Category Diary of Francis Burton Harrison

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.

August 28, 1942

Quezon gave a luncheon in his rooms for “Chick” Parsons, the first person to leave the Philippines and return to the United States whom we have seen since the Quezon party arrived here in May. What confidential messages he brought to Quezon have not yet been told me.

All Quezon’s family and staff were clustered around Parsons, each one anxious for news of home and friends. General Kilbourne, Superintendent of V.M.I., who long ago used to command on Corregidor, was also present.

Parsons gave his news succinctly and had a ready response to all questions.

The general impression he gives is that Japanese rule in the Philippines is fairly lenient. All American men and women over military age are free from internment and living in their own homes. The chief difficulty is in lack of money, due to freezing of American and foreign banks. Jake Rosenthal is busy getting checks from Americans and selling them (without commission) for what they will bring–80% or even 50%. This, Parsons thought to be very kind because the checks are on the frozen banks “which will probably never be opened again.”

Americans of military age are interned in the new buildings of Santo Tomas University in Manila.

72,000 soldiers are interned, the Filipinos (including Scouts) at Stotsenburg, and the Americans at Fort McKinley.

Those Filipinos, such as Manuel Roxas, and Chief Justice Jose Abad Santos, who accompanied Quezon to Corregidor have been shot. (Quezon told me this in an aside–“not executed but shot”). Parsons said that there have been others “executed.” (N.B. Most fortunately, the news of the shooting of Manuel Roxas was false).

I asked Quezon what part Aguinaldo was playing, and he said “I don’t really care to talk about that.”

Bennet of the Bulletin and Dick of the Free Press are in prison in the dungeons of Fort Santiago.

The Quezon girls asked Parsons how the people felt about their leaving for Corregidor, and he replied that all were in favour of it because otherwise they would have been used as hostages to exert pressure on their father.

General Vicente Lim has not been released, as reported, and is not likely to be.

Quezon questioned Parsons as to the loyalty of the Filipinos–he replied that Quezon never had the people so united behind him as at present.

He next asked about Major Speth, the Vice Mayor of Baguio, an American of German descent and one of his closest friends. Parsons said “he is practically governor of the (Mountain) Province now.” Then Quezon told the experiences of Speth during the invasion. He was having coffee with Quezon when Camp John Hay was bombed. On leaving that night for the south, Quezon took Speth with him, but sent him back to see the Commander of the Japanese troops in the north, to ask that Baguio not be damaged, since it was undefended. This Speth tried to do but was arrested by the American general in command there and thrown into prison as a fifth columnist. On learning of this Quezon telephoned the general asking that Speth be released, but the general replied: “He talked himself into this, let him talk himself out.” So Quezon telephoned MacArthur, saying that Speth had merely done for Baguio what MacArthur had done for Manila, in declaring it an open city–so Speth was released.

I asked Parsons if any Filipino troops were still resisting, and he replied: “I hope not.”

Cebu has been burned as far up as tho church by the Filipinos.

Inter-island traffic is by vinta; there are no steamers.

The Calumpit bridge has not yet been repaired; the Manila Railroad Co. is still being run by Paez.

Imported food is no longer available; plenty of native food.

Japanese are keen about iron mines; are not interested in gold mines, of which only the lower levels have been flooded; the mills are intact. They want chromium, but the mine at Acoje cannot be used because the wharf has been destroyed.

Quezon was thrilled to learn that his radio addresses are heard in the Philippines. Parsons says the Japanese did net seize radios–only took antennae–so the Filipinos have installed new antennae buried in the ground.

Public schools are open, but the use of English is abolished; teaching is in Tagalog; at least one year of Japanese is required. Universities are closed.

Parsons told us no atrocity stories at luncheon; I had no means of seeing him alone.

August 26, 1942

At lunch.

Quezon opened by declaring that he was the happiest man in the world today. He had received the best news since leaving the Philippines. Reported a telephone conversation with “Chick” Parsons, who had just arrived on the Gripsholm from the Far East. Parsons is an American whom the Filipinos receive as one of themselves. He is Panamanian Vice Consul at Manila and because of this is believed not to have been “confined to quarters” by the Japanese. He telephoned Quezon this morning that he had frequently seen Vargas and Alunan and the rest and they are still absolutely loyal to Quezon. Quezon had received on Corregidor a letter from Vargas written just as the Japanese were entering Manila, in which Vargas stated that wherever he might be, whether (as Quezon’s arrangement had been), in Malacañan–the Japanese permitting–or in his own house, “you will always have a loyal servant in me.” Parsons is coming down to Washington tomorrow to report, as Quezon didn’t wish to continue the conversation over the telephone.

Quezon then began to talk again about the history of the American regime in the Philippines. He said that there were three Governors General who left the Islands with the hatred of most of the Americans there. Taft “because of his brave fight against the Generals while the swords everywhere were still rattling in the scabbards”; Stimson “because he put the foreign (and American) banks under the control of the government for the first time”; and myself, “for giving self-government to the Filipinos.”

Governor General Wright was an easy-going man–a southerner Republican–adding “you know what that means.” He was Forbes’ ideal. Did not go over well with the Filipinos.

Quezon then told the story of the “Bank Control” incident. He said Stimson and I were the bravest of the American Governors General because neither of us really cared whether we held on to our “job” or not. Stimson hadn’t wanted to accept the post, and returned to the United States within eighteen months to become Secretary of State.

The bank incident arose as follows: I (the present writer) had tried to put the foreign banks under Philippine Government control in my time, but had been stopped by a cable from “that imperialist Secretary of War whom Mr. Wilson had to relieve later–Lindley M. Garrison.” In Stimson’s time, Lagdameo was still Insular Treasurer, and was also Inspector of banks; he was one of the most honest and hard working of the government officials, and was sadly underpaid. When hardup he once borrowed 200 pesos from an American, formerly Insular Treasurer and a good friend, who was by then an officer in the Banco de las Islas Filipinas, (Spanish bank). This man entered the loan on the bank’s books not as from himself, as Lagdameo supposed, but as from the bank. So Stimson called Quezon in and told him the story and said he would have to fire Lagdameo. Quezon said he was inclined to agree with him but would like to talk with Unson, the Secretary of Finance. Unson told Quezon that Lagdameo was a man of perfect honesty–“if it had been 20,000 pesos, instead of 200 pesos. I might not think so–the smallness of the sum, in my eyes, confirms his honesty. If he is dismissed from the service, I shall resign as Secretary of Finance.” Quezon reported this back to Stimson who at once saw the seriousness of the situation. Quezon said it would be disastrous to his administration, such was the complete confidence of the public in Unson. “But,” he said, “I can show you a way out of it–put the banks under government inspection, appoint an American as inspector and leave Lagdameo, who has too much work anyway as Insular Treasurer. Stimson agreed, but Quezon told him of the political danger of a move so violently opposed by the banks as was government control. Stimson was quite indifferent to that–hadn’t even known that these banks were not subject to government inspection, and insisted that they ought to be. So Quezon had the law passed after giving hearings to protests from the bank lawyers. Then Stimson agreed to hold hearings before signing the bill, whereupon Quezon rushed around to know whether this meant he was not going to sign the act. Stimson smiled and said: “These people have the right to be heard, and I have the right to disregard their advice.”

Stimson staged a big public meeting in Malacañan Palace with lots of chairs, and sat there on a sort of throne, listening very seriously. Jim Ross, Dewitt et al. as lawyers made arguments. Roxas (Speaker) made a serious statement on the subject which he had studied. Stimson allowed two or three days to pass, and then signed the bill.

“Tiny” Williams of the National City Bank of New York had from the beginning, led the campaign against the bill and was organizing powerful interests in the United States by cable. Stimson sent for him and said: “I am leaving the Philippines in fifteen days and shall be Secretary of State when I land in the United States. If you do not withdraw your effort to coerce me, I shall as Secretary of State be disinclined to show any favours to the National City Banks abroad, and not much support.” Williams broke all records in getting to the cable office.

When Stimson left, Quezon in bidding him good-bye and congratulating him on a successful administration added that he had bad as well as good things to tell him–that the Americans in the Islands hated him worse than they did Harrison. Stimson replied: “My God, is it as bad as that?”

Quezon said that Stimson believed that I had tried to replace American officials too fast. Quezon added that, if I had not done so, my administration would have been a failure, for I would have lost the confidence of the Filipinos.

Stimson was a non-social man, who saw few people outside his official duties.

Taft’s speech to his opponents in the Philippines (sometimes credited to me–F.B.H.) was to the “Lions of the Press”; to them he said the waters on both sides of Corregidor are wide enough to allow then all to go home in one day.

Archbishop of Manila, Msgr. O’Doherty was formerly a close friend of Quezon, who had given up his friendship for the Archbishop after a series of cold-blooded abandonments by the latter of those who had served him loyally; beginning with General Thos. L. Hartigan who would have been penniless in his last years if Quezon had not helped him. Hartigan as lawyer for the Church had made 15,000,000 pesos for the archepiscopal see. Then came the Archbishop’s abandonment of Whitaker (son of an Oxford Don) who had made himself responsible for some of the Church’s debts (Visayan Refining Co.). Then the Archbishop went back upon O’Malley and Father Fletcher. Quezon sent for the Archbishop and told him he had lost faith in him; listened to O’Doherty’s explanations of each of the four cases and then replied that he was no longer his friend; that he would continue to show him every official and personal courtesy–but “he was through.”

High Commissioner Sayre, who got back from Corregidor to the United States before Quezon, wrote a report to the State Department thru Secretary Ickes, pointing out those whom he believed to be the “Fifth Columnists” in the Philippines, and suggesting that Quezon was one. Learning of this on his arrival, Quezon spoke at the Press Club (no publicity) referring to High Commissioner Sayre who was present, and to the latter’s suspicions. This led Sayre to go to Secretary Ickes, who had held up Sayre’s letter, and to demand that it be forwarded. Ickes still did not act, until Sayre sent a written request which Ickes could not ignore. So he forwarded Sayre’s letter with the endorsement: “President Quezon, a Filipino, does not yield in loyalty to F.B.S., an American–his value to this country is one thousand times greater.” In fifteen days Sayre was out of office.

August 24, 1942

Quezon, whom I had not seen for nearly a month, looks well but complains that he cannot make any great effort; and that his blood pressure is still very high. He spends most of the day in a silk dressing wrapper. He was closeted in his room for some time with Carlos Romulo, whom he afterwards characterized to me as politically “foolish” but adds that Romulo is a man who carries out everything entrusted to him.

He was very much aroused because of the proposed showing of an old film depicting the Philippine Constabulary in process of being cut to pieces by Moros until rescued by an American Army officer. Protested to J. Davies who is head of one of these propaganda organizations. Davies said he would at once look into it. But Quezon sat down and wrote a hot letter to the film director. Quezon denounced this attempt to show the Filipinos as cowards, (after this war in the Philippines) and added that he understood the director is a man “of Jewish race,” and that he, Quezon, considered this a poor return for his having opened the shores of the Philippines to the Jewish refugees, and for having himself given several acres of his own land to the Jews to help them to make a living. The movie director replied saying that he had withdrawn the film.

Then I had a long talk with him about his book. He stopped writing when he was in New York some two weeks ago, and retired to Leesburg to rest because he was tired. Canceran had told me that in New York he would begin dictating at 4:30 a.m. and they would not get breakfast until eleven. Quezon blamed Shuster and me for having allowed him to write so much of his personal biography and made him appear boastful–incidents of his youthful success as a runner, prizes at school, etc. He has been busy recently striking out all these passages from the galley proofs of his book which Shuster is setting up as he gets the ms. I pointed out to him that in June of this year I had worked ten hours a day for thirty days to get his book ready, under pressure from him and Shuster. Then when I submitted it to him for revision he had found a couple of mistakes I had made in putting his story on paper. That I had secured from him some account of his childhood and youth to introduce him personally to the American public, and to give a pungent background to his remarkably successful career. That he had so greatly enjoyed reviving memories of his youth that he had gone ahead with this quite independently of me. We had been talking all the time of a second book later on, in which he could really let himself go. That for nothing in the world would I stop him from recording his reminiscences, even tho they were not to go in this book. He admitted the truth of all this, but said he had decided never to write his own biography, that these things made him look ridiculous. That somebody else could write his biography (apparently not I), and he does not give me the long passages he had written or dictated about his personal life. I replied that I had been telling him for years that I was collecting materials for a biography of him, and he replied that I had better let him see what I was to write. I told him that there had been only three or four great autobiographies in the whole history of literature, and that to be really great at it a man must discard all concern as to what anybody would think of his character, and simply try to tell the truth. That I considered it fortunate that he had discovered mistakes in my ms. of this book, because that prompted him to write it all himself, which he could do a thousand times better than I could.

As for Shuster, I said that an editor learned from experience that when he persuades a man to write his first book, if he snubbed his excursions into matter not necessarily suitable, the author might throw up the whole job.

Quezon is a hard man to convince, but I think he was persuaded by this argument. He began dictating a third and fourth letter to Shuster telling him what to strike out but advising him to keep the surplus parts of personal biography for use at some future time. Then he set to work for some hours, striking out a good part of the galley proofs–much of which, I think, was quite unsuitable for the purposes of this topical war book. He called me in from time to time to read me the political parts he had written since I last saw him.

With this, I think his flagging interest in the book began to revive. It will be all the better if he now continues, though he will find it much harder to write of the serious events of the war and of his preparations for defense, than he did with the scenes of his early life which served an escapist purpose for his mind in these extremely troubled times.

He was particularly interested in reading me what he had written in favour of a “Dominion status” for the Philippines. Said he had often been accused by Americans of being secretly against independence but he had in 1916 supported the Clarke amendment in Congress for independence tho Osmeña had not. (Osmeña came to me in the Ayuntamiento one day in 1916 and was in the greatest distress and excitement–trembling–told me of the introduction of the Clarke amendment, and proposed to do all he could to defeat it. I told him: ‘D. Sergio, you have been going up and down the Philippines for years advocating independence. Now that it is offered to you, if you oppose it, the Filipino people will smear you on the wall.’ Quezon says nevertheless that Osmeña cabled him to oppose it.) In support of the principles of the Clarke amendment, Quezon says now that this would have given them independence in 1918 or 1920. That there was then, as yet, no great sugar industry in the Philippines so there would have been no powerful opposition to free trade in the United States; that the Americans would have wished to keep open their free market for shoes and machinery in the Philippines. The Jones bill, to which the Clarke amendment was added in the Senate made no provision for trade restriction in America for Philippine commerce. So the Filipinos, if made independent in 1918 would not have suffered any economic earthquake, and could have gone to work to prepare themselves for military self-protection.

In his plans for a Dominion status, he still would not have had a single American in uniform in the parts of the Islands which is government administered, but he would be willing to give the United States such small islands as they needed for their air bases, etc. He seemed anxious to have my views of what he had written on Dominion status, adding that this was the first time he had made a public statement to that effect. He wanted to know whether I thought it was all right him to make such a statement. I replied that in present conditions in the world, it was all right, and that for some years before the war, I had never given any weight to this proposition because I did not then for a moment believe that the United States would accept responsibility without power. Nor did he. But the invasion and occupation of the Islands by the Japanese had changed the whole political situation. For him now to advocate Dominion status would be merely the logical result of the choice of the United States which he made during those days of extreme anxiety, first at Mariquina and then on Corregidor, when he considered if new leaders were now arising in the Philippines. He replied that he was old (just 64) and could not answer for such a development. I asked him if the Filipinos would be in favour of his policy of Dominion status and he said “No.”

He got busy on the telephone talking in Spanish to Under Secretary of State Welles, offering to make a radio address to the Latin American States now that Brazil has joined the war. The suggestion was accepted. He also received an invitation to dine at the White House tomorrow evening.

He later sent a letter to Shuster explaining that he was not interested in any profits which might come to him from the book, altho he left the Philippines practically penniless. He wanted Shuster to be trustee for any such profits and to devote them to public purposes after the war, but if he were to die meanwhile, and his family were in want, that fact should be taken into consideration.

He then returned to the subject of his reminiscences. Told of his first “fighting speech” in the Washington House of Representatives which was in opposition to President Taft’s “Friar Land Purchase Bill”–in the middle of his speech, Crumpacker interrupted him to enquire what his colleague thought of it. Quezon replied: “I don’t know. Ask him. He is present”–but old Benito Legarda had slipped out. Quezon added “my colleague was a patriot, but he did not forget what was convenient.” When he got to their lodgings after his speech, Legarda embraced him and said “You were magnificent. Because you are so brilliant, I wish to save you. Don’t do it–don’t run your head against a stone wall. They will ruin you.” Quezon replied: “There will be other presidents after Taft.” “Yes,” said Legarda “but they’ll all be the same.” Quezon answered: “Well, I thank you very much Don Benito but remember: there is nothing so sad as a man’s not being able to return to his own country.” Legarda was not re-elected by the Philippine Assembly, went to Paris and died there, and never saw his native land again.

Quezon contrasted my action (immediately after the defeat of our party in 1920), in sending to President Wilson my resignation effective on his last day of office, with that of Governor Forbes, who was in the United States when Wilson was first elected, and went back to Manila, to be later ousted by President Wilson. Also Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. who as Governor General made a campaign speech practically accusing his cousin the President of being a crook. Then after F.D.R. was elected, T.R. Jr. offered to stay on in his post. F.D.R. replied thanking him for his devotion to his public office, but relieving him and making the Vice Governor acting. I observed that T.R. Jr. was very foolish. Quezon replied: “He’s worse that that–he’s stupid.”

In p.m. August 24th had a conversation with Mrs Quezon and Mrs. Marcos Roces, widow of the captain who was my a.d.c. in the Philippine National Guard in 1917. Her brother-in-law Don Alejandro Roces has been in recent years the most intimate friend of the Quezon family in the Philippines–at all their fiestas, or on the yacht Casiana or at Baguio with them. In the past, Roces had fought Quezon savagely with his newspapers. The first mission confided to me by Quezon when I became his Adviser in 1935 was to go as “ambassador” to Don Alejandro in his newspaper office and negotiate a treaty of peace between two doughty opponents. (See my diary for Nov. ’35.)

Mrs. Quezon does not believe the Japanese have done general damage in the Philippines since the occupation of Manila. The Japanese who acts as “G.G.” is occupying the Quezon house in Pasay, which was undamaged in the bombing.

She feels quite lost at having nothing to do nowadays. Had not only a busy life looking out for Malacañan Palace, but also for their houses in Baguio, Pasay, Mariquina, Quezon City, Cabuyao and Tagaytay.

But, when her children were fairly grown up or at school, Mrs. Quezon asked her husband to allow her to see what she could do as a farmer of her 600 hectare farm near Mount Arayat in Cabuyao. The first thing was to get irrigation water from the system in the Candaba swamp, adjoining the farm; but Quezon refused to authorize the extension of the government irrigation system in order to irrigate his wife’s farm. However she persuaded him to have a survey made, so that it was shown that such extension would benefit many thousands of hectares belonging to other persons in that vicinity.

Sugar farming had been abandoned there by Felipe Buencamino, so Mrs. Quezon started with 200 hectares of rice paddy. Then she got a Japanese manager and planted 25 hectares in ramie, a Chinese plant which can furnish rubber and also a fibre from which both “linen” and “silk” fabric can be made. The Japanese in the Ohta Development Company in Mindanao had made a great success of this fibre. It is stronger than abaca and cuts one’s hand when trying to break it. The fibre is about three feet long and makes stronger parachutes than does silk. The Japanese send to London the linen they make of it–the most beautiful sold in England.

The ramie plant is about 5 feet high, and the suckers must be cut four times a year. The leaf is heart-shaped and is silvery underneath. The fibre sells for 40-50 pesos per picul and the income is sixteen times as great as that from sugar cane. The cost of production is 20% of the gross revenue. From her 25 hectares, Mrs Quezon was getting 32,000 pesos net profit a year. It gives continuous employment to labourers throughout the year. Her ambition was to have 50 hectares of ramie. The Japanese have a special knack in this cultivation; it requires dry land, but must have irrigation.

Mrs. Quezon has had in recent years a very active and profitable life as businesswoman; was on one or two boards of mining companies, with, for two or three years an income of 1,200 pesos a month from Acoje mine (she helped to discover this chromium mine herself). In Quezon City she owned a grocery store and a drugstore; just before the invasion she had paid 20,000 pesos for beginning construction of the first cinema there; she owned also apartments and two houses in Quezon City.

She likewise owns three pescarias, or fish ponds, in Guagua, Pampanga, which yield two nettings a year; the fry are put in when the size of mosquito wigglers and in six months are foot long; 3-4,000 fish at a haul, which go fresh to market in baskets. The ponds are salt water, but are kept brackish. It is really curious how superior in business matters the Filipinas are to the average Filipino men.

She feels very deeply the interruption of her business life.

Major (Dr.) Cruz, who was present, is superintendent of the hospital she built near her farm in Pampanga. He told us that there was now news that the “communists” there had gone over to co-operation with the Japanese, as the Sakdalistas around Laguna also had, from the beginning, already done. Mrs. Quezon remarked: “A good thing, then they will no longer be communists.” Cruz observed they had never really been communists, but merely followers of Pedro Abad Santos, who is himself somewhat inclined that way. They followed him because of their grievances against the landlords. They had killed two or three of the leading landlords in recent years. There are, thinks Cruz, about 15,000 of them, including their families, in Pampanga, Nueva Ecija, Tarlac and Pangasinan.

Quezon says that Americans owned the sugar in Cuba and they brought on the war against Spain.

He remarked that Osmeña had perfect physical courage; is quite imperturbable; but has no “moral courage.”

While playing two bridge hands tonight he made mistakes–quite unusual for him–he was abstracted, and admitted he was thinking of Romulo.

Once more we agreed that the American school system in the Islands had been in some respects a failure, especially in the teaching of English, which gets worse and worse. Quezon said that while he was lying ill of TB in his house in Baguio, with a Filipina as trained nurse, she told him one morning that the “Press” was there to see him. He said: “Tell them to go to Hell”–the man at the door, who overheard, was Father Tamayo, the head of the Dominicans, where Quezon had been educated. The nurse had said “priest” as if it was “press.” Quezon easily explained this later to Tamayo.

July 15, 1942


During the Spanish regime, the cabeza de barangay was the collector of the cedula personal tax; he was handed a list of all inhabitants over 18 and had to produce revenue called for by the list, whether he had been able to collect it or not; as a result he was usually ruined. See references in Rizal’s novels, which are, however poorly translated into English.

Rizal, said Quezon, had never been one of his heroes–he was persevering, but never a man of decision–he refused, when an exile in Dapitan, to join Bonifacio in the revolution; this fact was counted on by the defense at his trial–but his execution was foreordained. The uncertainty in the mind of the reader of Rizal’s famous books Noli me Tangere and El Filibusterismo as to whether it is Elias or Ibarra who is really the hero of his novels indicated either Rizal’s own habitual indecision, or a wish to cover up his belief against a subsequent inquisition by the Spanish authorities.

Mabini (the “divine paralytic”) is more nearly Quezon’s hero. His ms. was unknown until his death; is now in Philippine National Library–and has never been printed. It denounces Aguinaldo severely, on account of his narrowness and selfishness. Mabini was captured and held as a prisoner by the Americans, and never could be forced to recant. After the insurrection, he took the oath of allegiance to the United States. While on Corregidor, Quezon wanted to go back to Manila and, like Mabini before him, have nothing to do with the captors (Japanese) even if necessary to go to prison.

At the Malolos Congress, Buencamino and Paterno urged Aguinaldo to quit the hopeless fight and negotiate with Schurman, President of McKinley’s Philippine Mission.

Quezon next turned to an account of the debates among his government associates on Corregidor upon the question of Surrender of the Philippine Army to the Japanese: They, none of them, believed in any permanence in the independence then offered by the Japanese. Osmeña and Roxas, as well as Quezon thought that if this offer was accepted by them, the Japanese Army could be persuaded to withdraw within a reasonable time, and that they might allow the American Army to be evacuated to the United States. Quezon and his advisers believed that the war would eventually be decided by an attack on Tokyo, and nowhere else in the Far East. Meanwhile, they felt it better to put up with Japanese interference in their affairs–thus sparing the Philippines all that it otherwise might go through. As for permanent independence granted them by the Japanese, it would mean very little for the Japanese Consul General would be the real Chief Executive of the Philippines. He would come to Malacañan with all “due courtesy” but the first time a serious one of his “requests” was refused, it would mean war.

Quezon called my attention to what I had told the Americans in Manila in my time namely that Quezon was the “best friend they had in the Philippines.” As a choice between the Americans and Japanese he would take the former every time; he could put up with even such absurdities as those of Governor General Wood, because he was an American–he could talk and drink with him. When he was Resident Commissioner in Washington he had lots of American friends who treated him exactly like one of themselves. With the Japanese, he could never be at ease–never could really understand them. The Japanese policy in Asiatic countries is utterly selfish; they had been so long isolated that they still thought only of themselves.

Ever since the fracas of the League of Nations, Quezon has believed that if America withdrew from the Philippines the Japanese would absorb the Islands. The Filipinos, he thinks, could not have “made terms” with them. “We would have been in the present position of the Siamese; they have the form but not the substance of self-government –that generally satisfies the Orientals but not the Filipinos.”

The following account by Quezon of the beginning of the political fight between himself and Osmeña was dictated by him to Canceran in my presence on June 7th, for use in his book The Good Fight but was omitted from the book when printed, so it is reproduced here.

“I was elected to the Assembly as Nacionalista in 1907. I was the floor leader and Osmeña the Speaker. In 1909 I was appointed Resident Commissioner and occupied the position until 1916. I secured from Congress the passage of the Jones Law and was elected Senator and then made the President of the Senate.

“The great fight between Osmeña and me started when General Wood was there. The remote cause of my fight with Osmeña was the jealousy of the Senate of its prerogatives and the Senators never admitted that. They thought that the recognition of the Speaker of the House as the number one man was a denial of the seniority of the Senate over the House. It was a mistake of Osmeña. I swear before God that I never intended to replace him as the leader of the party. I had so much love for this fellow. As a matter of fact I thought he was better prepared than me. I had no doubt that at that time he was better prepared. And this idea was so sincere with me that even when the fight on the Hare-Hawes-Cutting bill came I decided that I was not going to fight it. I was only going to explain my opinion for I thought it was my duty to tell the people. I even told Governor General Murphy that Osmeña and Roxas were the men best prepared to run the government, and that even after my election as President. But with the acts of these two men they convinced me that I could do that better than they. I will tell you how I discovered this.

“After my election as President of the Philippines, I did not want to give Osmeña a portfolio in my Cabinet. I wanted him to be my senior adviser and have all papers of the different departments go to his office before they were acted upon. But he is so interested in the appearance of things that he insisted that I appoint him Secretary of Public Instruction and he thought that his men would believe that I had disregarded him if I did not give him that portfolio and that would make him lose prestige with the ‘Pros. ‘ He insisted and I appointed him. I told him ‘I am going to appoint you but you must understand that in these circumstances you will not be my adviser any longer. You will have a seat in the Cabinet; will have a voice and no more. And you will understand that I cannot offend the other members of the Cabinet by having their views submitted to another secretary of department.’ So I dealt with the secretaries of department without taking his views first.

“However, I still thought of meeting his views on general policies and gave instructions to my aides and Secretary that the Vice President could see me any time without previous engagement, and I set aside a time for him every day. But instead of talking to me about public policies he brought petitions of men who stood by him, as well as gossip. I tolerated this for three weeks, but later on I revoked my instructions to my Secretary and aides about seeing the Vice President because I got sick about the things he brought to me. So he ceased to be what I wanted him to be–my adviser. The immediate effect was for me to go through all the departments of the government. That is why when you were there I was practically handling everything.

“Now, there is one department of the government in which I was convinced of my utter ignorance–the department of finance. I had an understanding with Osmeña and Roxas that I would make Roxas Secretary of Finance. I did not appoint him right away because I wanted his services in the House. He was a minority leader and I wanted him to work in conjunction with the majority leader so there would not be any trouble in the House. When the House was about to adjourn, I sent for him and told him about his appointment to the secretaryship, but he said that he wanted to go to Capiz and consult with his followers. He came back and said: ‘Mr President, I am ready.’

“I had talked with Quirino, the Secretary of Finance then, and had prepared him for the change a long time ago. I sent for Quirino and told him that I would appoint Roxas Secretary of Finance and him as Secretary of the Interior. I called Roxas over the phone and asked him: ‘Are you ready?’ He said ‘yes.’ Then I told him that I was going to write him a letter offering him the position. I wrote the letter, sent it to him; but I was so tired that day, I told my aides that I would not see anybody and went to bed. I fell asleep and did not wake up until five in the afternoon. During that time the reply of Roxas was delivered in which he said: ‘I have received your letter and I felt that I should remain in the House unless you think that my services are absolutely essential in the Executive Department.’ That made me so mad. I thought it was an act of treachery; that he wanted me to write another letter begging and tell him: ‘you are so essential that I cannot run the government without you.’ I was so angry that I called my children and took them for a ride with my launch in the Pasig River.

“At seven the following morning I sent for Antonio de las Alas. He came and I said: ‘Alas you are the Secretary of Finance.’ I almost killed him with the news and after telling him about his appointment I left the Palace and told the people in the Palace that I did not want to see anybody. I answered Roxas’ letter and simply told him: ‘I understand your position and I therefore shall not appoint you Secretary of Finance.’ That is all I told him, and he has been trying [sic] to see me, but I never saw him. After giving out to the press the appointment of Alas I sent word to Roxas that I would see him. He came and said: ‘Mr President, I have received your letter and I have come to tell you that I withdraw my letter.’ ‘Well, it is just a little too late’ I said. ‘And I want to tell you something so that there may be this clear understanding between us. Manoling, I have told you time and again that I could not run this government without you as Secretary of Finance and I never changed my mind about it, but when I wrote you the letter it was the President of the Philippines offering you that position. The President will not admit that he cannot run the government without you or anyone. I am going to run this government without the “Pros” and you can all go to hell.’

“The Vice President wanted to see me. I thought he was going to intervene and I was determined to tell him that I wanted his resignation as Secretary of Public Instruction. So I told my aides that I would see him right away. But to my disappointment, he did not say a word about the case. Later on I discovered why. That fellow Sabido went to see the Vice President and told him not to mention anything about the case of Roxas to me saying: ‘The President, I am afraid, will have us all out. ‘

“That is the reason why I say that these people forced me and gave me the chance to discover whether I could run this government or not. You know that in a banquet in the Palace I said that I have always thought that the Vice President was much better qualified than I was to run the government. But it was he himself who convinced me that I can run it better than anybody.

“Way back in 1916, upon the passage of the Jones Law, Osmeña telegraphed me asking what position he could occupy–what I thought should be done–where do you think I should go? I told him that I wanted him to continue being the leader of the party and that therefore he should go to the Senate and be its president. He telegraphed me again that in consultation with the leaders of the party he had decided that he should continue as Speaker and that they would elect me senator. I told them that I wanted to practice my law profession.

“So from the beginning I feared that there would be this conflict and he himself saw it.

“You know the report that the Wood-Forbes Mission made. That report made me mad like hell. I arrived in the Philippines sick with fever and before my arrival Wood had been appointed Governor General. I learned that the legislature had approved, upon the appointment and assumption of office on the part of General Wood, the same joint resolution which was approved when you were appointed Governor General. I sent for Senator Sison and told him: ‘How is it possible that you people have approved his resolution?’ He said: ‘Well, it was presented by Palma. You left Palma as your representative and we assumed that they have consulted with you.’

“That was the most humiliating thing for the legislature to do. So from that time on I realized that Osmeña was not the man to lead the country under those circumstances. I did not immediately start the trouble, but I began to show him that I was not pleased. I criticized him for that and from that time on I started letting him know that there was trouble coming. So we did not have trouble until I was ready for it, and the fight for leadership started. The elections came and I defeated him.”

July 14, 1942

Shoreham Hotel. I found Quezon in high spirits; he had an overhaul yesterday at the Walter Reed Hospital, where they found his heart, arteries, kidneys, etc., quite sound, and ascribe his blood pressure only to nervousness.

He is now all enthusiasm for writing his book, and is at work six or eight hours a day in his room, dictating to Canceran, and writing his revisions of the manuscript. He has Morgan Shuster in New York on the telephone every day to talk over the batches of ms. he sends him. Shuster is encouraging him up to the limit.

I questioned him about the willingness of the Filipinos to agree to the retention of naval bases in their islands after independence and for which he had included a provision in the Tydings-McDuffie Act; the retention or establishment of which is to be subject to negotiation between the United States and the future Philippine Republic. He rejected the idea that the Navy should then continue to occupy the old base at Cavite, or, indeed, any place on Manila Bay, whereby the seat of government would be under naval guns –but would consent to their occupying such bases as Olongapo, Pollilo, etc., and he has already set up weather observatories at such stations. The idea of the Filipinos was that the American Navy would not interfere with the internal affairs of the Republic, but that its presence in the Philippines would deter other powers from aggressions.

With the Army, however, the situation was quite different –ever since the last military governor of the Philippines, General Arthur MacArthur, had shown such reluctance to turning over the government to Mr. William H. Taft, the first civilian governor; the Army and their different posts throughout the Philippine Islands had shown a very active interest in the working of the new government of the islands. Thus, they seemed to sense they represented the idea of the use of force against the Filipinos.

This opinion Quezon had expressed in November 1935 to Secretary of War Dern and to Senate floor leader Joe Robinson in Washington some months earlier, citing in a discussion of this question what he called the “betrayal” of a Governor General by the Army. He had reference, of course, to the ludicrous and abortive “uprising” of the Filipinos in the Botanical Garden in Manila at Christmas time of 1913 when I was the Governor. This affair had consisted of the gathering of some dozens of Filipinos, mostly of the cook or muchacho type, who tried to start a noisy demonstration, but were at once discouraged by a few of the city police. We later found that this abortive affair had been “staged” by agents provocateurs of the Philippine Scouts, a part of the American Army; and an American colonel of the Manila garrison had meanwhile paraded his regiment. The secret service agents of the army were at that time too much involved in local politics –possibly in order to justify their own continued employment.

Quezon on phone with Morgan Shuster over the first proofs of title page and foreword of his book. Insists on having the italics changed in Roosevelt’s pledge, taken from under “I pledge” and inserted instead: “the full resources and man power of U.S. are back of this pledge.”  “That” he added to me “was what influenced our people to resist.”

I told him of the campaign being conducted in the United States by Pearl Buck for what she calls “economic equality, etc.” for Negroes in our country. Her argument is based on the Japanese propaganda in Asia which, she maintains, weakens America with the Chinese. I asked him if such an argument had any effect on the Chinese and he just laughed. He never had heard of Pearl Buck. He said that American Negroes were well liked in the Philippines citing the example of Major Loving, leader of the Constabulary band.

Quezon gets every day here in Washington from the State Department a precis of Japanese propaganda over the radio in the Philippines. He says: “The Japs are doing too d – d well”; that they had released Gen. Vicente Lim; had rebuilt the damaged railways, and had restored inter-island passage to the central and southern islands. I asked him about the sugar plantations; he thought the Japanese would keep them going, take all the sugar and not pay for it, adding “it makes no difference to me.”

Spoke of his troubles caused by the corruption by the Chinese in the Philippines. When a delegation from Chiang Kai-shek visited him he told them he sympathized with their desire of independence and hoped they would throw the Japanese out, but he did wish they would help him to curb Chinese corruption in the Philippines. The last Consul General they had in Manila was one of the “new young men” and he helped Quezon to clean up the immigration mess; and to put in jail the violators of that act. Quezon reorganized the Bureau of Immigration. He added that if he lives to attend the Peace Conference, he will work to see that China and Russia do not remain armed while Japan is disarmed. Hopes to line up Canada, Australia and the Latin American countries to that end.

Quezon thinks that when he asked Roosevelt for independence for the Philippines in 1938 or on 4th of July, 1939, Roosevelt was quite in conformity but was curbed by those “Experts” in the Department of State.

Quezon then remarked that he brought Rafael Palma’s new “history” for the government and then refused to have it printed, adding that Don Rafael seemed to favor Wood’s administration quite as much as mine. I told him that Palma had said to me in 1936 that I was much more “radical” than some of the Filipino leaders then were –meaning, of course, that my views on independence were more aggressive.

On Corregidor, Quezon said, he became so dissatisfied with Carlos Romulo’s broadcasts on Corregidor that he asked MacArthur (on whose “staff” Romulo served) to put him under the censorship of a committee composed of Osmeña, Roxas and Santos. Romulo came to him and said that would humiliate him, but “I had decided to fire him if he did not submit. I told him I never put out anything myself without submitting it to them.” I then read to Quezon Romulo’s interview in today’s New York papers stating that the Japanese had burned all the books in the library of the University of the Philippines dealing with “Democracy, the United States and England” etc… Quezon stated that he had heard this rumoured but did not know whether this was true or not. The part of Romulo’s interview dealing with the Bello incident was true. Bello had a school of his own at Vigan, and when the Japanese first got there they ordered him to haul down the American flag, but said he could leave the Philippine flag over his school flying. He replied that the law obliged him to have both flags, that they could haul down the flags themselves, but he refused to do so. They shot him down.

I then tried to read to Quezon from Collier’s recent article on atrocities by Japanese when entering Manila. He didn’t want to listen to it, said he never even read Marsman’s article on atrocities in Hong Kong; said he did not believe all this stuff, and would not take part in the abuse of the Japanese.

I subsequently asked three members of Quezon’s staff about atrocities in Manila; they seemed somewhat surprised by the question, calling attention to the fact that Manila had been declared an open city and was not defended. One of them said he had heard that the niece of Major Stevenot, a young American woman, had been abused by the Japanese because she would not tell them where Stevenot was. (He was on Corregidor). Stevenot was the head of the long distance telephone company, and of the radio company. Another indignity was offered to a Filipina girl who had no pass for crossing a bridge –or else did not understand the sentry’s questions. There were many atrocities of rape in the provinces.

Quezon said he had sent Colonel Andres Soriano to see Norman Davis to ask about treatment of prisoners by Japanese. Davis is head of the American Red Cross. Quezon is trying to have supplies forwarded to the Philippines. Davis stated that he was already in touch with ex-prisoners returning from Shanghai and they reported they had been well treated.

The British recognized the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, Shanghai and Singapore, and can thus communicate with their nationals there through channels. The United States has not recognized Japanese occupation of the Philippines.

American School System in the Philippines. Quezon described his quarrel with Vice Governor and Secretary of Public Instruction Gilmore (under Wood). It was in a car going down to lunch with Gilmore at the Army and Navy Club. Quezon told him the American system was destroying the old civic virtues of the Filipinos –respect for the family, the church and authority– the discussion became so heated that Quezon refused to lunch with Gilmore.

The following story was told me recently by Frank L. Crone, former Director of Education in the Philippines and in Peru:

Quezon and Osmeña were sent for during Wood’s time to come to Malacañan Palace and were occasionally kept waiting for three quarters of an hour before being received by the Governor General. Wood’s a.d.c. told Crone that on one such occasion Quezon appeared clad in a camisa de chino, chinelas (slippers) and a salacot (big country hat). When surprise was expressed at his costume, he replied: “well, if I am to be treated like a tao when I come to Malacañan, I’m going to dress like one.”

Crone said also that the ancient local, democratic self-government still prevailed in every barrio in the Philippines. The cabeza de barangay was not a government position, but was the head of the local group named barangay after the original muster of the vinta, or long boat in which their ancestors had first landed in the Philippines.

Also, he added, family affairs, such as domestic matters like Marriage, are usually settled by a big family council.

June 30—July 3, 1942

Martial Law: High Commissioner Sayre had recommended to President Roosevelt early in the summer that if war broke out, he should declare martial law in the Philippines. This the President had a right to do, in case of invasion. Quezon also had that right to be exercised in concurrence of the National Assembly. Sayre when questioned on this subject by Quezon gave an “evasive” answer. When MacArthur became Supreme Commander in July he found Sayre’s dispatches to President Roosevelt with such a recommendation. MacArthur said to Quezon that he would make no such recommendation to over-ride the Commonwealth Government; said he (MacArthur) was not in favor of setting aside the civil government in time of war. Quezon had told Sayre that if this were done, he would resign as President and then could not answer for the consequences. Martial law was thus never proclaimed in the Philippines during the war. “when I was in the agony of indecision, I thought the responsibility too great, and discussed with MacArthur, whether martial law should not be proclaimed, but he would not hear of it. When we got to Corregidor, MacArthur joined with me in my recommendation to Roosevelt that the independence of the Philippines be recognized immediately by the United States.” However, General Chynoweth had set up a sort of martial law in the Visayas. When Quezon got down to the Visayas himself, he found that the army had overridden the civil government, the police and the courts. “I was so angry that I abused General Chynoweth, poor fellow, for an hour and a half.” MacArthur revoked this imposition of martial law as soon as Quezon reported it to him by radio.

July 3, 1942

Met Lt. Col. Carlos Romulo, editor of Quezon’s paper the Herald in Manila–noted orator–a.d.c. to MacArthur, i.e., “press agent”–still very shaky, said he was wounded once on Bataan (?). He corrected the newspaper interview ascribed to him on landing at San Francisco. He did not correct the statements to the effect that he was in the United States “on a mission for General MacArthur,” nor that he was the “last man to escape from Bataan”; but did give a correct rendering of the Domei agency announcement concerning the burning of Cebu–that it was to show the Filipinos that all further resistance should cease–not that it was punishment for sniping, in which even women were said to have taken part from upper windows of houses when the army of occupation entered Cebu.

“Further resistance” probably refers to the guerrilla bands, or remnants of the army still active in the high mountains of Cebu, and perhaps also in Luzon and Mindanao.

Quezon tells me that a “high official” of the Red Cross reported to him that the Japanese are treating their prisoners in the Philippines well.

Reports come from Australia that the danger from the Japanese has not lessened–only that their present interest is turned elsewhere. Some think the enemy could take Australia and New Zealand whenever they wished.

“Nonong” (Manuel Quezon, Jr.) celebrates his sixteenth birthday. He tells me that “Calle F. B. Harrison” in Pasay has had its name changed by the Japanese.

Chat with Osmeña. He says that there were 5,000 troops in Negros; 5,000 in Cebu; 5,000 in Panay and 30,000 in Mindanao–all units of the Philippine Army, with high officers who were all Americans. Believes General Sharp, tho unwilling to surrender, probably did so when Lieutenant General Wainwright expressed his desire that he should do so.

Osmeña has always been interested in pushing the settlement of Mindanao by Christian Filipinos, but believes that in all these years they have only persuaded some 50,000 of them to go down there.

Osmeña was the founder of the Nacionalista party and its first president. Since 1907 they were permitted by the American Governors General to agitate for independence.

At the convention of Governors of Provinces in 1906, Osmeña, from Cebu, Quezon from Tayabas, Veyra from Leyte, Luna from La Union, and Gabaldon from Nueva Ecija were the only Nacionalistas, but ran the convention in spite of the fact that all the rest were Progresistas. Governor General Smith was in charge during these years. The principales of Negros proposed establishing a “Republic of Negros,” and Smith did not object so long as they stayed under the American flag. Tells the story of Smith’s first attempt to speak Spanish. It was at this banquet in Negros, and after the customary large number of courses, a lady beside him asked: “Quiere Su Excelencia tomar una siesta ahora?” He replied: “Si Señora, con usted,” thinking the siesta was a name for ice cream.

Quezon on the subject of protocol: “I have never been much interested in it. I prefer the theory of Don Quixote, who when he appointed Sancho Panza Governor of Baratari, was given a dinner by the latter. Sancho invited him to sit at the head of the table, but Don Quixote replied: ‘Wherever I sit will be the head of the table. “‘

The subject, however, is of great importance to Osmeña. Taft has fixed Osmena’s status as Speaker of the Assembly when opening the first Philippine Assembly, by declaring that, after the Governor General, the Speaker of the Assembly was the second man in the Philippines.

Leonard Wood, when Department Commander in the Army had raised the question with Governor General Forbes–Wood was unwilling to allow precedence over the Department to a Filipino. Osmeña cabled Quezon then the Resident Commissioner in Washington and Quezon went to see the Secretary of War adding that “Tho I considered my mission a silly one, yet the duty was imposed on me by my leaders.” He reported to the Secretary of War that Osmeña believed Wood was trying to undo the fiat of Taft, and that he (Osmeña) would consider such action a humiliation to him and to his people. “Personally,” said Quezon, “I never consider it important where they place me.” The War Department ducked the issue, ruling that when the Speaker was invited, the Commanding General should not be present and vice versa. This was in 1910-11. Quezon added: “Wood could not stand the idea of a Filipino being put ahead of him. I never regard such matters as important unless done with the purpose of humiliating me or my race.”

Quezon continued: “When McNutt was first sent in 1936 [sic] as High Commissioner to the Philippines, I was in Europe. The Japanese Consul gave a fiesta at which he toasted the President of the Philippines before proposing a toast to the High Commissioner (McNutt).” This Quezon considered as of no importance, and it was certainly not an official attempt of the Japanese to play politics in the Philippines. “The Americans in Manila had been pushing McNutt to assert himself, and got him crazy.” So, he sent circulars to all the Consuls in the Philippines calling their attention to the correct order of precedence, and instructing them to route all official correspondence with the Commonwealth Government through his office.

“In Washington, they had a Cabinet meeting to discuss the press furore over this matter, for they feared it would give trouble. Vice President Garner said: ‘I’m afraid we’ve sent a trouble maker there.’ President Roosevelt replied: ‘I wouldn’t say that, but he seems to be indiscreet.’

“I was in Paris at this time, but refused to be quoted as being mixed up in this damned nonsense. When I arrived in New York all the newspaper men were on to me on this question. I told them: ‘Gentlemen, all I wish to tell you is this: if there is a toast, and I am given the opportunity of drinking it, all I care about is that there should be enough to drink.’

“The President was relieved when he learned of this reply. But I feared that with McNutt I might have another Wood-Quezon fight on my hands in Manila. Before arriving home, I carefully wrote out my speech. The banquet of welcome, attended by some 1,500-2,000 people was dramatic enough for we had an earthquake during it. I told them: ‘In order that there may be no misunderstanding among the people, I consider it important on this occasion to state what I consider to be the rights of the President of the Commonwealth in relation to those of the American High Commissioner. The latter, as the representative of the President, occupies the highest place. But all the power and responsibility of this government, except in the matter of foreign affairs, rests in the President of the Philippines. In these matters, I am the boss. I will welcome any suggestions from the High Commissioner and no doubt his suggestions will exercise great influence on our decisions.” (Wm. H. Anderson’s book contains 20-30 pp. on this.)

Quezon next described his first lesson as a young member of the first Philippine Assembly in 1908 on how to act when attacked by the press. A local newspaper in Manila had attacked him in its morning issue and a friend rushed into his bedroom and awakened him with the article. He leapt out of bed, rushed through his dressing and ran to the office of the paper, asking to see Salazar, the editor. He shoved the paper before him and asked him if he had written it. “Yes,” so he pushed it into Salazar’s mouth who went over backward with his chair. Alemany rushed in to protest, and Quezon raging, asked him if he had anything to do with it, so Alemany fled. Then Salazar challenged Quezon to a duel and Quezon replied: “To hell with you and your duel.” He then went into the composing and printing room and told the workmen in Tagalog that they ought to quit working for such scoundrels.

The next morning, all the press attacked Quezon. He began to be ashamed and to think that after all he was disgraced. He went down to attend the session of the Assembly in the marble hall of the Ayuntamiento, and at the door met Governor General Smith, who “was himself a fighting Irishman”–Smith said to him: “Well, young man, you had quite a good time yesterday. Let me offer you a piece of advice–there is nothing worse than being ignored by the press; if they won’t praise you, pay them to attack you.” Osmeña said nothing to Quezon about the incident.

Visit to President Coolidge. Former Governor General Forbes told Quezon that in due time, Coolidge would be recognized as the greatest President next to Lincoln. Quezon remarked to me that he thought he was the worst “not even except Harding.” He described a visit with Osmeña to Coolidge in the White House. It was Osmeña’s first President; he bought a suit for the occasion and bowed low when entering the presence. Quezon continued: “After 10 minutes I saw that Sergio was beginning to revise his estimate. This was not one of Coolidge’s best days. He drawled and gulped and nobody could make sense out of anything he said. When we left the White House, Sergio said ‘Chico! Caramba! so that’s a President of the United States.'”

Quezon’s revision of Hare-Hawes-Cutting Bill: The provision of the indefinite retention of the American Army in the Philippines after independence was granted seemed to Quezon to make “independence” (a) futile–for had not the Army “betrayed” an American Governor General? What would they do when a Filipino became the head of state? “Suppose Don Sergio for example were the first President of an independent Philippines, what would happen? Directly after his inauguration he would perhaps wish to rest after the ceremonies and take a drive. He would go to Fort McKinley, outside Manila, and perhaps be halted by a sentry and turned back.”

The provision was moreover (b) dangerous--and would be liable to create incidents between the United States and the Philippines. Moreover, though at the time they naturally did not make this statement, there was the challenge to Japan in the continued presence of the U.S. Army in the Philippines. He thinks this requirement was a product of American imperialism.

So, he wired Osmeña and Roxas in Washington to await his arrival there and added that if they could convince him that the bill was wise, he would support it. This they failed to do. Senator Harry Hawes, one of the joint authors of the act, gave a luncheon for the Philippine delegation at which Joe Robinson, the floor leader of the Senate was present. Having listened to the discussion at the table, Robinson finally said with some show of anger–and he was a man of sudden anger and violence: “I’ve had enough of all this–you can take the law as it is, or leave it.” Quezon rose and said: “Then I’m through, we won’t accept the law.” He left and returned at once to the Philippines. Before Robinson’s death, a little later, the senator paid a handsome tribute to Quezon.

Upon his return to Manila, Quezon got the legislature to reject the law by more than a two-thirds’ vote. He told the caucus that they would have to “get rid” of Osmeña (the Vice President) as head of the senate (sic) and of Roxas as Speaker. There was much hesitation among them since the people were so anxious for independence that there was general support for the law. So Quezon told them: “You leave it to me–the popular support here for Osmeña and Roxas will not last thirty days.” Then Quezon offered his own resignation as President of Senate, which was refused by a large majority. Roxas, that evening, did not wait for the vote; he resigned as Speaker of the House of his own accord. He was “chaired” by the students at the University and said later that “he had fallen from the speakership into the arms of the people.” Quezon commented publicly that when Roxas had fallen into the arms of the students, he had picked out those of a pretty girl in the crowd–Quezon added that he wouldn’t mind that kind of a fall, himself. During the controversy, Quezon made no personal attacks nor reflections on either Osmeña or Roxas. The Hare-Hawes-Cutting law was overwhelmingly rejected by the legislature.

Religious Instruction in the Public Schools: Taft as the first Civil Governor had passed a law permitting this, but it was very ambiguous in its terms, and never put into effect. (N.B. this, and Taft’s visit to the Vatican, plus the “Friar Land Purchases” had a great deal to do with the re-election of Theodore Roosevelt in 1904. I was campaigning on the state ticket in New York in that election and knew of the immense activity–undercover–of the Catholic priests against our ticket headed by Alton B. Parker. F.B.H.)

Quezon says that when Laurel, Roxas and Recto were framing the constitution of the Philippine Commonwealth, Taft’s “religious instruction” proposition was inserted in the articles. The first session of the National Assembly, in the early winter of 1935-6, passed by 90 votes a law to this effect. Quezon vetoed the act on the ground that it was unconstitutional. Chief Justice Avanceña, whose advice he took privately, backed him up, but the act was never re-passed over Quezon’s veto, so never came before the courts. Avanceña went down to his home province of Iloilo to explain this matter to his sisters, who had brought him up and educated him. They had kept a school there since Spanish days, and were intensely religious. Avanceña did not broach the subject to his sisters but went to the priests who were those who “confessed” them, and explained to them the constitutional point. Then, after satisfying them, he arranged with them to come to dinner and to have one of them raise the question quite casually at the table.

Quezon was dictating to Canceran the chapter of his book on his birth and childhood. Great was my surprise at the primitive conditions at Baler 60 years ago: no market–everybody raised, or shot or caught their own food or exchanged their crops for venison and pork. Few shotguns; most of the people were armed only with spears or bow and arrows, etc. He replied: “Inferiority complex of the Filipinos never has permitted them to tell the truth about their primitive conditions in Spanish days. I shall be the first.” (Vivid contrast here with the profusion, extravagance and disregard of expenditure in which he has lived during the Commonwealth; instead of resenting this, the Filipino are probably proud of all this reckless display–I’ve never heard him express the view that anything he wanted was too expensive. F.B.H.)

July 1, 1942

Quezon’s description of his visit to the island of Mactan (off Cebu) with Secretary of Public Works Cuenco and the Governor of the Province: they took him over the magnificent new road to the barrio where they had erected a statue to Lapu-Lapu the local datu who had killed Magellan. Quezon turned to them and remarked that Lapu-Lapu was not the first independista, but was really no better than a local “head-hunter,” that the inscription on the statue was not based on historical truth; the fight in which Magellan lost his life was merely a struggle between two local chieftains. As for this fine road, it was just part of Osmeña’s program of spending the Commonwealth’s money down here to get all the votes in the barrio.

He then turned to a description of his relations with Osmeña in the latter years of my (F.B.H.’s) administration. In 1916 Quezon came back to the Philippines with the Jones Law in his pocket and was at once elected President of the Senate; not only did I (F.B.H.) try to push him forward towards the leadership, but his Senators from the very beginning bucked against the old protocol by which the Speaker of the House (Assembly) had been established as N° 1 Filipino and N° 2 in the Islands after the Governor General. Quezon says that he had originally had himself elected as Osmeña’s lieutenant against the latter’s wishes. When he came back in 1916 with the Jones Law, he knew he could beat Osmeña but he really felt that Osmena was the better man to head the nation; Quezon felt himself inferior to Osmeña especially in the realm of government finance.

Council of State. This was a maneuver of Osmeña to perpetuate himself in power. When he first showed the original draft of the proposed Executive Order creating Council of State, it was so drawn that the Council was to sit under Osmeña’s presidency without the Governor General being present. Quezon told Osmeña at once I would never agree to this. They came with the proposed order to Malacañan together. Osmeña made the suggestion that the Council sit without the Governor General. Quezon says: my face grew fiery red, and I stated “Not over my dead body.” Then there was a pause which to Quezon seemed to last an hour, so finally he remarked: “It’s a fine day, Governor.” Quezon had often told this story to “old timers” when they maintained that I had been “run” by Osmena and Quezon. He always said that I was the most independent of all the American Governors General with the possible exception of Stimson.

Quezon then went on to talk of the entertainment fund which I had asked the legislature to set up for my successors just before I left the Philippines. Quezon remarked that I had paid for all my entertainments; Taft’s brother paid for his; Smith gave one fiesta and then got himself appointed a Federal Judge. Quezon said Wood profited from the fund–I remarked “poor man, he surely needed it,” but Quezon replied “It was terrible because it made Wood stay on so long in the Philippines.” His Vice Governor Gilmore charged the government 3 pesos for every private guest whom he entertained.

Governor General Smith was described by Quezon as a “simple, openhearted man,” who was closest to the Filipinos of any of them before I came. He had been selected as Governor General by Cardinal Gibbons, and was so devout a Catholic that he used to confess to the Jesuits in Manila, who thought they could run him. But a year and a half after Smith’s appointment. Cardinal Gibbons said he would never ask for a Catholic again. Smith stood up so straight against pressure that he leaned over backwards.

June 25, 1942

Quezon is very much exercised because he found that the Army Intelligence Service had discovered that Colonel Andres Soriano, his Secretary of Finance, had been one of Franco’s fascists. And now they were investigating the loyalty of Soriano and of Quezon himself. Quezon busy dictating a strong letter of protest to Secretary of War Stimson. The letter was sent by hand. Quezon called the Secretary of War personally on the telephone, and Stimson replied: “Don’t take them seriously.” Quezon: “But I do–very.” Stimson: “Well, then, let me tell you a story: when I entered the Army in 1917 they at once put me in the intelligence division. The first afternoon I was there, I read that every second man I knew was a ‘spy.’ I’ll call in General Strong and give him hell.” Quezon added that the Army Intelligence is also investigating a foreign ambassador in Washington.

Pacific War Council that day.

Roosevelt said that the reason the Atlantic Charter had omitted all reference to freedom of religion was because neither Churchill, (who was present at the meeting) nor he, had thought enough about religion to remember to put it in. (N.B. this was disingenuous in view of the photograph published at the time showing Churchill and Roosevelt sitting side-by-side on the deck of the Prince of Wales singing each from a hymn book.) Roosevelt added: “Churchill and I forgot it–that is the fact, but I couldn’t very well admit that.”

Roosevelt remarked that King Peter of Yugoslavia was interested only in the Hollywood girls. “I’ll have to send for a couple of them.”

Quezon says that at the Pacific War Council Churchill looked across the table in a puzzled way at him, but when he heard Roosevelt refer to him by name, he had a look of interest and after the meeting, came around the table and shook hands saying: “I’ve never had a chance to meet you before and I am very glad of the present opportunity to congratulate you on the gallant fight put up by your people. We consider it to have been a very great contribution to the war effort.”

Harry Hopkins said to Quezon: “I see you are the best dressed man on the Council.” The Minister from New Zealand expressed doubt. Quezon replied: “I heard a radio speech in English from a Japanese saying that the Filipinos had lost all their virtues as Oriental people due to the influence of Spain and the United States. All that they care about now is to be well-dressed, so that people will look at them.” Hopkins got quite red–he has no sense of humour, which Roosevelt, on the other hand, has in such abundance.

Roosevelt minimized the taking of the two outermost of the Aleutian Islands by the Japanese, but added: “I don’t know what my friend Mackenzie King thinks of it–he lives nearer than I do.” Mackenzie King did not seem to be so unconcerned over it as was Roosevelt.

Roosevelt was asked if he was sure of the victory of his party in the coming Congressional elections–he said “Well–no. But I was Governor of New York with a Republican Senate, a Republican House; and I think I can kid them along.”

National Defense Act of the Philippines. Quezon said: “As soon as I had agreed with the President and Congressional leaders on a new independence law (Tydings-Mc-Duffie Act) which eliminated the provision for keeping the United States Army in the Philippines after independence should be attained, I realized the responsibility we had assumed for the defense of the Philippines. During the last world war, we had organized a Philippine National Guard, but American Army leaders had never encouraged the maintenance of this. So, this time, I realized that my first task would be to prepare the Philippines when free to assume the responsibility for its own defense. I went at once to see General Douglas MacArthur in Washington; he was the best informed–the one man to advise me. The following conversation ensued:

“Q.: ‘General, I wish to ask you some questions and I hope you will answer them fully or not at all–be very frank. Do you think the Philippines if independent can be effectively defended against a first class power?’

“MacA.: ‘I not only think so, but I know so.’

“Q.: ‘Would you be willing to assume the responsibility of preparing the Philippines to defend itself?’

“MacA.: ‘Yes, if the President will allow me.’

“Q.: ‘How much do you think it would cost?’

“MacA.: ‘How much are you now spending on the Constabulary?’

“Q.: ‘About 6,000,000 pesos annually.’

“MacA.: ‘Add to that 10,000,000 pesos each year for ten years–it can be done.’

“Q.: ‘Yes. If I am elected president, that very day I will wire inviting you to come to the Philippines at once.’

“We next agreed that an American law then in force authorizing the President to send, on request, military missions to the South American countries should be amended to extend also to the Philippines.”

Quezon added to me: “I saw Roosevelt again and asked him to let me have MacArthur, and to have this law amended; that was done before I left Washington.

“I was then very much encouraged as to our national defense problem. I believed every word MacArthur said, and felt very confident. But I suspected that the War Department was not very enthusiastic over our plan; I felt this still more so when my friend General Harbord came to Manila a couple of years later; he said nothing about the Philippine Army–either for or against.

“Back in the Philippines, I went for everybody who criticized our National Defense Act. But when in 1939, I saw Czecho-Slovakia and Poland fall–saw Germany defeat them so easily though they had far more by way of defense than we could acquire even at the end of ten years, I began to weaken. I then told the Cabinet that I feared I was spending more money on the National Defense than was justified. If nations like Poland and Czecho-Slovakia can be overwhelmed so quickly, it is possible they would also do it to us. Better, perhaps for us not to waste so much money.

“So, I began to hesitate; I told MacArthur and Sayre. Upon one occasion I made a statement to newspaper men that I was not as confident as I had been before of the ability of an independent Philippines to defend itself against a first class power. MacArthur did not contradict my newspaper statement, but he never lost faith in his work. I called him before the Cabinet and told him my doubts as to the effectiveness of our plans. He replied that he had always taken it for granted that our own defense would be implemented by the United States Navy.

“Of course, my concern was not over the situation of the Philippines so long as we remained under the flag of the United States. I felt first, that no other nation would dare to attack the United States, and, second, that in case of attack, we would not have to rely upon ourselves alone, that the prime responsibility for the Philippines would rest on the United States. Whatever we might have would be just that much help.

“At the beginning of November 1940, I gave notice to all Americans in the service of the Commonwealth that I could not commit myself to them beyond my own term of Office–so they all had a year’s notice before the election of November 10, 1941. I added: ‘I am not a candidate for re-election.’ I had no disagreement whatever with MacArthur; I intended to keep him but would not commit myself or tell him so. He asked me ‘What will you do if you are re-elected?’ I refused to explain and said to him, ‘If you find something you find more satisfactory, take it.’

“The result of the election of November 1941 was much bigger than before. Only Sumulong ran against me. He died later when I was in Corregidor.”

June 22, 1942

Shoreham Hotel.

Quezon returned from a conference with Secretary Ickes, whom he greatly likes.

He is getting more interested every day in composing ideas for his book, which I am glad to see. Today, he expressed his wish not to have any controversial subjects in this war story, but will save them for the biography he wishes to write later. He may insert Japanese atrocity stories of their invasion of the Philippines, but only “as told to him”–not as being of his knowledge true. This settles neatly a ticklish question of policy.

Quezon observed that Assistant Secretary of State Sumner Welles is more “effective” than our old friend Hull, and believes it best to sound him out first on any plans for the future of the Philippines.

Stated that he had told ex-Vice Governor Hayden that in his book he had been so kind about him that he felt he could say in criticism only that Hayden appeared to be an adherent of Governor General Wood–“You are still a Republican”–Hayden reddened. Quezon told him that the theory that Leonard Wood had “saved” Philippine finances was ridiculous. “If I had not stopped him, he would have thrown away assets worth three hundred million pesos in the Philippines.” Hayden replied “I suppose you mean the railroad, bank, etc.”

Lord Halifax had given Quezon a luncheon. This was the day after Quezon’s first appearance upon the Pacific War Council. Halifax said to Quezon at luncheon: “I liked your remark to the press.” Quezon said he liked Lady Halifax better than he did her husband. She had told Halifax after luncheon: “You’d better have a talk with President Quezon–You may learn something.”

Mrs. Quezon who was then present with us, had just attended a luncheon given for her by Mrs. Sayre. Sayre is about to resign as High Commissioner. She told Mrs. Quezon that there had been a broadcast from Manila in May arranged by the Japanese. In it an American lady told how the American civilian prisoners at Santo Tomas in Manila were allowed to establish their own form of government; had their own entertainments and their own schools for their children. Exercise was allowed daily in Santo Tomas grounds etc. She then added that their chief concern was that they had no milk for their children–at this point a Japanese spokesman interrupted and said: “That is the fault of the Americans for destroying all supplies before we arrived.” I asked Mrs. Quezon if it was true that they had destroyed all the food supplies before going to Corregidor, and she replied “Of course.”

I then asked Quezon further about his famous luncheon with the Japanese Emperor in 1937–whether the Emperor had offered him any “special treaties” (n.b. this was one of the questions recently submitted to Quezon by the Cosmopolitan). He said “no.” I asked him whether Ambassador Grew’s annoyance with this whole affair had not changed the United States Government’s attitude toward Quezon for a time. He said not; that President Roosevelt and Secretary Hull were all right, but that he might have had some enemies, like Stanley Hornbeck, the “Far Eastern expert” in the State Department. Denied that the State Department had interfered to spoil his subsequent trip to Mexico; that the Mexican President had sent him his gorgeous $500,000 train,–“like a hotel” to convey him to Mexico City.

Told the story of his shift in plans during his escape to Australia in going from Dumaguete by speed boat with Lieutenant Bulkeley across to Mindanao. Wainwright had wired him that there were five Japanese destroyers in the straits, and it was inadvisable to go now–better to postpone. But Colonel Soriano together with Major Fernando of the Philippine Army Air Corps had just spent several hours in one of those old planes off Negros waters. They had sighted only one Japanese destroyer, which at 6 p.m. had gone off towards the Sulu Sea. So, after midnight, when he and his family, having received Wainwright’s warning message, had gotten nearly all the way back from Dumaguete to Bais (20 miles), Soriano caught up with them in the dark, and he and Bulkeley advised Quezon to turn around again and take the chance of getting across that night to Mindanao. Quezon accepted.

To an enquiry as to whether Mrs Quezon ever expressed her opinions about such decisions on this dangerous voyage; he replied: “Never; she always did just what I decided.” I then enquired how he had felt about the possibility of his capture by the Japanese? He said he did his best to avoid capture, but he always felt that if taken by them, they would treat him with every consideration, and probably put him right back in Malacañan.

He added that he thought Chief Justice Jose Abad Santos had gotten caught by the Japanese in Cebu. (N.B. they shot him there).

Exchange of cables between Quezon in Corregidor and Roosevelt: Quezon advised him that he was in grave doubts as to whether he should encourage his people to further resistance since he was satisfied that the United States could not relieve them; that he did not see why a nation which could not protect them should expect further demonstrations of loyalty from them. Roosevelt in reply, said he understood Quezon’s feelings and expressed his regret that he could not do much at the moment. He said: “go ahead and join them if you feel you must.” This scared MacArthur. Quezon says: “If he had refused, I would have gone back to Manila.” Roosevelt also promised to retake the Philippines and give them their independence and protect it. This was more than the Filipinos had ever had offered them before: a pledge that all the resources and man power of United States were back of this promise of protected independence. So Quezon replied: “I abide by your decision.”

I asked him why he supposed Roosevelt had refused the joint recommendation of himself and MacArthur. He replied that he did not know the President’s reasons. Osmena and Roxas had said at the time that he would reject it. Roosevelt was not moved by imperialism nor by vested interests, nor by anything of that sort. Probably he was actuated by unwillingness to recognize anything Japan had done by force (vide Manchuria). Quezon thinks that in Washington only the Chief of Staff (General Marshall) who received the message from MacArthur in private code, and Roosevelt himself, knew about this request for immediate independence.

When Quezon finally got to the White House, Roosevelt was chiefly concerned about Quezon’s health. Roosevelt never made any reference to their exchange of cables.

Quezon added that, so far as he was aware, the Japanese had never made a direct offer to the United States Government to guarantee the neutrality of the Philippines, but many times they made such an offer to him personally.

“It was not that I apprehended personally ill treatment from the Japanese” said Quezon; “What made me stand was because I had raised the Philippine Army–a citizen army–I had mobilized them in this war. The question for me was whether having called them, I should go with this army, or stay behind in Manila with my people. I was between the Devil and the deep sea. So I decided that I should go where the army did. That was my hardest decision–my greatest moral torture. I proposed by cable to President Roosevelt that the United States Government should advise the Japanese that they had granted independence to the Philippines. This should have been done before the invasion and immediately after the first Japanese attack by air. The Japanese had repeatedly offered to guarantee the neutrality of an independent Philippines. This was what they thought should be done.” Quezon is going to propose the passage by Congress of a Joint Resolution, as they did in the case of Cuba, that “the Philippines are and of right out to be independent” and that “the United States would use their armed forces to protect them.”

When asked by Shuster to try to describe his own frame of mind when he was told at 5:30 a.m. Dec. 8 of the attack on Pearl Harbor, Quezon said he had never believed that the Japanese would dare to do it; but since they had done so, it was at once evident that they were infinitely more powerful than had been supposed– therefore he immediately perceived that the Philippines were probably doomed.

In Washington the other day, he asked the Chinese Ambassador whether the Japanese had not fooled all the rest of the world by pretending to be weak. The ambassador just laughed. Quezon says that if consulted, he would have advised the Chinese to take a leaf from the Japanese book on cunning. The Japanese had been checked in their expansion plans three times, (after each of their three successful wars), by the concert of Great Powers–each time they “bowed their head” and submitted. Finally, after waiting nearly half a century, their chance had come, and they took it. So, if the Chinese, at the time the “China Incident” broke had pretended to submit, then allowed themselves to be armed and trained by the Japanese, they would only have had to wait their chance.

June 15-16, 1942

Quezon tells me that when he went to Corregidor on December 24 last, part of the “doubts” about the policy he should adopt were based upon the possibility of a declaration by the Japanese of Philippine independence. This thought was, for him, a “nightmare.” We would have been left in an impossible situation, for if he accepted, the United States would have turned against him, and if he refused, his own people might have repudiated him. He thought that if, after the Burma campaign, the Japanese had proclaimed the independence of India, it would have started a revolution there.

It was not until he got to the Visayas after February 20th and had talked to people down there, and especially with those who at the risk of their lives, had escaped from Luzon, that he was able to gauge the real sentiments of his people. Among these was Tomas Confesor, who had escaped from Bauang in a boat provided by the “Quisling” Mayor of the town, who had been selected by the Japanese to replace the constitutionally appointed mayor, since the latter had been killing all the Japs he could get at. “Incidentally,” said Quezon, “these Filipino ‘Quislings’ were like those Filipino officials appointed by the American Army during the Philippine insurrection–they would do everything in their power to aid their own fellow countrymen.”

At my request, Quezon told me of his conversation in Malacañan with Litvinoff, the Russian diplomat, just before the war. The Russian warned him very seriously: “Be on your guard”–the same advice he then gave to General MacArthur and to Admiral Hart. Quezon thought highly of Litvinoff and says he believes the Russians knew more about Japan than the Japanese knew of Russia.

To turn back to a description of public sentiment in the Philippines, Quezon said he had known of course that he could get the Filipinos to raise an army, and he did. He also had been positive that he could bring the Filipinos into the war against Japan if their country were invaded–and he did so. But further than that, he could not tell, without full consultation with them, whether they would take any part in the “rising tide of color,” which is a movement sponsored by Japan as “Asia for the Asiatics.” But when he got out of Corregidor he learned how profound and widespread among the people was the spirit of resistance to the Japanese, and how deep was the hatred of the Filipinos for then. They had even threatened to kill Vargas, though they well knew that he, Quezon, had asked Vargas to stay there and care for Filipino interests as acting Mayor of Greater Manila. That if the Japanese now withdrew most of their forces from the Philippines for use elsewhere, leaving only a small garrison in the Islands, the Filipinos would kill every one of them. “For the first time I realized that we are really foreigners in the Orient.” He attributes this largely to their Christian religion. He stressed how deep was now the devotion to the United States of the Filipinos altho they were very angry at the “Old Timers.”

He still thinks that if the independence of the Philippines had been declared by Japan; that would have caused a revolution in India.

Quezon is seriously considering a plan for declaration of independence of the Philippines now. (N.B. that is what Quezon and MacArthur advised President Roosevelt to do in their Christmas cablegrams from Corregidor).

Quezon repeated his talk with Roosevelt at the signing of the United Nations pact in the White House yesterday by Quezon and by Mexico. This, he thinks is conclusive recognition of the Philippines as a “separate nation.” He thereupon asked Roosevelt if he was going to be admitted as a member of the Pacific War Council. Roosevelt replied that “Halifax wants India to have a seat there.” Quezon instantly answered that there would be a meeting of the Pacific War Council on Wednesday. (Quezon remarked to me that an appointment by the British Government of an Indian to sit on this council would be that of a sort of Quisling.)

So on Tuesday morning Quezon went to see Sumner Welles who spent an hour and ten minutes telling him in perfect Spanish how the Philippines deserved a seat on the Pacific War Council. He said he would find out what Roosevelt had meant, and would let Quezon know by telephone; which he did.

The Philippine President then turned, as he often did, to reflections on the very close co-operation he had enjoyed with General Douglas MacArthur during critical days in the Philippines. He recalled that in all circumstances, and at all times, the general had the most perfect manners and offered him every proper official deference; even later, when they were in Australia, he would never ride on the right of the seat in the motor car. In Melbourne, “where I was nothing, MacArthur would always come to my house to see me. If I visited his office, he would come down the ten stories from his office and stand until I was seated in the motor. He would never give promotions nor send orders to any of my people without first referring the matter to me. This was different from the methods of General Wainwright, who had succeeded to the command on Corregidor when MacArthur was ordered to Australia; he had promoted Manuel Roxas from the rank of Colonel to that of Brigadier General after I left Corregidor. I had deputized Roxas to act for me, but was not consulted as to his promotion, and I objected. The promotion was then not effected. I was the only authority who could fix the ranks in the Philippine Army. Unfortunately, I never had a chance to explain this to Roxas since I then lost all communication with him while he was in the mountains of Mindanao.

“Among my closest advisers during the invasion all, Santos, Osmeña, Yulo, Roxas, etc. played a man’s part. Roxas and Osmeña were the strongest among them for our sticking to the United States.

“As for General Lim, I found that a meeting during that time of strain was necessary with MacArthur, Lim and General Valdes, to curb Lim’s proposals, and to show them that they must not take their important orders from MacArthur while he was only my adviser without consulting me. During that brief period before MacArthur was given full command of the armies, I kept the sole authority to decide important questions.”