The American
Romance in the Philippines
In
1898, the United States went to war against Spain, and once the American Pacific
Squadron had decimated the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay, U.S. troops began to
pour into the Philippines to wage a ground campaign. A remarkably brief ground
war followed, with the U.S. again emerging victorious. The “splendid little war”
between the two western nations resulted in the United States taking possession
of not only the Philippines, but also Cuba, Guam, and Puerto Rico.
Though the U.S. found itself waging a war of pacification against Filipino
nationalists for a few more years, the Philippine islands officially became a
U.S. colony in 1899. Immediately, Americans of all types, not just soldiers,
began to sail to Manila. Government officials arrived to set up a new colonial
government. Teachers arrived and began building new schools. American
businessmen and merchant traders flooded Manila, eager to take advantage of the
extraordinary opportunities a Far East colony had to offer.
Fortunately, writers, reporters, and photographers were among the first American
non-combatants to arrive in the Philippines. A great number of books about the
distant archipelago were promptly published to satisfy a curious and fascinated
American public. Most were replete with photographs, maps, statistical tables
and detailed narratives; in fact, many were so thorough that they were
practically encyclopedias. American writers were also anxious to use the
Philippines in works of fiction, since the islands presented an exotic and
mysterious new vista for their tales of romance and adventure.
Being a history buff and an occasional collector of rare books, I’ve obtained
perhaps a dozen or so of these older tomes. As anyone familiar with this era
would expect, the books are filled with images of soldiers, warships, coconut
trees and nipa huts. But there are also dozens of photographs of Filipinas,
along with lengthy narratives where American writers wax poetic about the beauty
and grace of the “native women”. Thus, it’s apparent that the mystique of the
Filipina is nothing new.
Interestingly, the authors of these books often refer to Filipinas as “natives”,
“Mestizas”, “Spanish Mestizos”, or even “Senoritas”. Mestizo was a term used to
characterize Filipinos of mixed parentage who exhibited typically Spanish or
Chinese physical characteristics. Mestiza was simply a female Mestizo, just as
Filipina is a female Filipino. However, in my opinion, the Mestiza distinction
was superfluous, since “native” Filipinos had been interbreeding with Spanish
colonists and Chinese traders for centuries. As a result, most Filipinos in the
social circles of Manila (a favorite vantage point for American writers) had at
least a few drops of Spanish or Chinese blood coursing through their veins.
On
the other hand, the term “Senorita” appears most frequently in accounts penned
by U.S. soldiers and sailors of that era. It’s easy to understand why. The
Philippines had been a Spanish colony, after all, and most of the women these
men encountered spoke Spanish (in addition to their native tongue). So there
was little reason, initially, for American servicemen to distinguish Filipinas
from other women of the former Spanish Empire.
Filipina, mestiza, senorita...a rose by any other name is still a rose, di ba?
Consider this description of Filipinas in the American book, a "History and
Description of Our Philippine Wonderland," published in 1899:
“The dreamy or the brilliant beauty of the Spanish mestizo women has been
celebrated in a dozen European literatures...The array of handsome women
surprised some Americans...The expensiveness and elegance of a (formal dress) as
worn by one of these beauties recalls the fairy tells of one's childhood...A
lithe and graceful form, soft olive complexion, red lips, pearly teeth,
ravishing black eyes with long eyelashes, and a wondrous wealth of jet black
hair. There are no finer dancers in the world.”
While “the array of handsome women” surprised the Americans initially, it was
only a matter of time before such beauty would be taken for granted. In "The
History and Conquest of the Philippines, " published that same year, an American
writer comments,
“Perhaps more is known of the Mestiza girls than of any other inhabitants of the
island. They are the half-caste people, who are really the prettiest types of
women on the island. They have long flowing hair which reaches almost to the
ground, and its shiny blackness makes it beautiful to see. They too are the
most graceful and noted of the dancers of the island, and there is scarcely a
social function in which they do not figure conspicuously.”
Needless to say, American servicemen in the islands were quick to appraise the
local women, and vice versa. It wasn’t long before American soldiers and
sailors began courting Filipinas, the start of special relationship that was
destined to continue for decades to come. Inspired by these liaisons, around
1900 a gentleman named Charles K. Harris wrote an extremely popular song called,
“My Filipino Baby” about an American sailor and his Filipina girlfriend. The
song was so popular that it would later be recorded by the likes of Earnest
Tubbs, Tex Tyler, George Jones, and Cowboy Copus. Copus took the song to #4 on
the charts in 1946, which is stunning, considering the disdain with which most
country music listeners viewed intercultural relationships fifty years ago. The
acceptance and popularity of this song by that audience speaks volumes about the
reputation of Filipinas.
The lyrics below are from the original Harris version. Keep in mind that in
Harris’ day, “pet” was a term of affection for a boyfriend or girlfriend, and
“making love” implied flirting, dating, or courtship, but not sex. The tune is
wonderful and terribly catchy, so if you can, get your hands on a copy of one of
the recorded versions of the song, also.
When the warships left Manila
Sailing proudly o'er the sea,
All the sailors’ hearts were filled with fond regret.
Looking backward to this island,
Where they spent such happy hours
Making love to every pretty girl they met.
When up stepped a little sailor with his bright eyes all aglow
Sayin', "Take a look at my gal's photograph."
Then the sailors gathered round him just to look upon her
face,
Her smiling face.
And he said, "I love my Filipino Baby."
She's my Filipino baby,
She's my treasure and my pet.
Her teeth are bright and pearly
And her hair is black as jet.
Oh, her lips are sweet as honey
And her heart is true I know.
She's my darlin' little Filipino Baby.
In a little rustic cottage in the far off Philippines,
Dwells a pretty little maiden all alone.
She is thinking of her true love, though he's far across the
sea,
And her heart beats true for him and him
alone.
Then one day he whispered,
"Darlin' I've come back from Caroline
I've come back to claim the only girl I
love."
Then that night there was a wedding while the
ship's crew gathered 'round.
And he wed his little Filipino Baby.
Harris’ song has proven to be timeless. The events it describes were just as
likely to occur in 1990 as they were in 1900. However, relationships between
westerners and Filipinas were more complicated a hundred years ago than today.
Some western commentators suggested that a “white” man and a “native” were
simply too different to ever successfully cohabitate.
Such doubts are evident in a book published in 1902, called, "Daniel Everton,
Volunteer-Regular, A Romance of the Philippines," by Israel Putnam. In this
story, a former American soldier has remained in the Philippines and is
contemplating marriage to a Filipina who is the daughter of a wealthy
landowner. But, influenced by the prevailing attitudes of his time, he’s
worried about the feasibility of such a marriage. In the excerpt below, Everton
expresses his concern to some drinking buddies (Johnson, MacTavish, and
O’Connor) who have spent more time in the islands than he has. Can such a
marriage work?
"A man could doubtless be very happy with a Filipino girl, if he understood
her," Johnson said.
"Hear the man talk!" said MacTavish. "Was there ever a man that understood a
woman?"
"I dare say," replied Everton, "but she doesn't always happen to marry that
particular one."
"Well," said O'Connor, "I wouldn't mind tying up to a native, if I could find
one with a big, rich hacienda and half-a-dozen town houses like the one next
door."
"If the by-proxy bridegroom doesn't show up, you might try your luck with the
Senora Carmen. She ought to be in just the mood to marry again, out of
pique," suggested MacTavish.
"Did you ever meet a native woman who could talk...keep her end up, so to
speak?" inquired Everton.
"Well, rather," replied Johnson. "'They are, by no means the playthings you
might suppose. On the average, they talk quite as well as our women do at
home."
"Oh, come off it! " exclaimed MacTavish, becoming more thoroughly awake than he
had been at any time since tiffin.
"It's true. You've got to take their surroundings into consideration. They
have no life outside of their own little towns, but there's precious little goes
on in those towns that they can't talk about as well as the men."
"You mean, said Everton, "that, having no books, theaters, or other resources of
the outside world, they are necessarily narrow?"
"I might put it that way if I was writing a book on the subject," admitted
Johnson. "However, if they did have all those things they'd make more out of
them than your women do. Why, go into any of their houses; you'll find, say,
fifty books in the place, and almost every girl in the house has read all of
them. Your women may have five thousand, but they don't read any of them."
"What do you mean by our women? " demanded O'Connor. "Do you mean American
girls?
"Yes."
"What do you know about them?"
"I've been in the States - came out that way last time. I spent two days in New
York and two weeks in Chicago."
O'Connor greeted this statement with a derisive laugh, in which Everton joined.
"You may not have met all the brightest American women in that time," suggested
the latter. "I know several who were not in either city at the time."
"I don't say that I did, of course," persisted Johnson, "though I met some very,
nice women. But I know one thing, and that is that a Filipino girl, who had had
the same advantages those girls had, would have made more out of them."
"Education and advantages be damned!" said O'Connor,
positively. "Give me a white skin."
"Oh, if it's beauty you're after," cried MacTavish, "the native women average up
a lot better than the whites."
"What's that got to do with it? No man marries what he considers the 'average'
woman. She's usually the only one of the kind on earth for him."
"What are you men arguing about, anyway?" asked Everton, looking off toward the
Captain of the Port's office and wondering when the mail would be signaled, for
there was one due from the United States. "Do you mean that any one of you men
would marry a native?”
"MacTavish's the oldest," said Johnson. "Therefore, let him be the first to speak."
"I disclaim the seniority," replied the Scotchman, "but don't
mind saying that if I was a
marrying man, and had to live out here, I would as lief marry a native as a
white woman - provided I liked her."
"Put in a few more conditions," sneered Johnson.
"I wonder if a man could take a native woman back home with him," asked Everton.
"Yes, I suppose so. If there was nothing the matter with her
- leprosy or small-pox, for
instance," replied O'Connor. "There's nothing in the immigration laws to
prevent it."
"I mean, would she be received in society?"
"That depends on the society, of course."
Again, I find it remarkable that American writers like Putnam
were making observations a century ago that western men today would be
well-advised to heed:
·
A Filipina is quite capable of “holding her end up” in a conversation
·
Filipinas are not “playthings”
·
Filipinas may have limited resources and educational opportunities in
their homeland, but they take full advantage of any opportunity to learn that
presents itself
·
Filipinas compare favorably to some western women, but it’s
self-injurious for a man to believe that any one category of women is superior
to any other
·
A Filipina should not be married because of her physical beauty, but
because she holds a unique place in the heart of the man who would marry her
·
Whether a western husband’s family and friends (“society”) will accept
his new wife depends largely on the character of the society itself.
In
his 1914 book, "America and the Philippines", writer Carl Crow views the first
decade of the American colonization as a Golden Age of sorts. It was an era, he
tells us, where Filipinos and Americans socialized freely, ignoring the strict
racial divisions that were so prevalent elsewhere in the world at the time.
This meant, of course, that American men were free to socialize with the local
women. He writes,
“During the period just after the war Americans attended parties given by the
prominent Filipinos and danced with the wives and daughters of their hosts. For
a time they were on a social equality and it appeared that all men were really
free and equal just as they are in the Constitution of the United States and
nowhere else.”
Yet
Crow laments that this paradise was soon to be spoiled. As the Philippines grew
more politically stable and thus safer for foreigners, the wives and families of
the American men in the Philippines began to arrive by ship. If the author is
to be believed, the arrival of foreign women in the Philippines meant an end to
the social and racial equalities that had been enjoyed by Filipinos to that
point.
“Enter, then, the American woman. Peace had been secured and wives came out to
join their husbands. At once another campaign against the Filipinos began. The
social barriers set up by the American woman were quite as impregnable as those
their hero husbands had built against the insurrectos (Filipino
insurrectionists). The engagement was short but decisive, and ended with a
second defeat for the Filipinos, for they were barred from the American drawing
rooms...The American man, as usual, allowed his wife to regulate his social
affairs, and as a result no Filipino is admitted to the clubs, and there is no
place in Manila where the two races can meet socially on an equal footing.”
Thus, in Crow’s view, the arrival of American women in the Philippines was
directly responsible for the segregation of Filipinos and Americans. Should a
reader be unclear as to this accusation, Crow states with more emphasis that,
“The social seclusion of the American woman (i.e., her unwillingness to
socialize with Filipinos) would not be so deplorable if there was any
justification for it, other than race prejudice!”
Very strong words! But, if Crow is correct, isolating Filipinos wasn’t enough.
Not only were Filipinos (and thus, Filipinas) prohibited from socializing with
Americans, any American who dared to marry a native was also punished. He
reports,
“(Spaniards) not infrequently married a native woman of the better class...such
a marriage as this did not shut him out of Spanish society, though this is the
fate of the American who marries a Filipino.”
Clearly Mr. Crow had some issues with American women, as do many American men
today. In fact, many modern men actually seek Filipina wives because of a
pronounced disdain for the women of their own countries. As I’ve stated
elsewhere in this book, however, I believe that it’s improper to categorically
condemn an entire nation of women. After all, most of us Americans (for
example) have mothers, grandmothers, and sisters who are American, also, and we
usually think very highly of them. Logically, it’s not possible for every man’s
mother to be the sole exception to the rule that the women of his country are
not worth marrying. It just doesn’t make sense.
Incidentally, our friend, Mr. Crow, dedicated his book, “To My Mother.”
Is it possible she was the last good woman in America...? I don’t think so.
(End of book excerpt – if
you’d like the entire text, please consider ordering
The ASAWA Guide to Fil-West
Relationships. Thank you!)