rousing stump speech taking great patches of skin off the English delegation. It was a thoroughly embittered and masterly address. Various of the English present answered him, maintaining the complete sincerity of their offers, and the good faith of the English Government and especially of the House of Commons on the question of gradual freedom for the component parts of their empire. Mr. Arthur Creech Jones, M.P., parliamentary secretary to Hon. Ernest Bevin, Minister of Labour, made an answer of passionate sincerity and deep feeling to Nash’s attack. Pool old Sir John Pratt, Chairman of the Central Chinese Railways–a slender, tall mestizo of some ancestry hard to analyze–almost broke into tears. He acknowledged that he had come to this conference to aid in offering most substantial concessions to present world opinion on the subject of colonial imperialism, but that he would leave with a miserable feeling of defeat and utter failure. Then there was some more sandpapering of the American delegation because of our failure to promise more substantial post-war co-operation. Mr. Michael Straight, the youngest American delegate, finally presented a resolution offering such co-operation as the rest of us could not now dare to propose. This won goodwill, and considerably raised Straight’s batting average. His chief impediment throughout was his delivery–he talks as if he had a hot potato in his mouth.

The closing ceremonies that night were given to amiable discourses from delegates selected by the management. The storm had blown itself out.

Dr Zafra made a modest and humorous little address which was well received. Dr Stanley K. Hornbeck, (representing the Department of State) closed for the Americans. He tried to offer post-war co-operation without committing himself to anything definite. The mountain groaned in labour, and “mus ridiculus exit”--in other words, he is not proficient in the art of walking on egg shells.

As for myself, having been the first proponent thirty years ago of the gift of self-government to a “native race,” I had to rub my eyes and look around to make sure it was not all a dream. Where were all of these fiery apostles of freedom a quarter century ago? Which one of these Americans had approved my policy in the Philippines and had backed me up when I most needed it? Not one. I remembered the visit of Clyde Tavenner to the Philippines when I was in my eighth year as Governor General. He had been a former colleague of mine in Congress and was on my side of these problems. When he came to say good-bye at Malacañan, he told me that in his tour of the Philippines he had met only one American who believed in Philippine independence. “Who’s that?” I eagerly inquired. “Yourself” he replied.

Whatever may be the satisfaction one may feel in seeing in his own time a large part of world opinion swing around to the thesis on which he wrecked his own political career, nevertheless it is a sad fate to be a whole generation ahead of the times.

December 1, 1942

Quezon thinks Admiral Leahy arranged for the occupation of North Africa, but when he was “recalled” from Vichy he was really getting out before the Nazis could seize him and treat him as a spy.

I was invited to attend the Cabinet meeting yesterday to hear Bernstein explain his plan and program for the new office of “Special Service” (propaganda) which he is organizing for Quezon. It was a one man show. Quezon made a long and rather astute statement to let Bernstein understand that he had changed his mind as to the scope of the undertaking. Bernstein was told to read his plan of organization and was stopped after the opening paragraphs. It was a scheme for a Malay Federation to include the Philippines, the Dutch East Indies, Siam and French Indo-China. Quezon explained that if such a scheme were ever proposed, it would have to come from the Javanese, or others of the countries concerned –otherwise it would look as if the Filipinos were reaching out after an empire. Quezon said he would not mind if Java were the seat of government, of such a federated state –but that it was no time to mix in such questions now! Such a move would only provoke ill feelings among allies. Elizalde says that Quezon watches the faces and studies the expressions of everybody in a group which he is addressing and added that Quezon must have noted the strained and worried countenances around him during this very interesting and, perhaps, momentous conversation.

Luncheon with the two United States Army captains, who escaped with extreme hardship from the Philippines in August and made their way to Australia. Splendid chaps: they are longing to get back to fight the Japanese and don’t wish to be sent anywhere else, even to North Africa! One had been in Batangas and one in Mindoro, and tho every Filipino in each of those provinces knew where they were, nobody gave them away to the Japanese. Instead, they sheltered and fed them and gave them the small boat in which they finally got away together. They reported that there are believed to be only 20,000 Japanese in the Philippines now. They stick to their garrisons, or to the big cities, or to the camino real. The Filipino protector of the captain who was in Batangas came and went to Manila whenever he wished. He repeated a conversation with a Japanese colonel who spoke Spanish well: this colonel confessed that the Japanese knew from the beginning that they could not win this war. The two officers agreed that there were many Americans –soldiers and civilians, at large and in hiding in the Philippines.  They said the Filipinos had remained perfectly loyal, but one of them added that he was not sure they would all continue so if the situation were prolonged indefinitely without relief.

Quezon was much gratified to have them say that the Filipinos were perfectly loyal to him, and had not blamed him for his escape from the islands –that they understood the necessity for this. He stated again that when MacArthur pressed him to go to Corregidor, he had resisted and then finally been persuaded. He had sent for General Francisco, who told him that with 1,500 of the Constabulary soldiers he could keep Quezon perfectly safe indefinitely in the mountains of Rizal; he knew every foot of those wild mountains; that if they gave him enough machine guns he could continue to harry the Japanese and inflict great damage on them. MacArthur vetoed this suggestion. Quezon said no Filipino would ever have given his hiding place away. I remarked that they did do so in the case of Aguinaldo and he replied that Aguinaldo had been guilty of great crimes and misdemeanors.

He also remarked that like Governor General Murphy, he had never allowed the death sentence to be inflicted –he hated the idea of putting a man to death in “cold blood”!

Sunday, November 29, 1942

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon is looking in better health and spirits than I have observed this year. He told me that I am to go with Resident Commissioner Elizalde to represent the Philippines at the international meeting soon to be held in Canada, under the Institute of Pacific Relations.

He added that hereafter, he will really have some work for me to do, for he is setting up an office of “public relations,” i.e., propaganda, and wants someone there who really knows the Philippines, since he is dissatisfied with the present organization.

As to the coming gathering in Canada, I raised at once the question of the future of India, in order to know his own present attitude.

He then gave me at length an account of the most interesting debate he recently had with the British Ambassador, Lord Halifax, in the United Nations Pacific War Council on the subject of India. He began by telling me that after the first four or five meetings of the Council which he had so far attended, at which he had sat silent, he began to believe that the Council was largely a farce; but that it was at least desirable to have the Philippines represented on it to show the world that they had equality with other nations of the Pacific.

One day at the Council, Mr. Nash of New Zealand was holding forth, as he usually does, at great length “laying down the law” about strategy, and expressing dissatisfaction with the present situation. Then Quezon took up the debate and said: “I think there is nobody at this table who is more interested in the war in the Pacific than myself, since my country, is already under the heel of the Japanese. But, in view of the ‘global strategy’ of the day, I am constrained to be reconciled. I feel that there are some countries today which are of more importance than others in that aspect. I refer particularly to India.” He then asked President Roosevelt to tell them about India. Roosevelt said he knew little more than the British censors allowed him to learn, so he turned to Halifax who replied that the situation was all right–that the Indians had refused to accept responsibility; Hindus and Moslems could not agree.

Then Quezon resumed, stating: “I know nothing myself about India; I have been there twice only–as a tourist. I do not know the Viceroy, I do not know Gandhi, I do not know Nehru. I believe that if I were there now, I could find out. Let me tell you a story, and you shall draw your own conclusions, for I shall draw none. Prior to the year 1896, some young Filipinos who had been educated in Europe began to press the Spanish Government in Manila for liberal concessions to the Philippines. The leader of these was Dr. Jose Rizal. The Spanish in the Philippines said to themselves: ‘If we execute Dr Rizal, the ignorant, uneducated masses in the Philippines will cease to be interested in this movement.’ So, on December 30, 1896, they executed Rizal. Within three months, the whole of the Philippines was in a blaze of insurrection. The Spanish finally paid Aguinaldo and his leaders 400,000 pesos to remove to Hong Kong. Dewey, after his naval victory, brought Aguinaldo back to help him take Manila. But when McKinley decided to assert American sovereignty over the Islands, Aguinaldo led an insurrection against the Americans. The Americans said: ‘It is only the Tagalogs–if we suppress them, the rest of these ignorant, uneducated people will settle down.’ But it took them four years, an army of 180,000 men and more than $600,000,000 to accomplish this. And then what really reconciled the Filipinos was the school system set up by the American Army officers. Even when in 1916 the Jones Law was passed, they were not entirely convinced. It took the agreement between President Roosevelt and myself in 1934, and the setting up of the Commonwealth to do that. When President Coolidge had told the Filipino delegation to Washington that the matter had been settled for two or three generations, they paid no attention to that, and kept right on with their political campaign.

“Meanwhile, almost every American in the Islands had constantly maintained that the Christian and Mohammedan Filipinos could never get on together; that as soon as American rule ceased, the Moros would cut off the heads of all the Christian Filipinos–but since the inauguration of Filipino self-government there has been far less war between them and the Moros than under the Americans.

“I have said that personally I know nothing of India, but if, when I left the Philippines I had not been so ill, I would have liked to go there, even if President Roosevelt forbad it, and I think I could have found out what is the matter supposing the English had not seized me and executed me!”

When Quezon ended, Lord Halifax replied: “Nobody around this table can admire more than I do the character, the courage and the ability of the Philippine President. I believe, however, that if he had gone there, as he says, he would have found on closer inspection that the problem is far more complicated than he thinks–even if the authorities had not ‘executed him.’”

Quezon replied: “The Ambassador seems to misunderstand me. I said I knew nothing about India but that I believed that I could find out. And why? Because as a Filipino, the leaders of Indian life would have had faith in me, and told me frankly their ideas and purposes. The Indians, however, do not have faith in the English as the Filipinos had faith in the Americans and thus they cannot unite to solve their problems as we did. I refuse to believe that the Indians are so unpatriotic as simply to decline to share the responsibility. I believe that there must be very many patriotic men among them, and we should know what it is they mean. The situation has been misrepresented to us by the official reports of the Government of India–not intentionally, of course, but certainly so. And I venture to assert that I could have found out what the real trouble was if I had gone there.”

Then Roosevelt pacified the situation by telling a story of Al Smith’s ability to handle human relations–how he addressed a labour crowd which was expressing great discontent. Smith said that he was their friend and hoped they were his friend. That he really wanted to find out what the trouble was, and he believed that as men of good will, they could settle it all if the men would select a few representatives to join him around a table where they could smoke some really good cigars, have a drink, and talk it all over as friends.

And then Roosevelt adjourned the meeting of the Pacific War Council.

Next Quezon told me of a recent correspondence with Lord Halifax. When Quezon was last in New York, he read a telegram he proposed to send to Gandhi and Nehru over the telephone to the President’s lady secretary and asked her to enquire of Roosevelt whether he had any objection to Quezon’s sending it. Quezon did not disclose to me the contents of the telegram. Immediately Roosevelt telegraphed Quezon heartily approving of his sending the message. So it was sent. No answer.

Shortly afterwards, a letter came to Quezon from Halifax, saying that he had been instructed by the Secretary for Foreign Affairs to express the regret of the Government of India that they had been unable to deliver the message, since both Gandhi and Nehru were in jail, and communication with them was not permitted. All very courteous and correct in Halifax’s letter.

I asked Quezon how he got on with his Dutch colleague on the Pacific War Council. He said he had nothing much to do with him. Asked whether he thought the Dutch would have their empire restored after the war, he said he didn’t know–but it it were, it would only be a matter of thirty years at most.

He then added that what he believed the Indians wanted was a greater share in their government–that they did not wish for direction of India’s military effort. He added that the present situation was much more likely to turn India over to the Japanese.

November 14, 1942

P.M. at the Shoreham.

Quezon pale and tired and talking as little as possible. He was dictating a letter to Mrs. Woodrow Wilson thanking her for some courtesy and expressing to her how much the Filipinos loved the late President Wilson for fighting for their independence and for protecting their rights.

He gave an amusing explanation of the reason why the mass tomorrow is not to be at the Cathedral, as he had directed his chaplain, Father Pacifico Ortiz– instead, it is to be held at the Jesuit Church to which order the chaplain belongs, though there are more steps there than Quezon wishes to climb. “He wants to get more people at the mass than we had at the broadcast. But I told him” said the President, “‘to invite only the Roman Catholics on the list of those whom we had invited to my broadcast.’”

He then talked of his veto of the bill for “religious instruction” in the schools of the Philippines–adding however, that if beforehand, High Commissioner McNutt had expressed to him disapproval of that measure, “I would have signed it. I’ll tell you a secret: I let the Assemblymen think I might sign it–it was, however, so long I couldn’t read it, but would consider it if passed. They offered a conference with me on the terms of the bill, but I refused. When Mrs. Quezon heard that it might fail to pass the Assembly she was greatly upset. She was ill at the time, but I had a talk with her. I asked her ‘Do you trust me?’ She looked at me and said that question was almost an offense–of course she trusted me. I then asked her if she realized that in pursuit of my duty I would sacrifice even herself, our children and myself? She said: ‘Yes, do your duty.’ Then, when the time came to veto the bill, the Bishops whom I defied could not get at me.” Quezon remarked: “Many a ruler has been ruined by priests, especially by his wife’s confessors.”

Quezon then showed me the script of his proposed broadcast which will, as we now know, be heard in the Philippines, where the Filipinos are able to conceal their short-wave radios because, as the President remarked they shift their short-waves every day, and you know how far they can walk in the mountains in one day.

I made one suggestion to add four words to his address, which he adopted. It referred to the guerrilla warfare in the mountains, in which the Japanese take fearful punishment. Their experiences in Formosa have taught them to dread the mountain tribes. Quezon had recently received a short-wave message from Colonel Peralta in Panay which stated that he had just killed two thousand Japanese in mountain warfare there.

November 5, 1942

At Shoreham Hotel with Quezon whom I had not seen for at least two months–he looked pale and weaker. Told me he had been in bed for a long time, that for a while he could not walk, and I saw a wheel chair in Canceran’s office. As the conversation developed, he showed his usual animation and the colour came back to his cheeks.

I asked him again about the killing of Manuel Roxas and Jose Abad Santos by the Japanese. He said Manuel Roxas had not been killed but was still fighting in the mountains (of Mindanao?). Jose Abad Santos who had (deliberately) missed the last plane from Cebu had been caught there by the Japanese and had been shot. I asked him why? He could not explain but remarked “He left Corregidor in my party.” Said he would have been a really great Chief Justice, but could never have been President because he had no executive ability.

He said he doubted whether the Japanese would ever have been inclined to attack the Philippines if it had not been for the presence of the United States there. Doubts now whether the Japanese would even allow moderate self-government to the Filipinos. Thinks however that the war is already as good as won, since the crushing defeat which Rommel suffered in Africa this week. As soon as Germany cracks, England and the United States can defeat the Japanese. Then he said to me: “We shall be back in the Philippines in 1944.”

Meanwhile, he said, it would make no difference if the Japanese won the battle of the Solomons, occupied Australia–or even India. Added they will have to be completely knocked out–will never give up. I pointed out how prudent the Japanese Government had been in giving up their spoils after three previously successful wars, when called on to do so by the Concert of Powers. He stated that this was because of their long-range planning, and that now they had attained their real objective, they would never back down. They must be smashed.

He then launched into a half-hour’s panegyric of the English. He had always been very anti-English before, and had denounced them savagely on his arrival in Washington for their collapse in Singapore. He now says that when it comes to their own real interests, such as the defense of England or of Egypt, nobody can fight more stubbornly than the English–he praised particularly their stand in front of Alexandria when they had already lost all their new material to Rommel. Previously he had always hated Churchill as an “arrogant imperialist” but now admits that he is a typical John Bull and is the man of the day. Continued with a vivid tribute to Queen Elizabeth in overthrowing the Spanish and French powers.

Was not much inclined to discuss last week’s overwhelming Republic gain in the elections in the United States. Remarked that his friend Justice Frankfurter had been “very silly–he is so ardently pro-English”–but did not explain what he meant.

Afternoon game of bridge during which he coughed frequently. Was due to entertain Justice Frank Murphy alone at dinner–explaining to me that there were certain subjects he wished Murphy to discuss with President Roosevelt. But just as Murphy arrived, Quezon was taken by a very severe fit of asthma, and doctors scurried in to attend him. He went to bed after an injection. Murphy was much worried, as indeed we all were.

Murphy and I talked together for 3/4 hour. Extremely interesting conversation about the election, and causes thereof.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 139,955 other followers