MIAMI UNIVERSITY the Graduate School

MIAMI UNIVERSITY The Graduate School

Certificate for Approving the Dissertation

We hereby approve the Dissertation

Don Charles Murray

Candidate for the Degree

Doctor of Philosophy

______Kate Rousmaniere, Director

______Kathleen Knight Abowitz, Reader

______Michael Evans, Reader

______Thomas Misco, Graduate School Representative

ABSTRACT

COSMOPOLITANISM AND CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION:

THE NORMATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF COSMOPOLITANISM AS EXAMINED THROUGH THE CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION SITE OF THE PHILIPPINE- AMERICAN CONFLICT

Don C. Murray

Cosmopolitanism is a normative philosophy that suggests a global community of responsibility. This study further develops cosmopolitanism in conflict-related education settings through a historical examination of the United States’ imperial expansion into the Philippines, the subsequent Philippine-American War, and the accompanying American education restructuring efforts in the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century. This conflict serves as a delimited historical site for research in which a cosmopolitanism- based framework is used to evaluate conflict-related education as an instrument of foreign policy.

Employing the methodologies of historical research and critical policy analysis (CPA), this study draws widely from the literature on cosmopolitanism as well as primary and secondary sources related to the history of the Philippine-American conflict. President William McKinley’s so-called benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898 serves as the foundational historical policy document for this study. A top-level federal policy document, McKinley’s proclamation provides a springboard for critically examining its associated history, politics, philosophy, rhetoric, and educational implications.

This study argues that cosmopolitanism ethics consists of three essential elements: respect, responsibility, and rootedness. Respect recognizes that social justice and moral flourishing can be promoted by traditions and cultures other than one’s own. Responsibility recognizes that one is obliged to take actions to promote social justice and human flourishing beyond their own tribal boundaries. Rootedness, meanwhile, promotes social justice and human flourishing within one’s own culture. It is only when all three components are present that cosmopolitanism ethics are realized.

By prioritizing economic profit, by favoring the American White-settler lived experience, and by actively repressing the history, political will, and agency of the Filipino people, this study argues that McKinley’s proclamation set the stage for the most uncosmopolitan of education systems in the Philippines. Despite McKinley’s rhetorical promise of democratic self-government, American education efforts in the Philippines instead came to follow a time-tested American system of suppressing indigenous culture, of racially separating students into educational tracts, and of creating uncritically patriotic subjects while simultaneously failing to prepare them for self-government.

By providing a framework for shaping and evaluating the ethical application of cosmopolitanism in conflict-related education settings, this study provides context and understanding for present-day conflict-related education undertakings. Through an examination of the past, this study serves to inform and shape the approach of cosmopolitan-minded educators and policymakers in the future.

COSMOPOLITANISM AND CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION:

THE NORMATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF COSMOPOLITANISM AS EXAMINED THROUGH THE CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION SITE OF THE PHILIPPINE- AMERICAN CONFLICT

A DISSERTATION

Presented to the Faculty of

Miami University in partial

fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

Department of Educational Leadership

Don C. Murray

The Graduate School Miami University Oxford, Ohio

2021

Dissertation Director: Kate Rousmaniere

Don Charles Murray

2021

TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I: INTRODUCTION ...... 1 Introduction ...... 1 Why This Scholarship Is Important ...... 3 The Limitations Of This Research: What It Is Not ...... 5 Research Questions ...... 5 CHAPTER II: LITERATURE REVIEW: COSMOPOLITANISM AND PHILIPPINE- AMERICAN CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION ...... 7 Part 1: Cosmopolitanism ...... 7 Cosmopolitanism: An introduction...... 7 Cosmopolitanism: Differentiating closely related terms...... 8 Two camps: Classical cosmopolitanism and new cosmopolitanism...... 11 Cosmopolitanism and geo-politics...... 16 Cosmopolitanism and education...... 18 Cosmopolitanism: Gaps in the literature...... 21 Part 2: The Philippine-American Conflict-Related Education ...... 21 Introduction...... 21 Conflict related themes...... 23 Conflict-related education themes...... 24 Racial themes...... 25 Religious themes...... 26 Economic themes...... 28 Decolonial themes...... 28 Two broad approaches to the literature...... 29 Gaps in the literature...... 31 CHAPTER III: METHODOLOGY ...... 32 Historical Research ...... 32 Historical research: The ambiguity of historical methodology...... 32 Historical research: Historiography...... 33 Historical research: Social memory v. historicism...... 34 Historic research: History as revisionism...... 36 Historical research: Additional approaches...... 37 Historical Research: Source Material...... 38 Historical research: Tensions between historians and historians of education...... 39 Critical Policy Analysis (CPA) ...... 40 Critical vs Traditional Policy Analysis...... 40 CPA: The “underlying concerns” and “key features.”...... 40 Methods (What My Research Actually Does) ...... 41 A few notes on the limitations of this research...... 43

CHAPTER IV: A FRAMEWORK FOR CONCEPTUALIZING COSMOPOLITANISM: RESPECT, RESPONSIBILITY, AND ROOTEDNESS...... 45 Introduction ...... 45 Respect ...... 47 Respect for persons...... 48 Respect versus civility...... 50 Respect for traditions, cultures, and societies...... 52 Responsibility ...... 56 Responsibility-as-attribution...... 56 Responsibility-as-accountability...... 57 Responsibility-as-paternalism...... 59 Rootedness ...... 61 Implications of rootedness...... 61 Challenges of rootedness...... 63 Conclusion ...... 68 CHAPTER V: A HISTORICAL / CRITICAL POLICY ANALYSIS OF PRESIDENT MCKINLEY’S BENEVOLENT ASSIMILATION PROCLAMATION ...... 69 An Introduction To And A Short History Of The Philippine-American Conflict ...... 69 A Timeline of Selected Events ...... 72 The themes of McKinley’s proclamation: Sovereignty, economy, beneficence...... 81 Analysis, coding, and graphic representation...... 83 Sovereignty ...... 88 The political spectacle of George Dewey, American super-agent...... 88 The mock battle of Manila and Filipino subalternity...... 90 Filipino agency and the Philippine Declaration of Independence...... 93 A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s sovereignty...... 97 Economy ...... 98 Economy (Part 1): William McKinley, from protectionist to jingoist...... 98 Economy (Part 1, continued): The Monroe Doctrine, realpolitik...... 102 Economy (Part 2): Economy and the Trojan horse of freedom...... 107 Economy (Part 2, continued): Land reform and education...... 108 The impact on education funding...... 113 A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s economy...... 114 Beneficence ...... 116 The American “come over and help us” fantasy...... 117 Benevolence and the ethic of realism...... 118 The violence of beneficence...... 121 A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s beneficence...... 125 Conclusion ...... 125 CHAPTER VI: COSMOPOLITANISM AND CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION IN THE PHILIPPINES ...... 127

Histories of American Imperial Education ...... 127 The Thomasites ...... 130 The manual-industrial curriculum...... 131 English as the language of instruction...... 135 Cosmopolitanism in Education ...... 139 CHAPTER VII: CONCLUSIONS ...... 142 Cosmopolitanism and Conversation ...... 142 Cosmopolitanism: Responsibility and Land Reform ...... 145 Cosmopolitanism: Respect and Third Culture ...... 147 Cosmopolitan Conversation and the Honest Broker ...... 149 Rootedness: America’s Ongoing Contest ...... 152 Education as Conflict-Related Political Spectacle ...... 154 Revisiting the Research Questions...... 156 Closing ...... 158 References ...... 159

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LIST OF TABLES

Table 1. A Comparison of Cosmopolitan Related Terms ...... 10 Table 2. Summarizing the Three Rs of Cosmopolitanism...... 67 Table 3. President McKinley's Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (with sentence numbering and color coding) ...... 85 Table 4. President William McKinley’s Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (listing instances of each theme by sentence number) ...... 86

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 1: President William McKinley’s Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (listing instances of each theme by sentence number) ...... 87

DEDICATION

To all who work to realize a more just and peaceful world.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I want to thank everyone who helped me along this journey.

To my fellow students at Miami University, I can’t say enough to the many of you who helped me wrestle with the big ideas of educational leadership.

To the faculty and staff of Miami University’s Educational Leadership Department, thank you for creating and sustaining a life-changing program of study. To Dr. Tom Poetter, thank you for your early belief in my academic potential; I only hope that I can pass a fraction of your natural enthusiasm and encouragement to my own students. To Dr. Brittany Aronson, thank you for creating a teaching assistant experience that challenged me to grow and that sparked my own research ideas; the experience of teaching your course left indelible marks throughout my dissertation. To my pre-dissertation advisor, Dr. Michael Evans, thank you for guiding me through the program requirements and for your always insightful professional advice. To my dissertation advisor, Dr. Kate Rousmaniere, thank you for introducing me to the field of education history and for patiently helping me through the many rocky paths of the dissertation process. Also, Dr. Kate, thank you for enthusiastically lending an ear to my many brainstorming sessions as I chased numerous shiny academic objects before finally landing on a dissertation topic. And to my un-official advisor, sometimes supervisor, and sometimes co-instructor, Dr. Kathleen Knight Abowitz, thank you for introducing me to cosmopolitan ethics and the overall field of ethics in education. To say the least, your pedagogy and guidance has inspired life change.

My other big thank you is to family. To my parents, Eldon and Anna Lee, thank you for the foundations that you provided to me as a child; I attribute any success I’ve had in life to the start that you gave me. To my in-laws, Marlin and Gayle, thank you for your support over the last several years; your unselfish generosity (in the form of grandparent childcare) made my studies possible. To my children, Ethan and Logan, I love you guys; thank you for enduring my dinnertime ramblings about educational ethics, cosmopolitanism, social justice, and the Philippine-American War.

By far my biggest acknowledgment and thank you, though, is to my wife and partner of 27 years. Marla, through thick and thin, you have always been my biggest source of encouragement and strength. Thank you for being my earliest editor as I found my academic footing. Thank you for supporting the opportunity cost, in terms of time and money, that the pursuit of this degree has meant for our family. And thank you for helping me through the sometimes-difficult periods of intellectual, moral, and spiritual growth that this journey demanded. I owe everything to your love, generosity, and support.

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CHAPTER I: INTRODUCTION

Introduction Cosmopolitanism, or being a citizen of the world, is a normative philosophy that suggests a global community of responsibility. In this dissertation I further develop this philosophy through a historical examination of the United States’ imperial expansion into the Philippines, the subsequent Philippine-American war, and the accompanying American education restructuring efforts in the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century (events that I collectively refer to as the Philippine-American conflict). The Philippine-American conflict serves as a delimited historical site for research in which nation-state activities such as colonialism in education, educational restructuring, educational intervention, and the use of education as an instrument of foreign policy are used to explore and develop the ethic of cosmopolitanism. Employing the methodologies of historical research and critical policy analysis (CPA), I draw widely from the literature on cosmopolitanism as well as primary and secondary sources related to the Philippine-American conflict. President William McKinley’s so-called benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898 serves as the foundational historical policy document for this study. McKinley’s policy provides a springboard for examining its surrounding history, politics, philosophy, rhetoric, and implications as they relate to cosmopolitanism. I have chosen to research the Philippine-American conflict and this historic policy document for several reasons. In sixteen sentences, the benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898 constitutes an early presidential order to the United States’ (U.S.) military commander in Manila that, from the American colonizer’s vantage point, was ostensibly intended to establish the conditions for peace and prosperity in the Philippines. In effect, however, this policy document almost singularly set the tone for hostile Philippine-American relations as it ushered in years of war and conflict that were accompanied by an anti-cosmopolitan colonial education system. Additionally, the Philippine-American conflict marks the earliest example of a massive overseas education effort by the United States (U.S.) federal government. Never before had the U.S., at the federal level, deployed such a directed and concentrated educational restructuring effort on a subjugated people outside of North America or in territories that would not later constitute the United States. To legally contextualize America’s hitherto unprecedented

imperialistic behavior, a 1901 United State Supreme Court went so far as to introduce a new legal term, “unincorporated territory,” to refer to areas of the U.S. (like the occupied Philippines) in which the U.S. constitution would be only selectively applied (Burnett, 2005; Department of the Interior, n.d.). Moreover, American education efforts in the Philippines were undeniably complimentary of American military efforts. In some cases, and especially in its earliest iterations, American education was provided directly by the U.S. Army with soldiers serving as classroom teachers and school administrators. Regardless if the tactic was schooling or combat, both directly served the political agenda of Washington. Finally, education during the Philippine-American conflict provided a template for future American endeavors (both educationally and militarily). As Asian-American Studies scholar Luis Francia (2014) notes, “the [U.S.-Philippine] war set a familiar pattern for U.S. intervention and later conflicts, in Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq” (p. 54). Given this history, it seems likely that the Philippines will continue to provide precedence, inspiration, and lessons for future conflict-related endeavors in education. Though this research focuses on a temporally delimited historical site, it is also meant to be forward looking. By complementing “what was” with conjectures of “what if,” we challenge ourselves to reimagine the future of conflict-related education. Yet, my hopes for such scholar- activism are modest. This research is not meant to produce (small “c”) catholic panaceas. Cosmopolitanism is a particularly poor framework for creating predictable ends. Instead, cosmopolitanism focuses on internal dispositions, means, and processes. Cosmopolitanism demands conversations with Others (Appiah, 2006), but cosmopolitanism cannot dictate where those conversations will go. Cosmopolitanism theorizes that everyone matters,1 and that no one may be rejected from the human community (Appiah, 2006), but it does not demand a universal answer as to how such

1 Although beyond the scope of this research, today’s political climate may warrant a few words on the phrase “everyone matters.” Contextualizing cosmopolitanism as “everyone matters” is NOT a nod to the racist and anti-cosmopolitan “All Lives Matter” retort that is often used in response to the more cosmopolitan “Black Lives Matter” movement. As I will explore in chapter four, contextualizing cosmopolitanism as “everyone matters” includes the ongoing quest for respect, responsibility, and a cultural / social rootedness that focuses on a society’s most disenfranchised and disadvantaged populations and individuals. In its efforts to realize social equity in the United States I would argue that the ongoing Black Lives Matter movement is

a theory is realized. Instead, cosmopolitan-informed solutions unfold in unique ways that are subject to the particular times, places, and people involved. To borrow and rephrase a line from Paulo Freire, cosmopolitanism makes the road by walking it (Horton & Freire, 1990).2 Similarly, to re-appropriate John Dewey's (1927/2012) famous quote regarding democracy, the cure for the ails of cosmopolitanism is more cosmopolitanism.3 In other words, cosmopolitanism is created through the practice of cosmopolitanism. Given the features and limitations of cosmopolitanism, rather than solutions, my modest hope for this scholarship is to suggest better approaches for future conflict-related education endeavors if and when such endeavors are undertaken. “We look back …,” wrote the American educator Anna Julia Cooper (1892/1998), “that we may learn wisdom from experience” (p. 61); and with historical context as a guide, we walk a finer path with one eye to the road already traveled.

Why This Scholarship Is Important The value of such a historical study is that it provides context for present-day understandings and manifestations of cosmopolitanism, especially as cosmopolitanism is realized in foreign policy related education ventures (a.k.a. educational restructuring) by the U.S. as a nation-state. As Noah Sobe (2009) notes, “educational restructuring has been a core feature of a number of American overseas initiatives, from the Spanish-American War of 1898 through the present” (p. 5). Though Americans tend to resist the characterization of their educational efforts overseas as imperialistic, instead preferring the narrative of progress and / or beneficence, educational restructuring efforts have often been a key companion of military interventions. Might we gain a deeper understanding of cosmopolitanism by examining these sites of conflict- related education restructuring? I believe so. As such, I contend that this research is important for several reasons. First, the history of the United States (U.S.) is one of military conflict. History Professor Aaron O’Connell (2020) argues that in the U.S.’s almost 250-year history, “there have been just

cosmopolitan in nature as it seeks to root American (and a wider) society in cosmopolitan cherished values such as social justice and human flourishing. 2 Freire’s “We make the road by walking” paraphrases the Spanish poet Antonio Machado’s line “se hace camino al andar” or “you make the way as you go.” (Horton & Freire, 1990, p. 6) 3 Specifically, “... the cure for the ailments of democracy is more democracy” (Dewey, 1927/2012, p. 121).

two years … during which the U.S. conducted no overt violent military operations abroad or in its territories” (para. 26).4 Even in the era of the “long peace,” the period since WWII devoid of direct conflict between major powers, the U.S. has been involved in numerous regional conflicts and military policing actions. Given this historic trend, conflict seems likely to continue in the future. In these conflicts, education is often used as an instrument of foreign policy. This conflict-related education-as-foreign-policy ranges from the culturally obliterating Native American boarding schools, to the curricular hegemony of English language instruction in the Philippines, to the neoliberal contracting of for-profit education corporations in Afghanistan and Iraq. Secondly, U.S. conflict-related education policy is largely an afterthought. As education professionals are overwhelmingly focused on domestic issues, and as military conflict is often considered unrelated, and perhaps even antithetical, to the scholarship of many educators, education policy associated with conflict is by default shaped by the military or commercial industry (both of which may also have more pressing planning priorities than education). As such, conflict-related education policies have tended to focus on education as a means for economic development and / or the use of schools to control bodies rather than the broader liberatory and democratic ends of education. Additionally, conflict-related education-as-foreign-policy returns home in the form of domestic education policy; and as such, domestic educators ignore the non-domestic educational arena at their own peril. These foreign and domestic education policies connect through people, organizations, corporations, funding, and philosophy, and what happens to one inevitably affects the other. As the political scientist Phillipe Fournier (2011) argues, U.S. foreign and domestic policies should not be viewed separately, as they traditionally have been, but rather as converging and reinforcing of one another. “The deployment of techniques, theories and discourses that define and direct objects of government stretches across the domestic and the foreign policy spectrum” (Fournier, 2011, pp. 169-170). An examination of U.S. education policy in the Philippines supports Fournier’s theses. A deeper understanding of education-as- foreign-policy therefore contributes to a fuller understanding of domestic public education policy as well.

4 Those two years of peace were 1977 and 1979; the post-Vietnam era of the Carter administration (O’Connell, 2020).

Finally, the topic of conflict-related education-as-foreign-policy is addressed by only a handful of scholars, and the use of cosmopolitanism to explore conflict-related education is, based on a review of the literature, unprecedented. Cosmopolitanism provides a framework that may be used to shape and evaluate the ethical application of conflict-related education. By examining the past, this research serves to inform cosmopolitan-minded educational policymakers at conflict-related education sites in the future.

The Limitations Of This Research: What It Is Not For clarity, it may be worth noting what this research is not. It is not a study of the social history of education during the Philippine-American War. It not an analysis of teacher narratives or how education policy affected micro-level classroom pedagogy in conflict zones. It is not strictly a military or political history nor is it unveiling new historical material. Also, it is not directly examining the voices of the oppressed or forms of resistance. This research does, however, draw from each of these areas as they apply to a larger examination and development of cosmopolitanism and conflict-related education. It may also be worth noting that, for this research, education is a term I will embrace in its broadest conception, that is, education as the cross-generational transfer of knowledge, culture, and values. By this, I mean to explicitly state that while my research often uses P-16 schooling to examine education policy, my focus is on the far reaching social and political implications of that policy.

Research Questions Through this research, I hope to explore the following research questions: 1. How might a historical examination of education-related major events and key policy documents from the Philippine-American conflict further develop the ethical philosophy of cosmopolitanism? 2. With the Philippine-American conflict as a historical research site, how might cosmopolitanism be used to interpret and better understand the U.S.’s history of employing conflict-related education as an instrument of foreign policy? That is, how can cosmopolitanism help us better understand the past?

3. Based on an understanding of the Philippine-American conflict, how might the ethic of cosmopolitanism inform and shape conflict-related education policy in the future? That is, how might cosmopolitanism help create a better tomorrow?

I tackle these research questions in the six chapters that follow. Chapter two provides a literature review of both cosmopolitanism and of conflict-related education specific to the Philippine-American conflict. Chapter three discusses the primary methodologies used in this research: historical analysis and critical policy analysis. Chapter four, building on the literature review, develops and presents an original framework for conceptualizing the ethic of cosmopolitanism in terms of three elements: respect, responsibility, and rootedness. Chapter five then employs the methodologies and frameworks of previous chapters to deconstruct and analyze President William McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, arguing that the proclamation is built around three themes (sovereignty, economy, and beneficence) and then examining each of these themes from a cosmopolitanism-oriented position. Chapter six considers how McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation set the conditions for an American imposed anti-cosmopolitanism-oriented education approach to the Philippines in that it reinforced American White settler norms and that it reproduced America’s ongoing mis- educatory domestic school practices related to Native and Black Americans in the U.S. Finally, chapter seven concludes with an exploration of how cosmopolitanism and the lessons of conflict related education specific to the Philippine-American conflict might better inform conflict- related education in the future.

CHAPTER II: LITERATURE REVIEW: COSMOPOLITANISM AND PHILIPPINE- AMERICAN CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION

This literature review is broken into two distinct parts. The first section discusses the history, philosophy, and academic debate surrounding the idea of cosmopolitanism. The second section explores the literature addressing conflict-related education as it applies to the Philippine- American conflict.

Part 1: Cosmopolitanism

Cosmopolitanism: An introduction.

Ever since the Greek Cynic philosopher Diogenes declared himself a kosmopolitan, or citizen of the world, in the 4th century BCE (Eikeland, 2016) the meanings and implications of cosmopolitanism have been debated and contested. For the Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius, cosmopolitanism required a denial of specific attachments (Aurelius, 171-175/1957; Nussbaum, 2008). To the 18th century Prussian philosopher Immanuel Kant, cosmopolitanism included the universal right of hospitality extended to foreign visitors (Kant, 1795/2006; Kleingeld, 2006; Tully, 2014). The Canadian indigenous rights legal scholar James Tully (2014), however, interprets this Kantian cosmopolitanism as a term of oppression used to justify centuries of Western hegemony, imperialism, and colonialism. Meanwhile, the American philosopher Martha Nussbaum (2008) and the Greek philosopher Marianna Papastephanou (2012, 2013, 2016) build on the Greek Stoic Hierocles’s vision of cosmopolitanism as a moral decentering of the Self. To the British political scientist David Held (2003, 2010, 2011), cosmopolitanism is the process of extending democracy in an increasingly globalized world. John Judis (2018), the American political analyst, finds cosmopolitanism reified in international institutions that necessarily temper national sovereignty. For the British / American philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah (2006), cosmopolitanism combines universal concern for the Other with a respect for legitimate difference. Papastephanou (2012), in turn, proposes a minimalist definition of cosmopolitan as a “thoughtful commitment to peace, freedom and good for all” (p. 222). As if to reconcile all of these vastly divergent interpretations, Pollock et al. (2000) note that cosmopolitanism will always remain an emerging concept, continually

requiring discovery and realization; specifying cosmopolitanism “positively and definitely,” they note, would be an “an uncosmopolitan thing to do" (p. 577).

Cosmopolitanism: Differentiating closely related terms.

A few early words on how cosmopolitanism differs from closely related terms such as globalism, internationalism, universalism, and multiculturalism may prove useful. David Held (2010) summarizes globalization as “the widening, intensifying, speeding up, and growing impact of worldwide interconnectedness” (p. 29) particularly in the economic marketplace. In short, globalization is the expansion and increased networking of economic markets without regard to national borders. The term internationalism, meanwhile, refers to international political solutions, particularly for problems that cannot be fully addressed within the borders of a nation-state (for example, international terrorism, international trade, refugee migration, climate change, and pandemics). Internationalism is often realized in multilateral treaties, trade- agreements, and in supranational organizations such as the United Nations and World Trade Organization. Universalism, meanwhile, is the attempt to find global norms, practices, and truths—a homogenous set of values that can be applied equally through all traditions, cultures, and societies. The 1948 United Nation’s Declaration of Universal Human Rights is perhaps the best-known codification of such universal principles. At its best, such universalism promotes transcending local identifications in favor of universally applicable human rights (Levy & Sznaider, 2011). Finally, Carsten Ljunggren (2014) refers to multiculturalism as “the idea that the state should allow minority groups to maintain their identity with a high degree of autonomy” (p. 34). At its core, multiculturalism promotes a tolerance for and literacy of other cultures, especially those cultures found within a given pluralistic society. While cosmopolitanism may manifest in certain realizations of each of these related terms, there are also important distinctions worth noting. Held’s (2010) globalization strives for a market integration and standardization that often deemphasizes notions of respect and justice for the individual that most modern interpretations of cosmopolitanism demand. Noting the inherent injustices of globalization, Zygmunt Bauman (1998) argues that globalization largely serves to reinforce “already existing patterns of domination” as “those in power” are given “even more room to manoeuvre” (p. 39); as such, globalization often works to undermine self- determination and local democratic practices. Internationalism, meanwhile, functions in the

realm of nation-state politics; and while nation-state negotiations may reflect cosmopolitan attitudes, most scholars consider cosmopolitanism to be more importantly realized at a human / personal level. Problematically, internationalism may entirely overlook minoritized groups that are not properly represented by their nation-state governments. Universalism's quest for all- inclusive truths begs the critical question of how such truths are determined and realized. Historically, both liberating and oppressive practices, like parasites, have used universalism as their host, frequently making the rider indistinguishable from the carrier (Knight Abowitz, 2021, personal communication). The unfortunate consequence has often been unilateral intervention (ex., colonialism) in the name of universalism. Consequently, many scholars argue that universalism’s unilateral manifestations have come at the expense of cosmopolitanism’s respect for legitimate difference (Appiah, 2006; Butler, 1996; Todd, 2009; Tully, 2014). In this vein, Zamudio et al. (2010) note that historic realizations of universalism have “always had uneven and unfair effects on different social groups” (p. 109) in that it advantages dominant groups as the “universal standard” while concurrently oppressing minority and minoritized groups. Additionally, Hanna Arendt (1963), Judith Butler (1996), and Sharon Todd (2009) give warning that universal norms (in practice) may not be as liberal or as enlightened as many advocates of universalism (or cosmopolitanism) would hope them to be (it is conceivable that racism, sexism, and homophobia—among other oppressive ideologies—may actually be more universal in practice than not). Finally, multiculturalism can defer to cultures as static and monolithic while failing to account for the internal struggles within cultures. Perhaps even more problematic, multiculturalism frequently acquiesces to the ethical relativity of cultural practices despite the disparity and violence extolled on certain individuals living within a given tradition, culture, or society. Where the fundamental unit of multiculturalism is the culture, the fundamental unit of cosmopolitanism is the individual; and in cosmopolitanism the individual’s status as a human being takes priority over any group (Kim, 2017). The following table provides a summary comparison of these related terms.

Table 1. A Comparison of Cosmopolitan Related Terms

Term a. Primary Field - Promotional Features - Challenges / Concerns - Desired Educational b. Unit of Concern Outcomes c. Primary Tool(s) Cosmopolitanism a. Ethics and morality - A respect for and a - Ethical relativism (treating all cultural - Moral and ethical concern for (though often realized responsibility to Others beliefs / practices as possessing equal Others in the political and that is rooted in one’s moral validity) - Dispositions that recognize a cultural spheres) own particularities - Paternalism shared humanity and extend b. Individuals - Embraces human - “Icy impartiality” (Appiah, 2006) dignity to all c. Conversations / diversity - Erosion of local traditions, cultures, and - Openness to being formed by deliberation / - Moral growth of the communities interactions with Others (and education Self not merely informed about Others) - Active and engaged local and global citizenship Globalization a. Economics - A globally - Reinforces and expands existing - Standardized skill sets b. Multinational standardized inequalities - Abundant and low-cost corporations / supply marketplace - Encourages individual and nation-state workers chains - The broadening of competition for economic exploitation of - Creation / exploitation of c. International trade / economic opportunities Self economic participants and technical schooling - Universal - Local economic insecurity economic competitors employability (not to - Erosion of local traditions, cultures, and be confused with communities universal employment) Internationalism a. Diplomacy - Addresses problems - Limited ability to assign responsibility - Global actors engaged in b. Nation-states, that exceed nation-state or enforce compliance addressing transnational issues supra-national scope / capacity (e.g., - Devalues individuals and groups not - Obedient / submissive citizens institutions, climate change, well represented by their nation-state within standardized and clearly international NGOs international terrorism, governments defined nation-state constructs c. Treaties / pandemics, etc.) - Potential concentrations of power diplomatic resolutions Universalism a. Knowledge - Seeks universal - Devalues particularism, legitimate - Global advocates of basic b. Canon “truths” that can be differences, and local ways of knowing human rights c. Scholarship applied globally - Advantages dominant social groups - Active participants in - Promotes universally while devaluing minority/minoritized validated and standardized (i.e., applicable human groups universalized) knowledge and rights - Assumes universal = beneficent practices Multiculturalism a. Culture - Coexistence - Values the culture over the individual - Tolerance of other cultures b. Cultural canon - Cultural autonomy - Essentialism (individual identities (tolerance should not c. Cultural leaders / within a pluralistic become defined by cultural / tribal necessarily be equated with education nation-state membership) respect) - Often treats culture as static and - Benign consumers of cultural monolithic canon - Ethical relativism (treating all cultural - Creation of cultural minorities beliefs / practices as possessing equal as obedient / submissive and moral validity) standardized within a larger nation-state Sources: Appiah, 2006; Arendt, 1963; Bauman, 1998; Butler, 1996; Held, 2003, 2010, 2011; Judis, 2018; Kant, 1795/2006; Kim, 2017; Kleingeld, 2006; Knight Abowitz & Harnish, 2006; Levy & Sznaider, 2011; Ljunggren, 2014; Nussbaum, 2008; Papastephanou, 2012; Quantz, 1984; Todd, 2009; Tully, 2014; Zamudio et al., 2010.

Two camps: Classical cosmopolitanism and new cosmopolitanism.

While there are many flavors of cosmopolitan scholarship, in the realm of ethics cosmopolitanism can be largely divided into two schools of thought: classical cosmopolitanism and new cosmopolitanism (Todd, 2009). The classical camp emphasizes universalism that can be traced back to the ancient Greek Cynics, Greek and Roman Stoics, as well as Kant and Western enlightenment values (Todd, 2009). Classic cosmopolitanism scholars, notes Sharon Todd (2009), “base their views on appeals to universal humanity, rights, and / or world citizenship, taking these (in varying degrees) as fundamental to the project of working toward a more just, harmonious, and peaceful world order” (p. 23). Adherents of new cosmopolitanism, by contrast, reject the Enlightenment’s need for universal common ground, which, they argue, can be repressive in its conformity, and instead advocate for embracing particularism and human diversity (Hollinger, 2002; Todd, 2009).

Classic cosmopolitanism.

In its earliest iterations, the cosmopolitanism of the Cynic philosophers challenged the sovereign authority of the Greek city-states; if local customs and laws could not be applied universally (and as it turns out, most could not), then Cynics openly confronted them (Eikeland, 2016). Later, Stoic cosmopolitanism emphasized a detachment from one’s unique and particular associations and demanded a life of impartiality that eschewed favoritism (Aurelius, 171- 175/1957; Eikeland, 2016). Building on the teachings of the Greek Stoic Hierocles, Nussbaum (1997) explains cosmopolitanism through the analogy of concentric circles. Hierocles’ cosmopolitanism is realized by first recognizing the limited groupings of one’s own unique lived experience and then abstracting it to include a larger worldview of the “imagined other” (Nussbaum, 1997). Hierocles' cosmopolitanism again promotes Stoic ideals of universalism and detachment through an increasing awareness of the lives of others. In the 18th century, Immanuel Kant developed the concept of cosmopolitanism as part of a framework for perpetual peace between nation-states. By peace, Kant meant more than the cessation of hostilities, but rather a normative foundation for the international community. This foundation included a cosmopolitan right of universal hospitality for foreign visitors (Kant, 1795/2006). By framing cosmopolitan hospitality as a right, Sharon Todd (2009) argues that Kant elevated cosmopolitanism to that of a “moral obligation on the part of the state and its

individual members” (p. 33). Kant’s peaceful nation-state was morally compelled to “uphold human rights by virtue of the common dignity and freedom of each human being” (Todd, 2009, p. 34). A universal hospitality that establishes “a relation to human difference as a condition of political association” (Todd, 2009) was fundamental to Kant’s world peace. Built on Western enlightenment notions, with its emphasis on individualism and rationality, Kant’s cosmopolitanism was a means of achieving rational universal understanding and agreement among individuals as well as, by extension, their representative democratic nation-states. Kant’s (1795/2006) raison d’etre for cosmopolitan hospitality was universality in the service of peace, so that “remote parts of the world can establish relations peacefully with one another, relations which ultimately become regulated by public laws and can thus finally bring the human species ever closer to a cosmopolitan constitution” (p. 82). Kant’s call for a world peace built on global laws and regulations becomes problematic, however, in its implementation by subsequent European colonialists seeking to impose their laws and their order as the universal world order.

Criticisms of classical cosmopolitanism.

Classical cosmopolitan, in all its iterations, largely came to be understood as detachment, impartiality, and (especially) universality. The very features that classical cosmopolitanism promoted, however, also makes it particularly problematic for many modern scholars (Butler, 1996, Delanty, 2009; Hollinger, 2002; Nussbaum, 2008; Tully, 2014). This critique has led some scholars to either rethink or outright reject cosmopolitanism as a viable philosophy. James Tully (2014) argues that cosmopolitanism’s universality is a tool of oppression. Tully’s (2014) cosmopolitanism encompasses 500 years of Western colonization and exploitation that has been (and still is) justified through the promises of -ation: “civilization, modernization, constitutionalization, democratization and now globalization” (p. 8). For Tully, cosmopolitanism includes the Kantian standardization and exportation of the modern liberal nation-state and its associated civil institutions. That is to say that the nation-states of the world today are overwhelmingly constructed and legitimated as civil, modern, and democratic by Western norms (Tully, 2014). Tully problematizes Western cosmopolitan standards as purposefully constructed to promote commerce by impeding real participatory democracy (especially the participation of historically minoritized and colonized peoples). Tully (2014)

contends that “the democratic deficit” of Western civil institutions is not a flaw but, in fact, their “structural feature” (p. 86). The West promises freedom and justice but provides “freedom before justice” (Bell, 2014, p. 184, emphasis mine) in realizing strong negative freedoms (i.e., freedom from state and church control) but weak positive ones (i.e., weak social, economic, and minority justice). What Tully (2014) considers true “diverse” democracy is thus overwhelmed by the powerful institutional structures of the modern nation-state for which Kant advocated. Will Kymlicka also problematizes the Kantian cosmopolitan notion of “individual rights, not group rights” (cited in Hollinger, 2002, p 233). … the ideology of civic as opposed to ethnic nationality has become a tool in the hands of majority nationalists who ‘crush minority nationalism’ and strip national minorities of their separate public institutions and rights of self-government. (Kymlicka cited in Hollinger, 2002, p. 233)

Both Tully and Kymlicka criticize classical cosmopolitanism for its underwhelming support of pluralism, and hence, its weak philosophical reinforcement of indigenous and ethnic minority rights. Other modern scholars have also challenged the detached and universalist notions of classical cosmopolitanism. Nussbaum (2008), after first advocating for cosmopolitanism, later came to disavow the concept entirely: I do not ... even endorse cosmopolitanism as a correct comprehensive doctrine. Further thought about Stoic cosmopolitanism, and particularly the strict form of it developed by Marcus Aurelius, persuaded me that the denial of particular attachments leaves life empty of meaning for most of us... (p. 80)

Papastephanou (2013), however, counter-challenges the way in which Nussbaum has narrowly centered her repudiation of cosmopolitanism on a classical Stoic interpretation of the idea. “From all the conceptual history of cosmopolitanism, [Nussbaum] arbitrarily selects later Stoicism’s conception and then elevates it to the concept of cosmopolitanism” (Papastephanou, 2013, p. 169). Claudia Schuman (2016) also agrees that Nussbaum’s rebuff is unwarranted because today’s cosmopolitanism does not require such denials. Such modern revisions to classical cosmopolitanism have given rise to what is broadly referred to as new cosmopolitanism.

The rise of new cosmopolitanism.

David Hollinger (2002) notes that beginning in the 1990s, a variety of modifiers become associated with cosmopolitanism: vernacular cosmopolitanism, rooted cosmopolitanism, critical cosmopolitanism, and situated cosmopolitanism, as well as cosmopolitan patriotism, cosmopolitan nationalism, cosmopolitan democracy, and cosmopolitan postcolonialism. Hollinger proposes the designation of new cosmopolitanism as an umbrella term for rolling up these ontologically similar manifestations of modern cosmopolitanism. The different adjectives do not denote different schools, but different attempts to say pretty much the same thing in relation to the one, huge shadow over the new cosmopolitanism: the image of the old cosmopolitanism … associated with the Enlightenment. (Hollinger, 2002, p. 228).

Modern interpretations of cosmopolitanism tend to be more accommodating of human diversity than those of the Cynics, Stoics, or Western Enlightenment thinkers. Appiah (2006), for one, rejects the Stoic’s detached universalistic approach to cosmopolitanism as creating a “rootless” existence (p. xvi) and an “icy impartiality” between friends (p. xvii). Instead, Appiah advocates a cosmopolitanism rooted in one’s own personal obligations and differences. Similarly, Niclas Rönnström (2016) and David Hansen (2017) promote a rooted cosmopolitan ideal. Building from Kant’s notion of hospitality to strangers, Hansen (2017) writes that “... if I am to be hospitable to other people, or to new ideas and values, I need a place in which to receive them. I need a sense of home, of place, of the local” (p. 209). For Appiah, Schuman, Rönnström, Hansen, and Papastephanou, modern notions of cosmopolitanism are necessarily tied to those local and familiar people, practices, and things that one values and cherishes. Gerard Delanty (2009) expands on the concept of new cosmopolitanism with the idea of the cosmopolitan imagination. Where pluralistic notions of multiculturalism emphasize the Other and the Self as separate cultural groupings worthy of respect and tolerance, the cosmopolitan imagination supposes the notion of a ‘third culture’ (Restivo, 1991, cited in Delanty, 2009, p. 11). This third level of culture arises, through what Delanty terms critical cosmopolitanism: the critical problematizing of both the assumptions and perspective of the Self as well as those of the Other in order to imagine a new way, a third way, forward. “The cosmopolitan imagination entails a view of society as an ongoing process of self-constitution through the continuous opening up of new perspectives in light of the encounter with the Other” (Delanty, 2009, p. 13). Delanty’s cosmopolitanism imagination is thus found in the continuous

re-creation of the Self in dialogue with the Other. Additionally, Delanty locates cosmopolitanism within a modernity that is both post-Western and post-universal, further distancing cosmopolitan from its classical origins and providing an invitation for non-Western perspectives (which he notes as severely lacking). Regarding non-Western perspectives, Noah Sobe (2009) proposes vernacular cosmopolitanisms as a means for exploring different cosmopolitan perspectives from various local orientations (especially non-Western ones). In Sobe’s vernacular, cosmopolitanism derives from exploring the relationships of the cherished local to what is beyond. As each local is subject to its own peculiarities, so too is what is immediately outside the local. As Sobe (2009) explains, … each cosmopolitanism involves a historically specific set of techniques for living and forming solidarities outside the local, as well as strategies for knowing forms of belonging connected with estrangement, displacement, and / or distance from the immediate local. (p. 6)

In Sobe’s vernaculars, even Kantian notions of classical cosmopolitanism are reduced to their regional and temporal origins within the European Enlightenment. The scholarship of Dale Snauwaert (2009) and William Smith (2007) build on the idea of cosmopolitanism as a moral and ethical norm. “Cosmopolitans assert the existence of a duty of moral consideration to all human beings on the basis of a shared humanity” (Snauwaert, 2009, p. 16). Snauwaert (2009) explains: If a shared humanity is presupposed, and if humanity is understood to possess an equal inherent value and dignity, then a shared humanity possesses a fundamental moral value. If the fundamental moral value of humanity is acknowledged, then a universal duty of moral consideration follows, for to deny moral consideration to any human being is to ignore (not recognize) their intrinsic value, and thereby, to violate their dignity. The duty of moral consideration in turn morally requires nations and peoples to conduct their relations in accordance with ethical principles that properly instantiate the intrinsic value and dignity of a shared humanity. (p. 16)

Similarly, Smith (2007) notes that “as a moral ideal, cosmopolitan citizenship can be said to entail the possession of certain ‘virtues’, understood as dispositions, qualities or character traits, the possession of which will make us sensitive to our cosmopolitan duties and obligations” (p. 39). For Delanty, Snauwaert, and Smith, cosmopolitanism is found in one’s moral and ethical approaches to Others.

Cosmopolitanism and geo-politics.

Building on ethical approaches to Others, many scholars of the new cosmopolitanism camp have also turned to cosmopolitanism as a geo-political norm (Delanty, 2009; Dewey, 1916/2016; Held, 2003, 2010, 2011; Judis, 2018; Snauwaert, 2009). Delanty argues that the rise of globalization drives much of today’s recent interest in cosmopolitanism. “The relevance of cosmopolitanism … is due in no small part to theories of globalization that emphasize its non- economic dimensions (Delanty, 2009, p. 5).” Delanty then proposes cosmopolitanism as a normative response to the effects and challenges of globalization. Similarly, political analyst John B. Judis (2018) presents cosmopolitanism as a political counterbalance to geo-political nationalism. In Europe, Judis (2018) argues that modern cosmopolitanism attitudes largely evolved to circumvent a repeat of the 20th century’s horrific (and largely European) world wars; accordingly, European cosmopolitanism necessarily and frequently transcends and displaces European national sovereignty. Judis’ notions of American cosmopolitanism, by contrast, has its foundations in the United States’ hegemonic dominance over its North American geo-political boundaries. Where the E.U. is an umbrella organization that facilitates different European cultures, laws, and practices in their peaceful coexistence, the U.S. is, by contrast, something much closer to a universalizing melting pot, assimilating its subjects (however imperfectly or unwillingly) into a dominant language and a singular rule of law (within the limits of American federalism). Given these divergent histories, European geopolitical notions of cosmopolitanism often challenge nation-state sovereignty while, by contrast, American notions of cosmopolitanism tend to reinforce American dominance. If anything, Judis argues that Americans after WWII may have erroneously conflated cosmopolitanism with globalism and internationalism as a means for expanding American-style trade, political culture, and hegemony around the world. As a post-WWII America largely set the world agenda for globalization and internationalization, it unreflectively welcomed cosmopolitanism as “global capitalism’s useful handmaiden” (Brock, 2011, p. 182). However, in those periods when globalization and internationalism failed to deliver on their implicit promise of American economic prosperity and cultural dominance, Americans, in turn, unreflectively rejected cosmopolitanism as well. A century ago, John Dewey viewed cosmopolitanism as a means of countering the rising dangers of nationalism. Amid WWI, Dewey (1916/2016) wrote that nationalist loyalties

prevented the true liberation of men which could be found in cosmopolitanism: “toward a wider and freer society—toward cosmopolitanism” (p. 56). An impediment to realizing that cosmopolitanism, however, Dewey lamented, was the increasing use of the education system to promote the nation-state and the individual’s duty to that state. Schooling had come to promote the very nationalism the Dewey rebuked. Education became a civic function and the civic function was identified with the realization of the ideal of the nation state. The ‘state’ was substituted for humanity; cosmopolitanism gave way to nationalism. To form the citizen, not the ‘man,’ became the aim of education. (Dewey, 1916/2016, p. 57)

Dewey (1916/2016) then asked if it was possible for a state-oriented institution like schooling to promote a cosmopolitan agenda that may ultimately serve to deprioritize the nation-state. His question remains germane today. I will return to the question of cosmopolitanism in education in the next subsection. Snauwaert (2009) also explores cosmopolitanism in global politics by contrasting cosmopolitanism with realism. Realism assumes a zero-sum world and a constant state of struggle between nation-states while cosmopolitanism asserts a moral consideration to all as individual human beings (Kim, 2017; Snauwaert, 2009). Unlike cosmopolitanism, realism’s limits of consideration end at the nation’s borders (Snauwaert, 2009, p. 14). The realist’s nation- state exists in order to provide for the security of its citizens, while the cosmopolitan’s nation- state exists to ensure the moral value and consideration of each individual: often first within national borders and then beyond. Snauwaert’s approach complements Delanty’s (2009) argument that cosmopolitanism provides a normative complement to globalization in a way that nationalism cannot. Cosmopolitanism promotes an ongoing moral growth of the individual by respecting and being responsible to those beyond nation-state borders while communitarian nationalism, by contrast, extends such respect and responsibility only to fellow citizens. Similarly, David Held (2003, 2010, 2011) advances cosmopolitanism as a means of balancing the competing modern processes of democracy and globalization. Held contends that these two important ideas pull in different directions. Democracy (particularly as realized through the modern nation-state) pulls toward self-determination within a delimited geographic border. Globalization, by contrast, pulls toward “dense associations” that transcend the nation- state borders to create “overlapping communities of fate” (Held, 2003, p. 470; Held, 2010, p. x). Held uses the word “dense” to note the difficulty in penetrating the many financial, cultural, and

legal entanglements associated with an increasingly globalized world. The fact that these overlapping global communities possess extremely weak democratic decision-making structures for addressing ever increasingly global issues (such as inequality, pollution, disease, terrorism, refugees, water resources, etc.) is what Held (2010) refers to as the “paradox of our times.” The existing institutions that address global issues (e.g., the United Nations, the World Health Organization, and the International Monetary Fund) are weak democratic institutions because they possess limited (if any) authority to create solutions, distribute responsibility, or enforce accountability (Held, 2010). Nussbaum (2020), however, argues that the weak authority of these international institutions is a positive feature rather than a flaw. Nussbaum promotes the ability of supra-state organizations to inspire and influence, but not to dictate to otherwise sovereign nation-states. Competing nation-states provide democratic / cosmopolitan opportunities for debate, experimentation, and resistance, contends Nussbaum (2020), that are likely to be suppressed if supra-state governing bodies are allowed to dictate solutions. And so, while cosmopolitanism eschews uncritical nationalism, both Nussbaum (2020) and Appiah (2006) argue that the modern nation-state remains a fundamental component for realizing political and ethical cosmopolitanism. Like Judis (2018) and Snauwaert (2009), Held (2010) notes that the modern challenges of globalization have been met with the rise of anti-cosmopolitan political parties and elected leaders that advocate nationalism and authoritarianism. Such political movements promote a doubling-down on the principles of national sovereignty. While these movements may achieve legitimacy through democratic mechanisms (at least in their initial phases), they problematically seek solutions limited to their nation-state’s limited sphere of influence. To check this trend, Held (2010) offers cosmopolitanism as a political philosophy for advancing democracy within an increasingly globalized world.

Cosmopolitanism and education.

Given the many competing interpretations and implications of cosmopolitanism, what might cosmopolitanism in education look like? Nussbaum (1997), Appiah (2006), Sobe (2009), Dewey (1916/2016) and Rönnström (2016) examine this question. Nussbaum (1997) focuses on the ability of higher education institutions to imbue cosmopolitan attitudes in their students. In doing so, she calls for a university curriculum with

(1) a core of basic diverse perspectives, (2) electives that explore specific instances of diversity, and (3) a foreign language (p. 70). “[American] education at all levels” declares Nussbaum (1997), “... should … strongly emphasize the history of American constitutional traditions and their background in the tradition of Western political philosophy” (p. 68). So while steeped in multicultural curricular practices, Nussbaum’s cosmopolitan education advocates for an education grounded in, yet transcended of, one’s particular lived experience. Still, Nussbaum roots her cosmopolitan education in Western liberalism. The scholarship of both Tully (2014) and Appiah (2006), however, push back at Nussbaum’s education model. Nussbaum is deeply invested in Western liberal thought in a way that Tully, in particular, rejects. Nussbaum promotes cosmopolitanism (and later what she terms globally sensitive patriotism) as a practice of promoting and expanding classic liberalism (and correlating governments / institutions). Tully counters by advocating even wider notions of world citizenship, ones that are less economically exploitive than those historically created by Western realizations of liberalism. Additionally, where Nussbaum presents cosmopolitanism in education as a Stoic-like practice of learning about Others, Appiah presents it as a Cynic-like practice of living among Others. Appiah’s cosmopolitanism in education is the practice of conversations with strangers, of speaking with Others qua moral individuals of value and not of conversations about strangers. Appiah approaches cosmopolitanism as a way of living together reminiscent of Deweyan democracy as associated living, but one that is extended to a more global neighborhood. For Noah Sobe (2009), cosmopolitanism in education is located in the attitude with which education approaches the local in relation to what is beyond the local. While Sobe (2009) emphasizes the local peculiarities of “vernacular cosmopolitanisms” (p. 8), he also proposes two features for recognizing such cosmopolitanisms regardless of the local setting. These features emphasize both identity and political action at the local level and in the world beyond: 1. Viewed as a question of identity and identity formation, a cosmopolitanism concerns self- definition in relation to and in relationship with the world beyond one’s immediate local conditions. 2. Viewed as a form of political action, a cosmopolitanism can be seen as a strategy for locating self and community amidst local and global formations.

Sobe’s cosmopolitanism education is found in the normative evaluation of and the linkage between the local and non-local. Sobe’s (2009) cosmopolitanism in education is not found in creating definitive answers, but in creating attitudes that recognize a shared humanity and extend dignity to all. Sobe (2009) also contrasts cosmopolitanism’s approach to education, which celebrates diversity, with that of globalism’s approach, which seeks to produce ‘universalizable’ persons that possess employable skills that may be equally exploited by any community or society (Sobe, 2009). Niclas Rönnström (2016) outlines a case for “rooted cosmopolitan citizenship education” (p. 137). Similar to Appiah’s and Hansen’s notions of cosmopolitanism, Rönnström’s rooted cosmopolitanism citizenship emphasizes local identities as a way of appreciating imagined Others (p. 135). In Rönnström’s (2016) words: … rooted cosmopolitanism builds on the view that the very same local and national identities that bind people together can mobilize moral commitment to global others. Moreover, it involves the view that rooted attachments can bring about extended moral commitment to distant others because it can actually be the case that one’s local or national attachment motivates extensive commitments since that is what is required from such attachments. Rooted attachments can, therefore, be seen as functionally necessary to achieve cosmopolitan goals and aspirations… (p. 135)

For Rönnström, cosmopolitan notions are not at odds with local loyalties and do not require a Stoic denial of one’s particular lived experience. Rönnström’s concept of cosmopolitanism is not an extrapolation of national citizenship to world citizenship (i.e., patriotism and cosmopolitanism do not compete) but rather a moral and ethical way of living in an increasingly globalized world. Rönnström (2016) outlines four roles for education that resist globalism’s economic exploitation and instead promote rooted cosmopolitan citizenship: 1. Intentionally promoting rooted cosmopolitan ideals such as empathy, inclusiveness, communication, and cooperation (because left to their own development through globalism, the traits more likely to manifest are arrogance, matter-of-factness, and egoism). 2. Expanding epistemological curiosity. That is, teaching that there are multiple ways of knowing, understanding, and relating. 3. Helping explore the realm of global possibilities—that we ask neither too much nor too little of ourselves and others.

4. Strengthening local rights and responsibilities, and then extending them to the global. Rönnström’s roles return cosmopolitanism in education to a normative moral and ethical foundation. How successful these roles are at allowing educators to resist an environment of economic exploitation remains to be seen. Nonetheless, Rönnström provides a useful framework for advancing the study of cosmopolitanism in education.

Cosmopolitanism: Gaps in the literature.

The vast majority of literature on cosmopolitanism and education approaches the topic from a conceptual / theoretical lens. Scholars are typically debating what cosmopolitanism is, what it should be, or juxtaposing it with terms like nationalism or citizenship. Only a few studies evaluate how the topic is taught or to what effectiveness. Patricia Bromley (2009), for instance, published a study that examined high school textbook increase in cosmopolitan related terms from 1970-2008. Karen Hendershot & Jill Sperandio (2009) examined the effects of undergraduate study abroad programs on the practice of student cosmopolitan ideals. Helen Harper and Judith Dunkerly (2009) examined cosmopolitanism through a critical examination of UNESCO public documents. Such empirical research on cosmopolitanism is, however, uncommon. My review revealed no existing literature in the area of my focus: a historical site- based examination of cosmopolitanism as it applies to conflict-related education.

Part 2: The Philippine-American Conflict-Related Education This second section of the literature review looks at the Philippine-American conflict and its associated conflict-related education. While this literature review occasionally discusses historical events, it is not intended as a historical narrative (provided in chapter five).

Introduction.

The history and legacy of the Philippine-American conflict has largely been lost to the American imagination. As sociologist Philip Ablett (2004) writes, “the historical amnesia surrounding [the Philippine-American] conflict is no accident. It is an enduring legacy of US government and military propaganda, widely disseminated by a largely supportive corporate press, which contributed in no small way to the American victory both at home and abroad” (p. 22). The Philippine-American conflict followed the sensational press coverage of events (real

and otherwise) in Cuba, famously promoted by Joseph Pulitzer and William Randall Hearst; and it was this press coverage that helped to create, rather than to report, the Spanish-American War (Ablett, 2004; Kapur, 2011; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). Similarly, when the American occupation of the Philippines followed on the heels of the Spanish-American War, government propaganda, press censorship, and reporting sensationalism continued (Ablett, 2004; Miller, 1982). Lacking knowledge of events on the ground, an uninformed debate over American occupation raged in the domestic press, where supporters and detractors voiced their opinions over principle, if not facts. The influential U.S. Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, the rising American politician Theodore Roosevelt, and the celebrated British author Rupert Kipling (among others) advocated for American imperialism and continuing occupation (Ablett, 2004; Blount, 1912; Cashman, 1993; Legaspi, 1968/1973; Miller, 1982; Morris, 1979; Schirmer, 1972; Wolff, 1960/2006; Werking, 1973). Meanwhile anti-imperialist efforts were led by former U.S. President Grover Cleveland, author / humorist Mark Twain, and the industrial steel magnate Andrew Carnegie (Ablett, 2004; Auchincloss, 2002; Baer, 1993; Gibson, 1947; Carnegie, 1899; Dooley, 2009; Morris, 1979; Rosenberg, 1982; Schirmer, 1972; Vaughan, 2009; Zwick, 2002). As the 19th century ended, however, the political success of the expansionists effectively made the occupation of the Philippines a fait accompli and emasculated, if not completely silenced, the voices of the anti-imperialist opposition (Ablett, 2004; Harrington, 1935; Legaspi, 1968/1973). In 1912, James H. Blount published one of the first comprehensive histories of the American occupation of the Philippines. Drawing on his personal experience, first as an officer for the U.S. Army Volunteers and later as a U.S. District Judge in the Philippines, Blount’s history followed the spirit of anti-imperialists like Twain and Carnegie in calling for Filipino independence. Blount’s history may have helped influenced the 1916 Jones Act, a law that transferred more local power to Filipino elites and promised “eventual independence” to the Philippines (Kramer, 2006b). The future of the Philippines, however, would be overshadowed by American involvement in WWI (1917-1919); and later, with the onset of events like the Great Depression (1929-1933), WWII (1940-1945), the Korean War (1950-1953), and the Cold War (1947-1991), what little that was remembered of the Philippine-American conflict largely faded from American consciousness. Somewhat ironically, perhaps, it was American military involvement in yet another war, Vietnam (1961-1975) [and then later, and to a lesser degree,

Afghanistan (2001-2021) and Iraq (2003-2011)], that returned the American imagination (however minutely) back to the Philippine-American conflict.

Conflict related themes.

On the eve of American military escalation into Vietnam, Leon Wolff’s 1960 Little Brown Brother “rescued from oblivion” (Kramer, 2006a, p. xvi) a conflict that Paul Kramer (2006a) argues had been not necessarily been forgotten but that had certainly been hidden within the context of the Spanish-American War. Centered primary on an American perspective to the Philippine-American conflict, Wolff provides a captivating, if unflattering, history of America’s blundering diplomacy, outlining the missteps, broken promises, and military brutality that would characterize America’s entry into overseas empire. Evan as Wolff’s America stumbled towards war in Vietnam, it had largely forgotten its actions in the Philippines, a conflict that Christopher J. Einolf (2014) would later call America’s “first” Vietnam. Some sixty years prior to the Vietnam War, America had already been entangled in guerilla-style jungle warfare against an opponent that could blend into the general population (Einolf, 2014). Decades after Wolff’s history was published, Einolf recounted the lost lessons of history as the U.S. repeated its former political missteps and relived the military brutality of the Philippine-American conflict in Vietnam. As American involvement in Vietnam escalated, historian John Morgan Gates turned to America’s experience in the Philippines for insights. In 1973, Gates presented a history of the Philippine-American conflict with the broader purpose of extracting lessons from America’s “successful” pacification efforts. “The American experience in the Philippines could conceivably offer some insight into how [the pacification of an armed people] might be solved” (Gates, 1973, p. 290). Where Wolff’s (1960/2006) earlier history largely focused on the path to war with the Philippines, Gates’ history instead focused on how America brought the war to a conclusion. Downplaying reports of American brutality and torture as anti-imperialist propaganda, Gates provides a largely favorable interpretation of the U.S. Army’s campaign of “benevolence” that might inform ongoing American efforts in Vietnam. Gates argues that education was an important component of that benevolence. “School building and development” according to Gates (1973) “was probably the one action of the army that was most appreciated by the Filipinos” (p. 86). For Gates, American education and schooling efforts in the Philippines

provided fundamental lessons in conflict-related education as a means of pacification that might be applied in Vietnam and elsewhere. Conflict-related education / schooling also is a theme that will run through almost all the subsequent literature on the Philippine-American conflict (Angelo, 2012; Bellow, 1998; Einolf, 2014; Eittreim, 2019; Goodenow, 2018; Justice, 2009; Miller, 1982; Sobe, 2009; Stratton, 2016; Steinbock-Pratt, 2019). Also inspired by the Vietnam War, Stuart Creighton Miller’s 1982 Benevolent Assimilation serves as one of the most comprehensively researched and painstakingly annotated accounts of the Philippine-American conflict. However, where Gates’ (1973) history sought answers for resolving the Vietnam War, Miller’s (1982) history, being temporally removed from Vietnam, provides a more objective comparison of the two wars. Regardless of their similarities and differences, Miller (1982) writes that the tragedy of both the Philippine War and Vietnam War is that neither was necessary. In both cases, the U.S. turned its admirers and potential partners into its adversaries (Miller, 1982). More recently, American involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq has again renewed interest in the Philippine-American conflict (Angelo, 2012; Einolf, 2014; Justice; 2009; Kramer, 2006b; Sobe, 2009). Opening with the question of whether the U.S. invaded Iraq to control oil or to promote democracy, Angelo (2012) argues that we might be able to answer this question, as well as the reason behind any military campaign, by examining the education system that the victor installs afterwards. Angelo then proceeds to examine America’s most prominent sites of conflict-related education, including the Philippine-American conflict. Along this conflict- related education theme, Einolf (2014), meanwhile, provides a narrative of brutal American military campaigns and torture in the Philippines, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq that ran concurrently with American education efforts. Whatever the means—military conquest, government sanctioned torture, or education—each served the end of suppressing local populations (Angelo, 2012; Einolf, 2014; Gates, 1973; Goodenow, 2018; Justice, 2009; Miller, 1982; Sobe, 2009).

Conflict-related education themes.

Noah Sobe (2009) notes that “the end of conflict is frequently considered an extremely opportune moment for intervention and deliberate social transformation” (p. 8). The literature broadly reinforces Sobe’s claim, signaling that in the American imagination schooling is a vital

instrument for realizing the social transformation of “Other” populations (Angelo, 2012; Einolf, 2014; Eittreim, 2019; Gates, 1973; Goodenow, 2018; Justice, 2009; Miller, 1982; Sobe, 2009; Stratton, 2016; Steinbock-Pratt, 2019). Similarly, Walden Bello (1998) argues that “imperialism had to be legitimated to the American people” (p. 367) as benevolent, and so America turned to education create this legitimation. Along these lines, the literature suggests that American imperialism largely depended on an accompanying system of conflict-related education (Angelo, 2012; Bellow, 1998; Einolf, 2014; Eittreim, 2019; Gates, 1973; Goodenow, 2018; Justice, 2009; Miller, 1982; Sobe, 2009; Stratton, 2016; Steinbock-Pratt, 2019). Regarding Philippine-American conflict-related education at the turn of the 20th century, the literature narrowly explores the lived experiences of teachers and students, and it broadly explores education as tool of imperialism. Sarah Steinbock-Pratt (2019) examines American public schools in the Philippines as sites where both American teachers and Filipino students negotiated their roles and identities within the American empire. Elisabeth M. Eittreim (2019) compares the “kill-the Indian, save-the-man” mindset of the U.S. government’s Indian boarding schools to its approach to public schools in the Philippines. Similarly, Mary Racelis and Judy C. Ick (2001) expose the White hegemonic mindset of otherwise “well-intentioned” American educators in the Philippines. Zimmerman (2006) notes how a succeeding generation of U.S. Peace Corps educators would later disavow America’s educational approach to Philippines. Stratton (2016), meanwhile, examines how American education conveyed the expectations of citizenship to America’s newly colonized people around the world.

Racial themes.

Race is a common theme for literature on the Philippine-American conflict (Barrows 1910; Cano, 2013; Coloma, 2004, 2009; Dphrepaulezz, 2013; Eittreim, 2019; Kramer, 2006b; Stratton, 2016). Kramer’s 2006 The Blood of Government exemplifies the literature in this category by exploring the colonization of the Philippines through the inexorably twined themes of empire and race. Empire is power, and “race” argues Kramer (2006b), “is irreducibly a system of power” (p. 22). “It was not simply that [racial] difference made [European, Japanese, and American] empire possible: empire remade [racial] difference in the process” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 3). Kramer argues that it was U.S. President McKinley’s turn toward empire and benevolent assimilation in 1898 that instigated a race war against what would necessarily

become (for America) a racialized subaltern Filipino people. Related to Kramer’s argument, scholars such as Gail Bederman (2008); John H. Manning Butler (1934), Roland Sintos Coloma (2004, 2009), Clif Stratton (2016); and Meg Wesling (2011) argue that race itself was a determining factor of America’s imposed curriculum and education for the Filipino people. The scientific racial construction of Filipinos as negro “regulated both the construction of Filipino as colonized subjects and the transnational propagation of racially conscious U.S. educational policy and curriculum in the early 20th century” (Coloma, 2009). Negro education models from the American South, with an emphasis on labor and technical training, provided a ready-made curriculum for implementation in the Philippines (Angelo, 2012; Coloma, 2004, 2009). Despite American promises of preparing the Filipino people for democratic self- government, education in the Philippines came to follow a time-tested American process of creating uncritical patriotic citizens while also racially separating students into academic and manual training tracts (Stratton, 2016). What the Filipinos were taught by the American imposed education system was inexorably linked to the subaltern racial identity that America created for the Filipino people (Bederman, 2008; Butler, 1934; Coloma, 2004, 2009; Kramer 2006b; Stratton, 2016; Wesling, 2011).

Religious themes.

While almost all the comprehensive literature on the Philippine-American conflict addresses religion in some capacity, touching on the tension between Spanish / Filipino Catholicism and American Protestantism / secularism, a few authors (McDevitt, 1956; Milligan, 2004a, 2004b, 2005; Reuter, 1982) have made religion the center of their research. Brother V. Edmund McDevitt (1956) provides a biography of Father / Lieutenant William McKinnon, a Roman Catholic Priest and the Chaplain for the First California Volunteers. As McDevitt (1956) narrates, McKinnon is ultimately appointed as the first U.S. superintendent of schools in Manila where he will set the stage for the spread of American schooling across the archipelago (also see Eittreim; 2019; Gates 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Mancini; 2018; Miller, 1982; Rosenberg; 1982; Steinbock-Pratt, 2019). American anti-Catholic sentiments were especially high in the 1890s, largely in response to unprecedented immigration from predominantly Catholic countries like Ireland and Italy (McDevitt, 1956; Mancini; 2018; Reuter, 1982). As McDevitt (1956) explains, Father McKinnon viewed the call for military service as an opportunity to prove Catholic

patriotism to his often-suspect Protestant countrymen (also see Mancini, 2018). While reports of McKinnon’s service as an army chaplain are overwhelmingly favorable, J. M. Mancini (2018) complicates this biography by noting that McKinnon became needlessly entangled in the political debate over the looting of Catholic churches in the Philippines. Despite overwhelming evidence of plundering by U.S. soldiers (such as the fact that missing Catholic artifacts were appearing in shops across California) McKinnon insisted it was the work of “Chinamen,” a narrative that Father McKinnon forwarded in an apparent effort to protect the McKinley administration from scandal (Mancini, 2018). Mancini (2018) explains McKinnon’s complicated loyalties: … McKinnon ought not to be understood solely in the guise of a Catholic priest aggrieved by looting. He was also a loyal soldier, a Republican, and an adherent to the views that U.S. anti-Catholicism could be remedied through the blood sacrifice of American Catholics in armed conflict. (p. 149)

Jeffrey Milligan (2004a, 2004b, 2005), meanwhile, centers his research on the tensions between the Philippines’ predominantly Islamic southern territories and its mostly Catholic northern territories. Focusing on education policy, Milligan contextualizes his approach within the centuries-old Islamic / Christian contestation for influence, including its arguably most recent iteration, the “war on terrorism.” As Milligan (2004a, 2004b, 2005) explains, the Philippines has been caught between the Eastern spread of Islam and the Western spread of Colonialism (first Spanish / Catholic and then American). Milligan (2005) presents research that he frames as “triply” postcolonial: postcolonial from (1) Spanish / American imperialism, (2) internal colonialism of the Muslim minority, and (3) neocolonial relationships with the U.S. (p. 5). Within this colonial context, “the school,” notes Milligan (2005), “is as ubiquitous an outpost of the state as the military camp in most nations” (p. 3). Yet unlike the military outpost that is staffed with agents of the state, the school is largely staffed with agents of the local community. As such, the school is a contested site for both the state and the local community. “And local intellectuals—educators—who face the challenge of mediating, transmitting, and translating between the political center and periphery and from the present to the future, staff it” (Milligan, 2005, p. 3).

Economic themes.

Economy also provides an important framework for literature on the Philippine-American conflict-related education. The redistribution of land in the Philippines, much of which was controlled by the Catholic church, was of particular importance to early American colonial administrators (Almeda Martin, 1999; Alvarez, 1992; Cunningham, 1916; Reuter, 1982; Seymour, 2012, Ventura, 2016). Theresa Ventura (2016) examines America’s early land reform efforts, drawing attention to the short-sightedness of U.S. policies and of scapegoating by American administrators. Richard Seymour (2012) also provides an important examination of the Philippine-American conflict-related education within the wider context of America’s capitalist imperialism. Territorial imperialism, explains, Seymour (2012), has its roots in feudalism, where the ruler increased power by acquiring ever more territory (and workers) in order to extract resources. By comparison, in capitalist imperialism, while territory may still play a role, it is not the main source of profit. “Rather capitalists increase their surplus (profits) in competition with others by constantly investing in improvements to the means of production” (Seymour, 2012, pp. xiii-xiv). Instead of a need for more territory, the requirements of industry, namely resources, labor, and markets, become the new imperatives of imperialism. In the Philippines, an externally imposed education system fueled America’s capitalistic imperialism by providing a trained and subjugated labor force that enabled such a system (Seymour, 2012).

Decolonial themes.

Renato Constantino (1966) provides one of the most important decolonial critiques of the conflict-related education system imposed on Filipinos. In the spirit of Carter G. Woodson5, himself an American educator in the Philippines, Constantino writes that “the molding of men’s minds is the best means of conquest. Education, therefore, serves as a weapon in wars of colonial conquest” (cited in Schirmer & Shalom, 1987, p. 45). Constantino’s writings are particularly critical of an American public schooling system that promoted the English language, a technique that, he argues, favored American rule, undermined Filipino nationalism, and “inculcated ideas of white superiority” (Schirmer & Shalom, 1987, p. 35). Later, Judy C. Ick

5 “If you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry about his actions” (Woodson, 1933, p. 54).

(2001), herself the product of a Constantino inspired Filipino nationalist education system, would complicate Constantino’s narrative: Reared on the dogma of our “mis-education” by American colonialism inculcated in me by my UP [University of the Philippines] education, …. I simply trusted the received wisdom that American education was the evil that led to our “colonial mentality,” which is, in turn, the root of all our society’s failures” (p. 263).

Ick (2001) shares that her scholarship into the stories told by and about American educators (the Thomasites) led her to a more nuanced understanding of American colonial education. She argues that modern Filipinos should also embrace a more complicated approach to America’s imperialistic education instead of simply repeating the dominant decolonial narrative of “the American school is the school of the devil” (p. 261).6

Two broad approaches to the literature.

Miller (1982) and Kramer (2006b) suggest two broad approaches for the literature that contextualizes the Philippine-American conflict. The first approach combines element of what historians term story and micro histories (these approaches are further explained in chapter three). Miller (1982) refers to this approach as aberration and Kramer (2006b) as temporal exceptionalism. In aberration / temporal exceptionalism, the events around the Philippine- American conflict are viewed as an “exceptional and unrepeatable” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 16) period of American empire building. A series of unique and unprecedented economic and political circumstances would converge in 1898 to create a “fever-minded” America’s “imperial moment” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 16). In one fell swoop, President William McKinley, the “architect of the American century” (Merry 2017), would seize a unique opportunity for American empire. Aberration / temporal exceptionalism contends that McKinley’s moment of empire had no precedent in American history and has no subsequent equivalency. The aberration / temporal exceptionalism approach is largely taken by those historians who are examining a small and unique element of the conflict and also by those biographers who are detailing a specific lived experience. This literature includes Alvarez’ (1992) and Ventura’s (2016) analysis of land

6 Reacting to America’s earliest efforts at public schooling in the Philippines, in 1901 a local parish priest declared that “the American school is the school of the devil.” In response, a quick- witted American teacher sponsored a school exorcism, which allowed students to resume their education in sanctified classrooms. (Racelis & Ick, 2001)

reform, Racelis & Ick’s (2001) collection of stories from the Thomasites, Auchincloss’ (2002) biography of President Theodore Roosevelt, Francia’ (2014) study of Jose Rizal, Merry’s (2017) and Philips’ (2003) biographies of President McKinley, McDevitt’s (1956) biography of Father McKinnon, and Wolff’s (1960/2006) history of the war (for which he provides little to no external context or analysis). In contrast, the second approach combines element of what historians call narrative and macro history (again, further explained in chapter three). Miller (1982) calls this approach historical continuity, and Kramer (2006b) refers to it as long arc.7 The historical continuity / long arc approach contends that the Philippine-American conflict is one more chapter in America’s long and storied history of empire building, though that empire had hitherto been confined to North America (Kramer, 2006b). Historical continuity / long arc asserts that the competing approach of aberration / temporal exceptionalism falsely differentiates between North America’s White settler “expansion” and Europe’s overseas “imperialism” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 15). Proponents of American expansion associated it with benevolence, education / tutelage, civilization, and even democracy; as a result, “expansion” became another instance of American exceptionalism that distinguished it from Europe and the European’s cruel and authoritative “imperialism” (Kramer, 2006b). In the historical continuity / long arc narrative, America’s involvement in the Philippine is not unique, but is rather the latest chapter in America’s westward expansion; and American actions in the Philippines bear a striking resemblance to those of European “imperialism.” The literature in the category includes Gates’ (1973), Miller’s (1982), and Einolf’s (2014) efforts to tie the Philippine-American conflict to later American conflicts in Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq. The category also includes Angelo’s (2012), Eittreim’s (2019); Stratton’s (2016), and Steinbock-Pratt’s (2019) efforts to connect America’s conflict-related education efforts in the Philippines with similar efforts including the 19th century Indian Wars and incursions into Puerto Rico, Guam, and Cuba; of the U.S.’s 20th century military and educational efforts in Germany and Japan; and of the U.S.’s 21st century conflict- related education efforts in Afghanistan and Iraq.

7 Kramer largely attributes the long arc narrative to William A. Williams’ 1959 The Tragedy of American Diplomacy and Walter LaFeber’s 1963 The New Empire.

Gaps in the literature.

Two books on Philippine-American conflict-related education were published in 2019 (Eittreim, 2019; Steinbock-Pratt, 2019) indicating that this topic remains of high interest to history of education scholars (much higher than I would have imagined when I started this research). Still, these books, as with most of the related scholarship, focus on American teacher narratives and / or the racialization of the Filipino people and its subsequent educational implications. Additionally, President McKinley’s infamous benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898 (a fundamental document in my own research) is mentioned by almost every scholar who addresses the Philippine-American conflict. However, beyond a few key phrases, McKinley’s proclamation is never systematically deconstructed. Critical policy analysis has never been applied to the document. Additionally, a cosmopolitan framework has never been used to examine the conflict. This research works to fills those gaps.

CHAPTER III: METHODOLOGY

This chapter presents the two methodologies I will employ in my research: historical research and critical policy analysis. Historical research looks to the past in order to inform and influence the present, while critical policy analysis approaches public policy from a critical perspective to ask questions of power, privilege, and oppression.

Historical Research I open my discussion of historical research by addressing its ambiguity as a methodology. As a qualitative methodology, historical research is a somewhat underdeveloped approach to education research, and so I necessarily turn to the scholarship of “strict” historians (an approach with its own limitations, as I will discuss). While focusing on the methodology of historiography, I also touch on other associated approaches to, and issues in, historical research: social memory, historicism, revisionism, and others. I conclude this section with a discussion of the tensions between strict historical research and historical research within a particular field like education.

Historical research: The ambiguity of historical methodology.

Miami University education historian Kate Rousmaniere shares that historians often do not know what method or methodology they will be working with as they begin historical research. “Traditionally, … historical writing rarely goes into detail about methods” (Rousmaniere, personal communication, 2019). Instead, historians start their work by writing the history; and from that history the questions and methods follow (Rousmaniere, personal communication, 2019). In her 2004 essay on historical research, however, Rousmaniere is somewhat more explicit about the historic research method: First, history is more than the stringing together of facts. Second, historical narrative is driven by the questions asked by the historian, the theory relied on, and the argument created. Third, the nature of the historical data that is used drives the interpretation. In other words, there is not one true historical story out there waiting to be told if only the correct facts are pulled together. (p. 33)

For Rousmaniere, historical research is not the telling of truths, but the construction of a story. The historian himself / herself decides what to tell and what to omit. “In a very real sense, there

is no history until historians tell it, and it is the way in which they tell it that becomes what we know of history” (Rousmaniere, 2004, p. 33). While such an approach may initially draw one to constructivist and / or interpretivist paradigms, Rousmaniere disavows strict alignment with the common qualitative research methodologies used by many educational researchers. Instead, she argues that educational historians have a foot in two academic fields, education and history, and yet are never fully in either. The “methods and modes of [the education history] researcher do not always fit with those of other qualitative or quantitative researchers in education, just as the types of questions they ask do not always fit with the general historical field” (Rousmaniere, 2004, p. 35). As if to reinforce this point, my own search through the index of several popular books on qualitative research reveals that most do not even mention the term “historiography”: Bhattacharya, 2017; Brown et al., 2014; Creswell, 2014; Jackson and Mazzei, 2012; Janesick, 2004; Kim, 2016; Leavy, 2017; Maxwell, 2013; Miles et al., 2014; and Patton, 2002. As a qualitative methodology in the arena of education, it seems that historiography is largely, and perhaps intentionally, underdeveloped. With that limitation in mind, I turn to the scholarship of historic research by “strict” historians. While this approach is valuable, it is also not entirely unproblematic (a point that I will discuss at the end of this chapter).

Historical research: Historiography.

Merriam-Webster provides three definitions of historiography (Historiography, n.d.): 1.a. The writing of history, especially the writing of history based on the critical examination of sources, the selection of particulars from the authentic materials, and the synthesis of particulars into a narrative that will stand the test of critical methods. 1.b. The principles, theory, and history of historical writing 2. The product of historical writing, or a body of historical literature. Like Merriam-Webster, scholars of historical research loosely consider historiography both the process of writing history and the study of what has been written. American historian Carl Becker (1938), pushing back on the teaching of history-as-fact methodology prominent in his day, describes historiography as assessing, “in terms of modern standards, the value of historical works” (p. 20). Many modern historians have adopted Becker’s views. History

professor Mary Rampolla (2010) considers historiography to be a study of the “approaches to a topic that other historians have taken” (p. 33). History professor Anthony Brundage (2018) and historians Peter Lambert and Philipp Schofield (2004) all refer to historiography as the “history of historical writing” (p. 16 & p. 1, respectively), while history professors Ian W. Mabbett (2007) and John Tosh (2010) regards it as “the study of the writing of history” (p. 65 & p. 158, respectively). Rousmaniere (2004), meanwhile, describes historiography as both the study of the techniques of historical research and historical writing. Pertinent to the writing of educational history, Brundage (2018) notes that every topic will have its own particular historiography. Notably, Mabbett (2007) is the only scholar I found who explicitly links the term “historiography” to that of “methodology” (p. 166). Mabbett (2007) acknowledges that historiography is often “twinned” with methodology “since the study of works of historical scholarship often overlaps the study of the methods of historical scholarship” (p. 166). For Mabbett, however, historiography is more than simply considering what previous historians have written; it is also examining the lens through which they approach their historical research. Mabbett (2007) presents the “historiographic approach” as one of three approaches to historical writing (the others being “narrative” and “thematic”). Mabbett’s historiographical approach is that of “examining a number of possible answers to [a] question set, discussing the evidence that is relevant to each of these in turn and referring to the arguments of historians who have favored each answer” (Mabbett, 2007, p. 81). The narrative approach, by contrast, focuses on a chronological storied presentation of historical material that incorporates the author's commentary (Mabbett, 2007). Finally, the thematic approach examines historical events through one or more lenses (e.g., political, economic, experiential) (Mabbett, 2007). A particular advantage of a historiographical approach is that it builds on and debates the arguments that other historians have already made. The drawback, however, is that one’s own research may become little more than a summation of what others have said and may exclude the researcher’s own commentary (Mabbett, 2007).

Historical research: Social memory v. historicism.

Tosh (2010) highlights two major trends in historical research: social memory and historicism. These approaches to history vary dramatically. A social memory approach interprets history with the intention of creating or sustaining a group self-identity, often at the

expense of historical accuracy. Foundational social memories often emphasize how the group experienced injustice and / or overcame oppression. At the same time, however, social memory may also de-emphasize or negate injustice or oppressions originating from the group. The American foundation mythology is one example of social memory. The history of the American founders emphasizes the injustices that the British monarchy inflicted on their group, while simultaneously deemphasizing the founder’s injustices toward women, the working poor, African slaves, and the indigenous peoples of North America. From the social memory’s foundational event, succeeding historical events are interpreted to reinforce its established historical narrative. In the case of America, events such as the American Civil War, women’s suffrage, the “liberation” of the Philippines, participation in World War II, and the U.S. civil rights movement are interpreted so as to reinforce the foundational social memories such as the advance of social justice and the struggle against tyranny. Historicism, by comparison, is a form of historical research that promotes historical accuracy without regard to social memory. Citing the 19th century historian Leopold von Ranke, Tosh (2010) argues the importance of suspending modern sensibilities and “present day concerns” (p. 8) when writing history. Three principles (difference, context, and process) promote historicism (Tosh, 2010). Difference is the necessity for appreciating the “gulf that separates our own age from all previous ages” (Tosh, 2010, p. 9). The novelist E. P. Hartley (1953) captures the spirit of difference, when he writes that “the past is a foreign country: they do things differently there” (p. 17). The historical researcher concerned with historicism must appreciate the past as autonomous from the present. Historicists hold that “each age is a unique manifestation of the human spirit, with its own culture and values” (Tosh, 2010, pp. 6-7). Context, meanwhile, requires understanding past events within their historical context rather than assigning modern interpretations (Tosh, 2010, p. 11). Rampolla (2010) explains context as an attempt “to understand the people and events of the past in terms of the unique historical context that helped shape them” (p. 3). “Part of the historian’s task,” argues writer Richard Marius and historian Melvin E. Page (2012), “is to think your way into the minds of the people who lived in earlier times so you can think about experiences as they did” (p. 6). Tosh (2010) cautions, however, that the ability to provide adequate context requires enormous breadth of historical knowledge and is often a defining feature in separating amateur historians from professional ones. Marius and Page (2012) also warn that while practicing context, the historian

“can never fully abandon [their] own perceptions …. Historians must always put something of themselves into the stories they tell” (p. 6). Mabbett (2007) agrees, noting that “historians cannot stand apart from their own society and judge the past absolutely. Ideas are shaped by conditions in the present society” (p. 161). Ultimately, the historian’s contextualization process must still lend itself to credulity, that is, to recognizing the honest experiences and humanity of those who have lived before while simultaneously relating the humanity of the past to that of the present (Marius & Page, 2012). The job of the historian is to bridge the contextual gulfs between the modern and the historical. Tosh’s (2010) third and final principle, process, connects the relationship of events as they occur over time (Rampolla (2010) uses the term causes to explain the same principle). Processes (or causes) avoid the myopic perspective of presenting historical events as independent and isolated occurrences. Through the practice of process, for example, the American occupation of the Philippines may be seen not just as an isolated event but as a chapter in the larger framework of 18th century manifest destiny ideology as well as the United States’ challenge to limit European government and Catholic church influence in the Western hemisphere.

Historic research: History as revisionism.

Why revisit topics and events that may already possess a large number of historic writings? Do we, for instance, really need another book on President Lincoln or the U.S. Civil War? For many, if not most, modern historians, the answer is yes because history is an active and constantly changing field (Brundage, 2018; Mabbett, 2007; Marius & Page, 2012; Rampolla, 2010). Brundage (2018) describes this “dynamic process” (p. 2) of writing history: [History] is a rich, varied, evolving intellectual system that allows us to achieve a deeper and better understanding of our world, indeed of ourselves. [...] [History] deals with the past, but it conceptualizes a past in constant dialog with an ever-advancing present, one that responds to new questions and reveals fresh insights into the human condition. (p. 2)

Brundage (2018) notes that “historians constantly search for fresh sources, approaches, methodological tools, and interpretations, in an effort to offer an ever-new past to whatever the present is” (p. 3). Similarly, Rampolla (2010) emphasizes the dynamics of history: “we will never know all there is to know about the past because we are constantly posing new questions, and our questions, in turn, help us see the past in new ways” (p. 4). “There is,” according to Brundage (2018), “quite simply, no such thing as a “definitive” treatment of any topic” (p. 16).

In this dynamic sense, then, all original historical writing should be revisionist by nature. Marius and Page (2012) reinforce this nod to revisionism, referring to it as the “not unusual” reinterpretation of facts and data by historians as well as the inclusion of new information. For Marius and Page (2012) revisionist history “is hardly a dangerous approach to the past … rather, it is the normal work of writing history” (p. 19). For these historians, history is always under revision because the unfolding present is dynamic and unpredictable; and it is from a mercurial and uncertain present that we look to an ever-irresolvable past for insights.

Historical research: Additional approaches.

Brundage (2018) outlines several forms that historical research may take: story, annalistes, cliometrics, psychohistory, postmodernism and linguistic turn, and macro / micro history. I visit each form briefly. Story history seeks to make meaning from a sequential presentation of historical events, usually limited to a specific timeframe. By contrast, an annalistes approach to history tends to downplay specific sequential events in order to look for underlying cultures and mentalities that come to shape an era. Annalistes examines la longue durée (the long duration) as opposed to specific political or individual events (Brundage, 2018; Mabbett, 2007). Cliometric historians examine history through the study of large volumes of quantitative, often economic, data while deemphasizing most non-numeric information. Psychohistorians use the latest psychological theories to understand how the inner workings of the individual mind “may discern the real—as opposed to the alleged—reason for an action or policy” (Brundage, 2018, p. 12). Meanwhile, a postmodernism approach to history “challenges the essentially modern belief (dominant since the Enlightenment) that human institutions, guided by reason and science, have tended to become progressively more tolerant and humane” (Brundage, 2018, p. 14). Postmodernism in historical research is often accompanied by what has become known as the linguistic turn where the interpretation of language, symbols, and meanings challenge the primacy of socio-political and economic causations (Brundage, 2018; Spiegel, 2009). Most critical approaches of critiquing power and privilege (feminist, queer, race, decolonial, postcolonial, etc.) fall within this postmodern approach. Macro and micro histories, meanwhile are largely determined by the breadth of time and the scope of populations that they examine. A macro study may look at history on a global scale (like global colonization trends since the 16th century), while a micro history might only look at a very narrow population (like

the experiences of American teachers living in rural Mindanao during the American occupation of the Philippines).

Historical Research: Source Material.

Source material is the foundation of historical research. Primary sources “are a document or an object written or created during the time under study by the people or organizations directly involved in the event and offers an ‘inside view’” (Williams & Wilkins, 2019, p. 76). Primary sources are largely unedited and non-reflective texts such as government records; newspaper reports; photographs and images; school policy, curriculum, and lesson plans; and personal firsthand accounts. A secondary source, meanwhile, “analyzes, interprets, assigns values to, provides conjecture on, summarizes, reorganizes, or draws conclusions about events reported in primary sources” (Williams & Wilkins, 2019, p. 76). Secondary sources often contextualize and analyze events with the author being temporally and distally disconnected from the occurrence itself. Secondary sources often include academic articles, historical accounts, and biographies. In a problem-oriented approach, the historical researcher identifies questions and deficiencies in the literature based on existing historiographies and then examines primary and secondary sources for answers to those questions (Tosh, 2010). Most historical research, rather than unearthing new material, involves asking new questions of well-known material (Tosh, 2010). “Historical research” notes Tosh (2010) “is not a matter of identifying the authoritative source and then exploiting it for all it is worth, for the majority of sources are in some way inaccurate, incomplete, or tainted by prejudice and self-interest” (pp. 109-110). This issue is true of both primary and secondary sources. Primary sources and secondary sources must all be examined for error and bias (Rousmaniere, 2004; Tosh, 2010). Even historical archives, often the Arcadia of the historian, provide no immunity to these distortions. Archives are “an instrument of government,” notes Tosh (2010, p 118). That is to say that archives reflect the priorities of governance, with a government working within its given capabilities and constraints (such as legal constraints, funding limitations, and staff talent) to choose what data is gathered, what is retained, and how it is organized in order to best achieve lawmaker prescribed goals. As governmental goals, collection methods, and archival techniques change and evolve over time, archival records also reflect these changes and inconsistencies, potentially requiring the historian

to adjust their methodology in order to accommodate any running differences in how data was collected and / or retained. Moreover, data silences, or data that is not collected, can create “black holes” (Lomawaima & McCarty, 2006, p. 12) that limit the archive’s ability to inform. For all its value, any assistance that an archive provides to the scholar of history is secondary to the archives’ governmental task.

Historical research: Tensions between historians and historians of education.

When comparing the work of education historians to that of “strict” historians, the expected telos of each field reveals striking and fundamental differences; while the means of these historians are similar, their ends differ drastically. Rousmaniere (2004) cautions education historians against embracing the principles of “strict” historians too closely. Historians of education are much more likely, she notes, to link their historical research to contemporary educational research (Rousmaniere, 2004). For education historians, “the history of education is ... integrally related to the present” and for that reason education historians often become “professional advocates” involved in contemporary education debates (Rousmaniere, 2004, p. 35). From the “strict historian” side of the aisle, Lambert and Schofield (2004) reinforce Rousmaniere’s message, noting that strict historians have always been “wary of neighboring disciplines,” particularly those that deal with “theory and generalizations” rather than the classically empirical and particular work of historians (p. 4). Lambert and Schofield (2004) argue that while the field of history is not known for producing grand theories, it is “adept and eclectic in adopting, testing and adapting theories produced by others” (p. 4). In this sense, and perhaps especially in the adoption of grand theories from the fields of sociology, economics, and philosophy, the fields of education and history share similar means, if not ends. Education historians are largely expected to historically validate the grand theories of other fields (e.g., psychology, sociology, management, etc.) for their contemporary applications in the field of education. By comparison, strict historians, having no accompanying field, are not expected to validate external fields of research. Where strict historians prioritize the study of history for the sake of objective clarity and understanding, education historians are largely expected to study history for the purpose of not just informing, but of also influencing contemporary education debates.

Critical Policy Analysis (CPA) I now turn to a second methodology employed in my research, Critical Policy Analysis (CPA). CPA is an emerging technique that critically “interrogates process, politics, and power” as they relate to policy (Horsford et al., 2019, p. 32). While a handful of scholars have used CPA in their research, very little has been written about the framework of the research itself (Horsford et al., 2019; Diem et al., 2014).

Critical vs Traditional Policy Analysis.

CPA differs from traditional policy analysis (TPA) by applying critical questions to the policymaking process. TPA has historically focused on the linear process of identifying problems, creating corrective policy, and implementing those policies, all in a manner, critics argue, that can be overly narrow in scope, unduly rational in approach, and excessively positivistic in seeking results (Horsford et al., 2019; Diem et al., 2014). By contrast “CPA is concerned with the subjectivity and complexity associated with all stages of the policy process” (Horsford et al., 2019, p. 32). CPA reshapes the limitations of a TPA process that “fails to account for unequal distributions of power, resources, and opportunity, and how they inform the extent to which policies work, for whom, and to what end” (Horsford et al., 2019, p. 21). CPA provides a framework for identifying how policy is often “infused with racism, classism, and patriarchy” in a way that TPA does not (Horsford et al., 2019, p. 33).

CPA: The “underlying concerns” and “key features.”

In an exploratory study of CPA as a research framework, Diem et al. (2014) report that they were unable to find “a singular or concrete definition of CPA” (p. 1084). They do, however, outline five “underlying concerns” of such research (p. 1083): 1. Interrogation of the policy process, the use of policy symbols and rhetorical devices as well as the delineation of the differences between policy rhetoric and policy reality. 2. Examination of the roots and development of policy, including how policies emerge, what problems they are intended to solve, and how they reinforce dominant culture. 3. Uncovering elements of social stratification, the distribution of power, resources, and knowledge in policy creation and implementation, and the creation of winners and losers.

4. Exploration of the broader and deeper effects of policy work, such as the institutionalization and the internalization of dominant culture. 5. Promoting agency, resistance, advocacy, and praxis.

Similarly, in a second and independent study of CPA a research framework, Horsford et al. (2019) identify five “key features” of CPA (p. 32): 1. Challenging traditional notions of power, politics, and governance. 2. Examining policy as discourse and political spectacle. 3. Centering the perspectives of the marginalized and oppressed. 4. Interrogating the distribution of power and resources. 5. Holding those in power accountable for policy outcomes.

While these five features seem largely self-explanatory, it is worth pausing for a moment on the term of political spectacle. Rebecca Rogers (2012) describes political spectacle as “the organization of appearances that are deceptive, superficial, and distracting” (p. 910). Spectacles create the appearance of progress despite actualities otherwise. Often created through press briefings, town meetings, and summits, political spectacles value appearances over substance (Edelman, 1988; Smith et al., 1999). By distracting from substantive deliberation and informed debate, such spectacles, notes Rogers (2012) “erode the foundation of democracy as they disallow genuine participation in decision making” (p. 910). Ultimately, CPA provides researchers with a means for analyzing policy beyond its face- value (Diem et al., 2014; Horsford et al., 2019; Young & Diem, 2017). I choose to employ CPA with this end in mind, applying CPA to a historical policy document, President McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, that shaped the environment for conflict-related education in the Philippines.

Methods (What My Research Actually Does) As previously mentioned, my research project develops the philosophy of cosmopolitanism by examining a foundational American government policy document that set the course for conflict-related education in the Philippines at the twilight of the 19th century, specifically, President William McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898.

Employing a combination of historical research and critical policy analysis (CPA), I unpack this foundational document to explore the history and intention behind it, especially as its rhetoric relates to forms of power, oppression, and privilege, as well as how this policy would shape education in the Philippines during the successive tenures of America’s “imperialist” Presidents: William McKinley (1897-1901), Theodore Roosevelt (1901-1909), and (to a lesser degree) William Howard Taft (1909-1913). My research looks back at the historical narratives that helped inform and shape McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, and it looks forward at key educational consequences that followed over the subsequent U.S. Republican Presidential administrations of McKinley, Roosevelt, and Taft (1897-1913). The philosophy and ethic of cosmopolitanism provides the theoretical framework for this research. Where I use historiography and CPA to examine and explain what was articulated by American political leaders, I then use cosmopolitanism to ask what might have happened if a different course of action (a more cosmopolitan-minded course of action) had been taken. To address my research questions, my scholarship consists of four primary activities: 1. Developing an original framework for understanding and exploring cosmopolitanism that builds on the literature around cosmopolitanism. This framework will be further developed by examining events of the Philippine-American conflict. 2. Developing a macro-level history of the Philippine-American conflict. Drawing almost exclusively on secondary sources, this history serves to provide a foundational understanding and narrative for the conflict. 3. Using the methodologies of critical policy analysis (CPA) and historiography, conduct an analysis of President William McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation of 1898. McKinley’s proclamation serves as a foundational government policy document that set the stage for both conflict and conflict-related education. 4. Develop conclusions. Using the framework of cosmopolitanism, develop conclusion about how education unfolded in the U.S.-Philippine conflict, how cosmopolitan ethics might have influenced that unfolding, and how cosmopolitan ethics might be used to shape future conflict-related educational sites.

A few notes on the limitations of this research.

Population. Almost exclusively, this research follows the conflict between the U.S. government and the Spanish / Catholic influenced population of the Philippines. Such research, however, ignores large populations across the Philippine archipelago that continued to follow animist and Islamic traditions despite Western colonial efforts otherwise (Kramer, 2006b; Milligan, 2004a, 2004b, 2005, Reuter, 1982). While the majority of the literature examines the U.S. interactions with the Catholic Filipino population, notable efforts have been made by scholars such as Paul Kramer (2006b) and Jeffery A. Milligan (2004a, 2004b, 2005) to examine U.S. education efforts with non-Catholic Filipino populations. Such research is beyond the scope of this study, however. Gendered references. In referring to the people of the Philippines, I have chosen to use the Spanish masculine term Filipino rather than the gender binary Filipino/a or the gender masking Filipinx. As my research largely focuses on a geo-political struggle at the end of the 19th century, the source literature almost exclusively uses the term Filipinos, and my use of the word Filipino is in line with the literature’s overwhelming and ongoing use of the term. Additionally, my research does not examine gendered participation in the Philippine-American conflict, and I wish to avoid linguistically signaling that it does. While the use of the word Filipino is intended as gender neutral, I acknowledge the normalization of masculinity that its use represents. Racial epithets. In chapter five I explicitly spell out several offensive racial slurs as I quote their use. This potentially controversial choice is worth addressing as the academy continues to debate the use of racial slurs in academic settings (see Inazu, 2020; also see Volokh, 2020). Why do this? Does the use of racial epithets perpetuate the original racism and hate speech behind the slur? Should we substitute such slurs with euphemisms? Or conversely, can or should racial epitaphs be explicitly called out in an effort to expose historically racist attitudes and policies? Weighing into this debate, Professor John Inazu (2020) argues that there is there is a “meaningful difference” between the academic and pedagogical use of a slur used in research or the classroom setting and “someone who utters a racial slur against another human being” (p. ix). Additionally, Professor Randall Kennedy (as cited in Volokh, 2020) argues that the use of substitutions and / or euphemisms “veils or mutes an ugliness that, for maximum educational impact, ought to be seen or heard directly” (para. 5). In academic research that examines social

structures (such as this dissertation), the historical use of racial slurs can provide invaluable insight into the culture(s), traditions, and society in which their user is rooted. As this dissertation will argue, the ethics of cosmopolitanism promotes social justice by demanding that we confront complex, unjust, disturbing, and often painful histories. This includes an examination of the often painful and disturbing use of language. To downplay or obfuscate the problematic language of the past would serve only to muddy and confuse an understanding of where we have come from, and correspondingly, further complicate the way forward. In accurately and thoughtfully reporting the past, by contrast, including research that unflinchingly exposes racial slurs in the context of self-interest and racial Othering, we create scholarship that ultimately contributes to a more socially just future.

CHAPTER IV: A FRAMEWORK FOR CONCEPTUALIZING COSMOPOLITANISM: RESPECT, RESPONSIBILITY, AND ROOTEDNESS.

I use this chapter to develop an original framework for conceptualizing cosmopolitanism. I argue that cosmopolitan can be evaluated in terms of three primary components: respect, responsibility, and rootedness. Though this chapter's introduction may appear to be a second literature review, let me assure the reader that this is not the case; rather this my own attempt to further understand, develop, and make usable the complex concept of cosmopolitan introduced in the chapter two literature review. In the chapters that follow I will return to this framework and these components, using the Philippine-American conflict as a site to explore cosmopolitanism and to apply this framework.

Introduction The meaning of cosmopolitanism is under perpetual construction and re-construction as scholars renegotiate and contest its onto-epistemological foundations and implications. Cosmopolitanism itself is an idea that dates back at least 2,500 years and crosses the borders of philosophy, political theory, sociology, culture, and education (Delanty, 2009). Despite the ages and contributing fields (or perhaps due to them), the meaning of cosmopolitan is far from settled. M. Victoria Costa (2006) notes that there is “no precise set of normative claims that unify all cosmopolitan positions” (cited in Hansen, 2011, p. 74). “The result” notes Costa (2006), “is often confusing and messy, with different theorists simply talking past one another” (p. 999). Many embrace this ambiguity. Sharon Todd justifies a resistance to defining cosmopolitanism as the term “invokes an openness to the indefinite and gestures to an unknown ‘beyond’” ... (cited in Papastephanou, 2012, p 171). David Hansen (2011) celebrates the uncertainty of the term as a strength, denoting a richness and history that accompany the infinite possibilities of productive human interactions. After a comprehensive review of cosmopolitan literature, Pollock et al. (2000) contend that “cosmopolitanism is infinite ways of being” (p. 588). To decisively define cosmopolitanism is to limit it, and to limit the possibilities of cosmopolitanism is to limit the potentiality of human relationships. Cosmopolitanism’s very flummoxing definitional fluidity provides witness to a concept that espouses perpetual transformative interactions.

The danger with such an unbounded definitional approach, however, is that cosmopolitanism becomes all things to all people—and hence a term without coherent foundation. When scholars do attempt to define cosmopolitanism, they often emerge with restrictive, incomplete, and oftentimes incoherent definitions (Papastephanou, 2012). Meanwhile, others take the scholarly shortcut of describing features of cosmopolitanism without ever providing a meaningful definition (yes, Appiah and Nussbaum, I’m talking about you). Papastephanou (2012) charges that cosmopolitanism’s “diverse but often incompatible meanings …. creates the impression that cosmopolitanism is elastic enough to mean just about anything related to globality” (p. 1). Hence, the term is often improperly conflated with ideas such as globalism, universality, and multiculturalism even while being improperly juxtaposed with concepts like patriotism and particularism. Though Papastephanou (2012) embraces cosmopolitan’s definition fluidity, she also calls scholars to task for their “unwillingness to engage in definitional dialogue” (p. 173). [...]If we cannot grasp the concept of a term (because grasping is just a hubristic, phallogocentric illusion), then [the scholarly response seems to be to] sidestep the whole problem and move on to a head-on discussion of the term. (Papastephanou, 2012, pp. 173-174).

Papastephanou (2012) charges that this practice of acknowledging a cosmopolitan essence without trying to elucidate what that essence is only contributes to the ongoing confusion about its meaning. As I can personally attest, cosmopolitanism is a slippery concept bound to both frustrate and delight its apprentice, journeyman, and (I suspect) master scholars. Inspired by my own discontent and exasperation as well as a sense of exhilaration, I use this chapter to work through the messiness and complexity of cosmopolitanism to propose a functional framework (if perhaps not a full-throated definition—apologies to Papastephanou) for its conceptualization (as well as a framework that I will use in later chapters). In good humor, my work dismisses Hansen’s (2011) warning that it might, in any way, result in limiting human interaction (as if that were even possible), while it concurrently embraces Papastephanou’s (2012) reminder that no definitional work is ever meant to be “the last word” or a subject (p. 172). Certainly, the work presented in this chapter will continue to develop. As with any definitional structure, the framework I forward here is necessarily reductionist in nature, examining cosmopolitanism through what I contend are its three primary

components: respect, responsibility, and rootedness (the 3Rs if you will). The first two of these components (respect and responsibility) have historic roots dating back hundreds, even thousands of years. They are associated with the classic notions of cosmopolitanism that emphasizes universal rights and responsibilities to others. An understanding of the third component (rootedness), though, has emerged in the last few decades from scholarship categorized as “new cosmopolitanism” (Hollinger, 2002). I first discuss each of these three components on its own merits. Each component contains positive and potentially negative aspects. It is only when all three components are fulfilled, I argue, that modern notions of cosmopolitanism are realized.

Respect Merriam-Webster defines respect as “the act of giving particular attention: consideration” and “high or special regard: esteem” (Respect, n.d.) Additionally, Robin S. Dillon (2018) states that “an attitude of respect is, most generally, a relation between a subject and an object in which the subject responds to the object from a certain perspective in some appropriate way” (p. 5). In this section I argue that in the context of cosmopolitanism, notions of respect entail recognizing the immutable dignity of all persons as free rational beings as well as recognizing that social justice and moral human flourishing occurs within traditions, cultures, and societies outside of one’s own. To develop this idea, I draw from the scholarship of Immanuel Kant, Robin S. Dillon, Eamonn Callan, David T. Hansen, and Marianna Papastephanou. Cosmopolitan notions of respect are neither easy nor simple to realize as many individuals and groups can be exploitative or even outright hostile to the cultures and traditions of others. Appiah (2006; also cited in Yates, 2009), for instance, challenges his readers to consider female genital mutilation (FGM) as culturally permissible within a worldview different than, but of equal moral validity to, that of Western liberalism. For many of Appiah’s readers, however, FGM is seen as a degrading practice that diminishes a human’s potential for living as full a life as possible. Some may then ask if cosmopolitan respect really requires the validation of such a practice? And if so, doesn’t this accommodation lead to an ethical relativism where all practices, however oppressive, degrading, or normatively unacceptable, demand equal respect? Consider other contemporary dilemmas for cosmopolitan respect. Does cosmopolitan respect also grant a moral validity to, for instance, the White supremacy movements of the American alt-

right? Does cosmopolitan respect require the moral validation of Indian Hindu fascist- nationalism at the expense of its Muslim citizens? Does cosmopolitan respect demand societal concessions for Uyghur re-education camps in Han-dominated China? What of Mormon and Muslim polygamy? Amish isolationism? What of conflicting cultural norms that confusticate the age of sexual consent, marriage, and pedophilia? And what of the practices within cultures and sub-cultures of preferencing or persecuting individuals because of their race, religion, sex, or sexual preference? This list, of course, goes on and on. Does cosmopolitanism really demand that these social and cultural practices warrant cosmopolitan respect? The short answer is no, …. but this answer requires an explanation.

Respect for persons.

As Dillon (2018) explains, “Kant was the first major Western philosopher to put respect for persons, including oneself as a person, at the very center of moral theory, … that persons are ends in themselves with an absolute dignity who must always be respected ....” (p. 3). When using the term respect, however, Kant differentiated between three Latin concepts of the word: respekt, reverentia, and observantia (Feinberg, 1973). Where respekt referred to a subject’s healthy fear of an object (like a healthy respect for lightning in a storm or fearing the wrath of a powerful politician) and reverentia referred to a subject’s awe-inspired respect for an object (like respect for a religious symbol or a national flag), observantia refers to a respect that deserves “moral consideration in its own right, independently of the considerations of [the subject’s] personal well being” (Dillon, 2018, p. 11). Unlike respekt or reverentia, Kant’s observantia- respect for persons is object-generated rather than subject-generated (Dillon, 2018). That is to say that observantia-respect is “something that is owed to, called for, deserved, elicited, or claimed by the object” (Dillon, 2018) and, therefore, the subject is categorically unable to deny it. Such respect is necessarily "motivated directly by consideration that the object is what it is, without reference to one's own interests and desires" (Dillon, 2018, pp. 9-10). Observantia- respect for a person is necessarily independent of the object’s virtues, morality, moral philosophy, religion, lived experience, abilities, titles, socioeconomic status, origins, or other attributes. As Dillon (2018) explains, Central to Kant’s ethical theory is the claim that all persons are owed respect just because they are persons, that is, free rational beings. To be a person is to have a status and worth that is unlike that of any other kind of being: it is to be an end in itself with dignity. And

the only response that is appropriate to such a being is respect. Respect for such beings is not only appropriate but also morally and unconditionally required: the status and worth of persons is such that they must always be respected. (p. 21)

Another way to think about Kant’s observantia-respect is to contrast it with what philosophy professor Stephen Hudson (1980) deems evaluative-respect. Evaluative-respect is “something which objects of respect may or may not deserve, merit, earn, or be worthy of, depending upon whether they meet (or fail to meet) certain standards" (Hudson, 1980, p. 71). Where Kantian observantia-respect is inviolable and always present, Hudson’s evaluative- respect ebbs and flows as an object meets our expectations. For the sake of linguistic simplicity, allow me to re-label Kantian observantia-respect as non-evaluative-respect in contrast to Hudson’s evaluative-respect.8 Both evaluative and non- evaluative respect are simultaneously applicable to any given person-object; the former being subject-generated and the latter being object generated. An example may prove useful here. For a given politician whose policies we disagree with, we (the subject) may generate negative evaluative-respect for the politician (the object) as a policymaker who fails to meet our expectations; however, that same politician, as a person-object, continues to generate immutable non-evaluative-respect simply by their existence as a “free rational being.” Thus, both forms of respect are associated with a single individual. Dillon (2018) notes that Kantian observantia-respect (what I am calling non-evaluative- respect) contains both negative-action and positive-action implications. ... we respect others as persons (negatively) by doing nothing to impair or destroy their capacity for autonomy, by not interfering with their autonomous decisions and their pursuit of [the] (morally acceptable) … ends they value, and by not coercing or deceiving them or treating them paternalistically. We also respect them (positively) by protecting them from threats to their autonomy (which may require intervention when someone's current decisions seem to put their own autonomy at risk) and by promoting autonomy and the conditions for it (for example, by allowing and encouraging individuals to make their own decisions, take responsibility for their actions, and control their own lives). (p. 28)

8 To be clear, Hudson’s 1980 essay does not contrast his evaluative-respect with Kantian observantia-respect. Rather, Hudson considers evaluative-respect to be one of four types of the respect (evaluative, directive, institutional, and obstacle). For a detailed discussion see Hudson, 1980.

The implications of non-evaluative-respect are far-reaching, and weighing its negative and positive manifestations can be complicated, if not paralyzing. Does non-evaluative-respect, in a given manifestation, demand intervention (positive action) or non-intervention (negative action)? If intervention, then where do we draw the line between productive intervention, paternalism, and neo-colonialism (presupposing such a delineation is possible)? Additionally, one may rightly wonder if every person truly warrants non-evaluative- respect. What of sociopathic-murderer-rapists, the leaders of human genocide campaigns, and the worst perpetrators of man’s inhumanity to man? Ultimately, Kant argues that non- evaluative-respect is immutable. That is to say that this kind of respect cannot be exchanged for any good or service nor can it be lost through misdeed. Though they [the person-object] may deserve the most severe condemnation and punishment and may have forfeited their rights to freedom and perhaps to life, [they] still remain persons to whom we have obligations of respect, since the grounds of respect are independent of moral merit or demerit. (Dillon, 2018, p. 19).

Even in their punishment, Kantian non-evaluative-respect is retained by perpetrators of crimes. Violations of this respect (such as the torture, sexual assault, or other physical humiliation of prisoners by their captor) thus becomes a moral and ethical affront to humanity writ large.

Respect versus civility.

To further explore respect, allow me to compare it with the closely related concept of civility. Eamonn Callan (2016) considers civility “the personal virtue we show when we express respect for others’ dignity in how we interact directly with them” (p. 70). Unlike respect, civility is a public politeness that requires neither agreement with, nor validation of, the opposing worldviews of others. In their chapter on civility, James Banner, Jr. and Harold Cannon (1999) note that civility is explicitly linked to one’s external actions but not to their moral attitudes. Civility is speaking and acting, and allowing others to do the same, in non-injurious ways; “civility has to do with both your bearing and your acts - but not with your beliefs or feelings” (Banner & Cannon, 1999, p. 93, emphasis mine). In other words, one may be civil without making underlying moral accommodations for those to whom we extend that civility. Respect, by contrast, requires a moral concession that civility does not; respect requires acknowledging the Other as a moral being shaped and informed by traditions, culture(s), and society. Where civility is by nature a monological self-virtue, respect is instead a relational

approach to the Other. To respect another is to be reflectively open to the moral foundations of their arguments, their culture(s), and their way(s) of life. Such cosmopolitan respect involves crossing the borders of one’s own mind to engage with the Other on their terms (Papastephanou, 2012). David T. Hansen (2011) refers to such an approach as “learning from rather than merely tolerating value differences'' (p. 8). “To learn is to absorb, to metabolize the new into the known such that the latter itself takes on new qualities” (Hansen, 2011, p. 8).9 By practicing non- evaluative-respect for the Other, the cosmopolitan learner is thus transformed (though this change need not be great, even marginal / incremental growth results in some small degree of transformation). Non-evaluative-respect does not seek epistemological agreement, but it does require an acknowledgment and a consideration that the Others’ lived experience in the world is valid and of worth. In an educational sense, a cosmopolitan respect reflects what Hansen (2011) refers to as a “willingness to learn from or with other traditions and human inheritances” (p. 24). It is an “openness to being formed, not merely informed” though our relation with the Other (Papastephanou, 2012, p. 90). Ultimately, non-evaluative-respect necessarily manifests as a humility in one’s personal philosophy. That humility stems from an appreciation that the lives of Others, which are informed by philosophies and lived experiences different from one’s own, are of moral worth. The challenge of respect becomes particularly acute when considering specific contemporary customs and lived experiences in the world. In the modern United States, the debate over women’s reproductive rights (especially abortion) serves to highlight a difference between civility and respect. Civility requires that all sides of this issue be afforded a space in which to present their arguments. Civility does not, however, require any side to acknowledge or validate the moral or ethical grounds of opposing arguments. To be civil is to allow differing individuals a space to express their lived experiences but without acknowledging the moral validity of that experience. Non-evaluative-respect, by contrast, demands not only that one allow other viewpoints but that one enters the conversation predisposed to the moral validity of the Other and ready to be personally “formed” by that conversation (Papastephanou, 2012).

9 Hansen’s explanation evokes Restivo’s and Delanty’s notions of cosmopolitanism creating ‘third cultures’ (see chapter two).

Cosmopolitan notions of respect do not demand agreement, but they do demand a healthy dialogue with the Other as a moral equal.

Respect for traditions, cultures, and societies.

Respect for individuals is one thing; respect for traditions, cultures, and societies is a somewhat different matter, however. It is worth reiterating (from the chapter two literature review) that the cosmopolitan tradition places a premium on individuals rather than social and cultural practices. Cosmopolitanism’s focus on individual persons is a fundamental and important emphasis to make, and this approach largely distinguishes cosmopolitanism from multiculturalism (which, by contrast, places a premium on cultures rather than individuals). Non-evaluative Kantian observantia-respect is a respect for individuals as autonomous moral agents (free rational beings) regardless of their tradition, culture, society, or social status. As such, cosmopolitanism demands respect for an individual’s autonomous decisions to accept, reject, or negotiate particular cultural and societal norms. However, neither Kant nor cosmopolitanism extends non-evaluative-respect to a tradition, culture, or a society itself. Stated another way, individual persons as free rational beings warrant irreducible object-generated non- evaluative-respect whereas cultural and social practices (which are not free rational beings) instead warrant subject-generated evaluative-respect. Even more succinctly, the cosmopolitan minded actor is required to respect the person but not the traditions, culture(s), or society to which that individual adheres. Some examples may bring this argument into focus. For instance, a cosmopolitan minded actor is required to respect an astrologer as a moral human agent but is not required to respect the tradition of astrology. Similarly, the cosmopolitan is required to respect a person practicing neo-Nazism as a free rational being but is not required to respect the tradition to which that individual subscribes. Cosmopolitanism espouses a respect for individuals living within, and even participating in, authoritarian social regimes, but those authoritarian regimes themselves are subject to the evaluative-respect and judgement of the cosmopolitan actor. Now, if we are going to call upon the cosmopolitan minded actor to make evaluative- respect judgements of traditions, cultures, and societies, then it would also be proper to identify evaluative criteria along these lines. For such criteria I necessarily return to non-evaluative- respect of persons. Cosmopolitan minded actors must necessarily evaluate traditions, cultures,

and societies on their ability to deliver non-evaluative-respect to the individual. That is to say that they must be able to evaluate those systems on their ability to deliver cherished cosmopolitan ideals such as extending justice, dignity, and agency to the individual. Ultimately, this means evaluating a social system (a culture or tradition) based on its ability to promote individual human flourishing while delivering justice and dignity to the individuals within that system. Moreover, I argue that a cosmopolitan-minded actor should not shy away from these evaluations. As Papastephanou (2012) argues, “[...] moral / ethical assessments of different cultural orientations and practices are both inescapable and necessary if we are to avoid an “anything goes” stance on everything” (p. 130). The cosmopolitan minded actor necessarily takes a “critical stance toward what happens in the world and how collectivities act” (Papastephanou, 2012, p. 205). ... ‘anything goes’ concessions to the other are self-serving (as they make it easy for the self to uphold the facile moralist self-image of the one who always gives priority to the other). Worse, such concessions are, ultimately, condescending or insulting to the other, as they assume that the other requires your indulgence and ‘tolerance’. As I see it, to confront the other when necessary means that you consider the other capable of justice and willing to engage in critical dialogue about ‘bloody truths.’ (Papastephanou, as cited in Peters, 2014)

Unconstrained by non-evaluative-respect for fellow human beings (as free rational beings), the idea of respect itself potentially deteriorates into the anything-goes world of ethical relativism, the idea that “different cultural value beliefs should be equally respected” (Quantz; 1984, p. 35). Instead, however, cosmopolitanism embraces the idea of cultural relativism—that “different cultural experiences create different beliefs of value” (Quantz, 1984, p. 35)—even as it is critical of the idea of ethical relativism. In other words, social and cultural practices that do not promote justice, dignity, or human flourishing, or that promote these ideas for some at the notable expense of others, warrant a tempered cosmopolitan respect. Constrained by human flourishing and social justice considerations, it is arguable that the previous examples of American White supremacy, Hindu fascist-nationalism, and Chinese Uyghur re-education should be subject to dramatically tempered cosmopolitan respect and perhaps even cosmopolitan-minded opposition. A cosmopolitan-minded individual should participate in conversations about controversial social practices while making an honest attempt to evoke a moral foundation for these practices. However, that same individual is also justified in finding certain social practices to be of limited moral value if they undermine the dignity and

agency of targeted peoples. Similarly, imposed FGM, which irreversibly impairs an individual’s sexual experience (arguably limiting human flourishing), may strike one as being of limited cosmopolitan respect as well.10 Additionally, oppressions based on race, religion, sex, sexual orientations, and other arbitrary differentiations should also be subject to tempered cosmopolitan respect. This is not to imply that a respect moderated by justice and flourishing always results in clear lines of demarcation, but rather that notions of social justice and human flourishing do provide a starting point from which to bound and evaluate cosmopolitan respect. In short, if social and cultural practices result in violence to social justice, human rights, political autonomy, or other cherished cosmopolitan values (stemming from non-evaluative-respect for the individual), then they warrant a respect that is attenuated (perhaps to zero) by the cosmopolitan- minded subject evaluator. One might ask if a cosmopolitan minded actor can truly demonstrate respect for an individual without also fully respecting that individual’s traditions, culture(s), and society. I submit that they can for several reasons. First, evaluative-respect is rarely binary in nature, and one need not fully accept or discard any social system or cultural tradition outright. Instead, one is usually able to quickly grasp the key aspects of a social system that promotes human flourishing even as they identify the limitations and inequities that exist within that system. Seeing such discrepancies, the cosmopolitan-minded actor might then work to promote conversation regarding the benefits and limitations of various social systems. Second, the cosmopolitan-minded actor is not rating various cultural practices on a ratio scale and crowning an evaluative-respect victor, but instead they are developing a deeper and more nuanced understanding of the Other by understanding that individual’s socio-cultural groundings. Moreover, the cosmopolitan-minded actor is open to being formed (and not merely informed) by this relational experience (Papastephanou, 2012). Finally, cosmopolitanism eschews an essentialism attributed to tradition and / or culture; no free rational being can be reduced to their

10 Some may counter that FGM promotes flourishing as a freedom from lust and / or sexual desire. Even if this argument were sound, a cosmopolitanism evaluative-respect approach would insist on the informed consent and active agency (e.g., legal adulthood) of the recipient of such a potentially flourish-limiting procedure.

traditions or culture(s). We can assess traditions, cultures, and societies without ascribing them, “as inherent in the Other’s essence” (Papastephanou, 2012, p. 130). Cosmopolitan respect moderated by notions of justice and flourishing ultimately result in more meaningful and productive cosmopolitan inspired conversations by requiring parties to evaluate the sources of their cultural convictions rather than the cultural practices themselves (Appiah, 2006). Appiah (2006), for instance, suggests that all sides of the debate over female reproductive rights start with recognizing a fundamental respect for human flourishing; the division of opinions stems from a disagreement as to whose flourishing takes priority and when. It is from this common baseline of human flourishing that respectful discussions on reproductive rights should begin (Appiah, 2006). More broadly, Hansen (2011) contends that cosmopolitan understanding “does not presume unbridgeable axiological, ontological, or epistemological divides…. Mutual understanding is not easy or assured, but there are no barriers that render such understanding permanently impossible” (p. 52). In other words, one need not agree with the Other’s argument or the argument’s socio-cultural foundations, but a cosmopolitan respect demands that one be open to the object-person’s moral and socio-cultural foundations. Undoubtedly, this can sometimes be a challenging standard to meet, but the broader point is that it is possible to respect the individual while respectfully challenging / evaluating their social customs. Notions of respect move the cosmopolitan-minded actor toward realizing cosmopolitanism as they necessarily negotiate non-evaluative-respect for individuals and evaluative-respect for traditions, cultures, and societies. Despite this productive tension, however, respect alone cannot independently realize cosmopolitanism. As previously discussed, respect contains the inherent risk of devolving into an ethical relativism when unchecked by cherished cosmopolitan values like social justice and human flourishing. Additionally, without the attendant cosmopolitan components of responsibility and rootedness (discussed in later sections of this chapter), respect potentially devolves into a divisive exercise of dispensing stinging criticisms without negotiating productive ways forward. In subsequent chapters, I explore how U.S. education policy in the Philippines, which lacked both a non-evaluative- respect for the people of the Philippines as well as an evaluative-respect for their traditions, culture(s), and communities, worked in the most anti-cosmopolitan of ways to mold Filipinos in the idealized image of the North American White settler.

Responsibility The second component of my cosmopolitanism framework is responsibility. Merriam- Webster defines responsibility as a “quality or state of being” associated with “moral, legal, or mental accountability” (Responsibility, n.d.) Additionally, Sarah Stitzlein (2017) states that “responsibility entails a sense of obligation and a concern for the consequences of one’s actions” (p. 98). In this section I argue that in the context of cosmopolitanism, responsibility includes both recognizing one’s moral obligations to Others and envisioning ends and enacting means in order to realize those obligations. To develop this idea, I draw from the scholarship of John Dewey, Randolph Clark, Gary Watson, and Zygmunt Bauman.

Responsibility-as-attribution.

“We are responsible for our conduct,” wrote John Dewey (1891), “because that conduct is ourselves objectified in actions” (pp. 160-161). For Dewey, responsibility revealed attributes related to the quality and character of an individual agent (Watson, 1996). As Dewey (1891) explains, … when any result has been foreseen, and adopted as foreseen, such result is the outcome not of any external circumstances, nor of mere desires and impulses, but of the agent's conception of his own end. Now, because the result thus flows from the agent's own conception of an end, he feels himself responsible for it. ... It is because a result flows from the agent’s ideal of himself, the thought of himself which he considers desirable or worth realizing, that that the agent feels himself responsible. The result is simply an expression of himself; a manifestation of what he would have himself to be. Responsibility is thus one aspect of the identity of character and conduct. (pg. 160)

Expanding on Dewey’s argument, Gary Watson (1996) writes that “to be a responsible agent is to have what Dewey calls ‘moral capacity,’ which is the power to ‘put various ends before the self’” (p. 227). Dewey’s responsible moral agent is thus both the “adopter of ends” and the “author of [their own] conduct” in achieving those ends (Watson, 1996, p. 229). Watson (1996) considers such a responsibility "central to [the] ethical life and ethical appraisal" (p. 229) of that agent. This Deweyan notion of responsibility-as-attribution is the idea that responsibility reflects the character of the individual moral agent (Shoemaker, 2011; Talbert, 2019; Watson,

1996; Wolf, 1990). It is, as David Shoemaker (2011) explains, responsibility as the “actions or attitudes being properly attributable to—reflective of—the agent’s self” (p. 604). Succinctly, responsibility-as-attribution is a “self-disclosure” of the character of the individual actor (Talbert, 2019, p. 28).

Responsibility-as-accountability.

Gary Watson (1996) compliments this Deweyan notion of responsibility with the concept of responsibility-as-accountability. Where the Deweyan responsibility-as-attribution is a virtue- laden, monological reflection of the self, Watson’s responsibility-as-accountability is relational, referring to an individual agent’s interrelations with other moral beings. This responsibility recognizes the moral agency of fellow human beings (i.e., other free rational actors) to place demands on a subject-agent (Shoemaker, 2011). Responsibility-as-accountability is thus associated with moral “relationship-defining demands” (Shoemaker, 2011, p. 623) as it considers an agent’s relational obligations to others (Talbert, 2019). Responsibility-as-accountability demands that an agent consider not just their own moral inclinations (i.e., Deweyan attributions) but that they also express a sensitivity to the interests of others (Shoemaker, 2011; Watson, 1996). Responsibility-as-accountability is not without controversy, however; and debates on the topic tend to center around the tension between one’s agency and one’s environment (Dewey, 1891; Shoemaker, 2011; Talbert, 2019; Watson, 1996; Wolf, 1990). Arguments favoring responsibility-as-accountability (or the attribution thereof) contend that individual actors deserve blame and / or praise as autonomous agents who are fully accountable for their actions. Conversely, arguments against responsibility-as-accountability maintain that one’s values and moral character are developed under conditions beyond their control, and, as no-one is a self- creating autonomous agent, no-one can be held fully responsible for their actions. Given this framework, the question of responsibility then largely becomes a binary choice between (1) agency and full responsibility (i.e., being free to make decisions) and (2) environment and no responsibility (i.e., being unfree, determinism). Randolph Clark (2005) offers a promising alternative to this binary question by suggesting a mid-point between agency and environment. Clark (2005) proposes that we think of individuals not as free or unfree, but as agents working with finite capacity and bounded

options; these individuals (as imperfect agents) then act within their limited range of abilities to enact self-changes so as to acquire responsibility (Clark, 2005; Talbert 2019). From Clark’s argument, it follows that one becomes a responsible agent through the cultivation and education of the Self (cultivation and education being acts of self-change). In other words, we become responsible by creating ourselves as responsible actors, and it is only through our own agency, our own cultivation and education, that we create our responsibility. The implications of Clark’s (2005) argument for creating responsibility are far reaching, and Clark provides cosmopolitan- minded actors (and particularly cosmopolitan-minded educators) an important foundation to build upon. Zygmunt Bauman’s postmodern scholarship reinforces Clark’s argument by proposing that any external ascriptions of responsibility are really only a denial of personal responsibility (Biesta & Stams, 2001). Proclamations as dissimilar as “the devil made me do it,” “because I was raised right,” and (perhaps most far-reaching) “because it's the law” renounce responsibility by ascribing it beyond the self. For Bauman, the responsibility of the autonomous moral agent is always there, whether one recognizes it or not, and it cannot be obfuscated behind traditions, customs, or society (Biesta & Stams, 2001). Bauman’s individual moral agent does not get to decide if they are responsible to Others because such an innate responsibility is inescapable (Biesta & Stams, 2001); they do, however, get to decide if they will act on that responsibility. As with Clark’s concept of responsibility, Bauman’s also contains significant implications for education. Where the implication of Clark is that one becomes responsible through their education, the implication of Bauman is that one learns to recognize their inherent and pre-existing responsibility through their education. In either instance, however, the larger argument is that education impresses the actor to responsibility. It is then only through our internalized and self-cultivated powers, capacities, understandings, and approaches to Others, which are developed through education, that we may ever assume responsibility. Expanding Dewey’s (1891), Clark’s (2005), and Bauman’s (cited in Biesta & Stams, 2001) scholarship to the cosmopolitan tradition, then, responsibility is the idea that an agent works to recognize their moral obligation to Others (those beyond their own tribal boundaries) and then purposefully acts (envisioning ends and enacting means) to meet those recognized obligations.

Responsibility-as-paternalism.

A danger of responsibility is that it degrades into paternalism. Paternalism is the idea that a strong authoritarian actor (often a fatherly figure, employer, institution, or government) possesses an irrevocable right, and perhaps even a duty, to intervene how and where they see fit in order to promote the beneficence and welfare of a charge (often a child, student, employee, or a subordinated people) (Defert, 1991; Liu & Macdonald, 2016; Pasquino, 1991; Procacci, 1991). Paternalism is often appropriate in an adult's relationships with children as children “are generally not the best decision-makers when it concerns their own well-being and personal development” (Robeyns, 2006, p. 79). As children develop, however, the authority figure’s paternalism incrementally and necessarily gives way to the self-determinism and agency of the maturing decision maker. Paternalism that extends into adulthood, however, is largely inappropriate as it potentially infantilizes the adult and destroys their self-respect. Similarly, paternalism in the affairs of a self-determining people, a frequent tool of colonization and ongoing neo-colonization projects, works to stunt the development of the people (Gillette, 1973; Saleem & Rizvi, 2011). The language of colonization is littered with paternalistic references to subaltern colonized people as childlike and in need of adult (colonial) supervision. Michel Foucault (cited in Defert, 1991, also cited in Procacci, 1991) argues that such paternalism extends the powers of authority without conferring rights to the subordinate, only liabilities. The paternalized subordinate, for instance, is liable for obeying the laws but is not given the authority to create the laws. As such, responsibility-as-paternalism has the potential to manifest in a modern-day version of Kipling’s White Man’s Burden as developed- world institutions and governments respond with developed-world solutions to the self-perceived needs of Others. Exactly what one’s cosmopolitan responsibilities to Others may be is the subject of much debate. Kantian observantia-respect for the individual person as a free rational being (i.e., non- evaluative-respect) surely provides a partial answer, binding cosmopolitan responsibility to notions of social justice and human flourishing. Additionally, charity and international aid are also often forwarded as a means for meeting cosmopolitan responsibilities (Appiah, 2006; Dobson, 2006; Faulkner, 2017; Liu & MacDonald, 2016; Nussbaum, 2020; Peterson, 2004; Singer, 1997). Other scholars counter, however, that such aid is often little more than degenerative paternalistic overtures that reinforce the economically superior position of the giver

(Papastephanou, 2012). If a sense of justice is at the heart of cosmopolitan responsibility, then the process of deliberative justice, which values the voices and democratic association of all affected stakeholders (Morrow, 2011; Papastephanou, 2012), may provide a way forward. Papastephanou (2012) describes deliberative justice as follows: Deliberative justice encompasses ethical, political, and legal concerns without taking any viewpoints as nonnegotiable and as granted prior to dialogue. [... It] should focus critically on ethical expectations, harken to the Other, and thematize those asymmetries in existential positions that harm the cosmopolitan spirit. [... It] should have a reforming effect on people, thus going beyond negotiation and mere compromise. (pp. 214-215)

In other words, and for the purposes of this chapter’s argument, the process of deliberative justice provides a means for one to become aware of their responsibilities to Others without a degeneration into paternalism. In this sense, deliberative justice is inherently a form of cosmopolitan-minded education. If deliberative justice is a means for becoming aware of one’s responsibilities, however, it does not constitute an end. The cosmopolitan-minded actor still has the requirement of purposeful action (envisioning ends and enacting means) to meet those responsible obligations. These actions may include facilitating restorative justice (based on longstanding historical entanglements) as well as distributive justice (which is more purposeful, deliberate, and obligatory than the simple giving of charity / aid). Ultimately, cosmopolitan responsibility is realized in the formative interaction with the Other. It is a process evokes the creation Restivo’s cosmopolitanism as a “third culture.”11 As with notions of respect, however, responsibility alone cannot realize cosmopolitanism. Where respect contains an inherent risk of ethical relativity, responsibility contains an inherent risk of paternalism. The combination (ethical relativity & paternalism) may lead an individual to intervene as they see fit, where any intervention is as good (in relative terms) as any other (though these interventions are likely to maximize hedonistic misinterpretations of cosmopolitanism). Problematically, such hedonism may take the form of the perpetual tourist who consumes global diversity as a form of entertainment. Devoid of a sense of history, all traditions and cultural landmarks risk becoming reduced to amusements and curiosities.

11 Restivo’s “third culture” is introduced in the literature review of chapter two.

Likewise, a wide variety of societal structures (in the form of tax structures, environmental policies, workforce training, etc.) are likely to provide a smorgasbord of profit- maximizing options for the morally relative, paternalistic, and rootless global entrepreneur. Lacking a sense of home to build from, this rootless approach contains no foundation from which to offer notions of social justice or human flourishing. It is an approach that takes without giving; a life that Appiah (2006) warns of containing “icy impartiality” (p. xvii)) and that Nussbaum (2008) calls devoid of “particular attachments” (p.80). As I will discuss in the following section, however, the third component of rootedness promotes traditions and social structures in which the Self may be morally grounded. From this rooted structure, one builds conditions for cosmopolitan notions of social justice and human flourishing; and from this rooted structure, one has a sense of history, and one understands and respects their own ongoing entanglements in this history.

Rootedness The third and final component of my cosmopolitan framework is rootedness. Rootedness derives from the possession or development of roots, which Merriam-Webster defines as “something that is an origin or source, … an underlying support, … the essential core” (Root, n.d.). In the field of psychology, rootedness is considered the “imperative to originate relationships or links with other individuals which offer emotional safety and function to minimize [an individual’s] seclusion and unimportance…” (Pam, 2013). Having largely covered the idea of cosmopolitan rootedness in the chapter two literature review, I will say only a few words here towards its development but more about its implications. As it relates to cosmopolitanism, I use this section to argue that rootedness is a critical groundedness in one's own traditions, culture(s), and society. It is creating and maintaining a home in the world in which one is capable and proud to receive Others as moral equals (Hansen, 2017).

Implications of rootedness.

Cosmopolitan rootedness is much more than simply existing within a culture. It requires the study and deep understanding of one’s particular home in the world. To be rooted is to form meaningful attachments and to possess meaningful traditions while also possessing a critical understanding of each. Rootedness means comprehending and appreciating the strengths of

one’s culture as well as the shortcomings and limitations of one’s traditions. Cosmopolitan rootedness thus transcends communitarian loyalty to one’s tribe; cosmopolitan rootedness is being part of a tribe without being tribal. As many scholars note, rooted cosmopolitanism frequently (if somewhat counterintuitively) builds upon communitarian instruments (Appiah, 2006; Hansen, 2011; Nussbaum, 2020; Papastephanou, 2012; Rönnström, 2016). As with Hierocles’ ancient notion of expanding concentric circles, an individual’s rootedness within a particular community and the reciprocating loyalties of that community are often foundational to expanding those values to a yet wider community. Niclas Rönnström (2016) expands on this idea, … rooted cosmopolitanism builds on the view that the very same local and national identities that bind people together can mobilize moral commitment to global others. Moreover, it involves the view that rooted attachments can bring about extended moral commitment to distant others because it can actually be the case that one’s local or national attachment motivates extensive commitments since that is what is required from such attachments. (p. 135)

Rooted cosmopolitanism recognizes that even a finite and delimited realization of cosmopolitan values is (1) fundamental to a wider realization of those values and (2) surely better than no realization at all. Under cosmopolitan rootedness, socio-political institutions such as the nation- state and social / cultural institutions like religion, often regarded as anti-cosmopolitan for their innate tribalism, can become, in practice, primary instruments for realizing cosmopolitan cherished values to a delimited population (Appiah, 2006; Rönnström, 2016). It is no contradiction that a cosmopolitan-minded actor, for instance, may work within their own nation- state to thoughtfully and critically protect and expand the freedoms of that state while simultaneously helping to realize similar freedoms for those residing elsewhere. By building on the structures of institutions in which one's own political-agency and self-determination are rooted (and thus, ideally, assured), cosmopolitan values are (at least partially) realized. Such an approach, however, also demands a critical examination of one’s own conditions, how those conditions might contribute to the oppression of the Other, and how such oppression might be mitigated or abolished. Cosmopolitan rootedness also demands historical understanding and an appreciation for what Papastephanou (2012) refers to as the “reverberations … of historical entanglement” (p. 243). Cosmopolitanism must be aware of the past. As Rönnström (2016) argues,

cosmopolitanism itself “cannot be derived merely from abstract categories such as ‘humanity’ and ‘the world.’ It must resonate with particular cultures, identities and persons, …” (p. 135). Particular cultures, identities, and persons, however, have particular histories that are consequential and meaningful as well as often painful, oppressive, and disturbing. It is especially the painful and disturbing histories that rooted cosmopolitanism challenges us to confront and work through. As Papastephanou (2012) explains Cosmopolitanism cannot just be about new influences, opportunities, and opportune time; it has to do with handling old ethical debts, developing historical consciousness, being able to perceive how the past influences the present. (pp. 243-244)

Rootedness thus invites a cosmopolitan spirit of openness that is informed by and reflective of the past. “A more complete knowledge of one's own past and present reveals the entanglement of one’s community with others and the debt that entanglement may have generated for both sides” (Papastephanou, 2012, pp. 213). Only through a clear-eyed examination of the past is the cosmopolitan-minded actor able to expose and deal with issues of justice that have emerged “out of the continuity of the effects of past handlings” (Papastephanou, 2012, pp. 212). Furthermore, historical examination often roots the cosmopolitan-minded actor in what Papastephanou (2012) calls … unresolved problems, historical injustices still informing political conflicts, apologies that were never made, and failures to heighten consciousness of ethical responsibility and to make practical amends for older responsibilities. (p. 211)

To paraphrase and build on Appiah (2006), rooted cosmopolitanism necessarily involves historically informed conversations with strangers.

Challenges of rootedness.

A challenge for rooted orientations is that, lacking a critical, cosmopolitan-minded orientation, it devolves into ideology, that is, an inherent belief in the moral superiority of one’s own traditions, culture(s), and lived experience. As with respect, however, notions of social justice and human flourishing serve to constrain the potential ideology of rooted traditions. Rootedness implores the cosmopolitan-minded agent to promote those local traditions, cultural practices, and societal norms that advance individual human flourishing while simultaneously challenging, restricting, and / or eliminating unjust customs and practices. As such, rootedness for the cosmopolitan-minded agent is a focus on promoting just human flourishing within their

own society and in developing and advancing their own anti-oppressive local traditions. Rootedness includes, then, a strengthening of socially just local rights and responsibilities that may be extended to the global (Rönnström, 2016) in a manner that is thoughtful, deliberative, and democratic (i.e., not manipulative, forceful, or restrictively universal). One might argue that rootedness is nothing more than respect (this framework’s first cosmopolitan value) turned inward; that is, that rootedness is a form of self-respect. In the cosmopolitan context, I contend that these concepts do contain similarities but that they are not two sides of the same argument. If respect is appreciating that Others live in worthy homes12, albeit homes that we may not live in ourselves, then rootedness is the far more difficult work of maintaining a home of which we can be proud. Rootedness is not just admiring the landscaping or pointing out a leaky roof (as evaluative-respect might do with other cultures and traditions), rather rootedness is the work of planting the flowers and shingling the roof ourselves. The cosmopolitan-minded agent can appreciate the otherwise sound structural integrity of another’s home despite a few flaws. They might point out a leaky roof and even offer to help fix it, but ultimately the leak is the responsibility of the homeowner. The cosmopolitan-minded agent should not tolerate such disrepair in their own home, however. They should not want to live under a leaky roof nor want to invite guests into such a deficient dwelling. Cosmopolitan rootedness can be found in forceful calls from leaders who demand that our traditions, culture(s), and societies (i.e., our homes) aspire toward expanding social justice and improving human flourishing. History is rife with examples. Jose Rizal called for a 19th century Spain to recognize the moral and political agency of Filipinos within the Spanish empire. Mohandas Gandhi appealed to the highest legal traditions of British law to recognize the dignity and political agency of the people of India. Martin Luther King, Jr. appealed to the declarations of a nation that has yet to realize all persons as created equal. Yet, this call to rootedness may also come at great personal expense: Rizal was executed by the state; both Gandhi and King were assassinated by ideological opponents. Still, regardless of the dangers, cosmopolitan rootedness can provide a north star from which an individual may morally navigate one’s

12 In this context, I ask the reader to envision a “home” as physical structure (a house) that one considers uniquely their own, but with the broader intent of that “home” serving an analogy for one’s own particular traditions, culture(s), and / or society. Home is the place from where we come, and home is the particular context from which we extend cosmopolitan ethics.

meaningful but imperfect cultures and traditions. Cosmopolitan rootedness compels us to tend to the justice and morality of our own traditions, culture(s), and society in a way that evaluate- respect for other cultures does not. As with respect and responsibility, rootedness cannot realize cosmopolitanism alone. Potentially negative aspects of rootedness contribute to notions of ideology, that is, an inherent belief in one’s tribal superiority. Combined with the paternalistic negative aspects of responsibility, rootedness and responsibility may lead to a missionary zeal that insists on the moral righteousness of one’s cause. This dangerous combination (paternalism and ideology) has contributed to centuries of colonialism justified by causes like religion, civilization, and modernization (Tully, 2014). Without an accompanying respect for the Other, one may rationalize eliminating the otherness of those one encounters as one is justified in imposing one’s superior systems and one’s superior values. The subalternized Other is thus mis-shaped in the mold of a civilized / modernized Self. The first cosmopolitan component of respect, however, helps to balance this potentially dangerous approach to the Other. By recognizing that there are multiple valid ways of living, one’s impulse to impress their own will is checked. One can certainly offer assistance, but (except in the most egregious of circumstances—like interrupting genocide) they cannot impose it. By including respect, the Other is freed to accept, reject, or negotiate the available assistance of those they encounter. Similarly, unchecked by responsibility, negative aspects of respect (ethical relativism) and rootedness (tribal superiority) may lead to a libertarian-like live-and-let-live (or die) approach in which one feels no obligations to the fate of Others. Such an approach results in a doubling down on communitarian tribalism in which the lines that excludes Others are especially well pronounced. One is free to live one’s life without concern for the well-being of the Other. Likewise, the Other is free to live as they see fit, so long as they do not impose on one’s own wellbeing. This is, however, an ahistorical approach that ignores decades, centuries, and often millennia of historical entanglements and their accompanying duties and obligations. It is an approach that supports building walls to keep the outsiders from intruding while encouraging the outsider to build walls in which they isolate themselves away. The third cosmopolitan component of responsibility, however, provides a corrective balance by acknowledging a responsibility to those outside our tribal borders as well as a responsibility to promote human

flourishing where we are best positioned to do so. Responsibility looks for opportunities where one may promote the flourishing of the Other regardless of tribal boundaries.

Table 2. Summarizing the Three Rs of Cosmopolitanism

Cosmopolitan Positive Aspects Potentially Negative Aspects Implications when this component Component is missing while the other two are present

Respect Recognizing the Ethical relativism When Respect is absent immutable dignity of all (but Responsibility & Rootedness persons as free rational ● A belief that all traditions, are present) beings. cultures, and societal practices are morally ● Unchecked missionary zeal Recognizing that social equivalent. ● Colonialism justice and moral human ● Dismisses the violence that ● Might is right mentality flourishing occurs within traditions, cultures, and other traditions, cultures, societal practices can exact and societies. on certain individuals.

Responsibility Recognizing one’s moral Paternalism When Responsibility is absent obligations to Others. (but Respect & Rootedness are ● A belief that one possesses present) Envisioning ends and an irrevocable right—and enacting means in order to perhaps a duty—to ● Live & let live mentality realize those obligations. intervene how and where ● Wistful idleness (feeling bad for one sees fit. the Other, but determining that ● Infantilizes and destroys its none of your business) the self-respect of otherwise autonomous people.

Rootedness Creating the conditions for Ideology When Rootedness is absent (but moral human flourishing Respect & Responsibility are within one’s own ● An inherent belief in the present) traditions, culture(s), and moral superiority of one’s society. own culture and lived ● The perpetual entertainment- experience. seeking tourist Ensuring that one’s own ● The profit-maximizing, traditions, culture(s), and location-seeking entrepreneur society enable and ● Life devoid of meaningful promote the moral attachments or appreciation of flourishing of Others. historical entanglements ● Appiah’s (2006) “icy impartiality”

Conclusion To summarize, I have presented a framework for exploring cosmopolitanism that rests on three components: respect, responsibility, and rootedness. Cosmopolitan notions of respect include non-evaluative-respect for the individual person and evaluative-respect for traditions, cultures, and societies. Cosmopolitan responsibility is the idea that an agent recognizes their moral obligation to others and purposefully acts (envisioning ends and enacting means) to meet those obligations. Cosmopolitan rootedness, meanwhile, is creating the conditions for justice and human flourishing within our own traditions, cultures(s), and society. Each of these components must be tempered with cosmopolitan cherished values such as social justice and human flourishing. Respect recognizes that social justice and moral flourishing can be promoted by traditions and cultures other than our own. Responsibility recognizes that we are obliged to take actions to promote social justice and human flourishing beyond our own tribal boundaries. Rootedness, meanwhile, promotes social justice and human flourishing within our own culture. These components by themselves, or when combined with a second component, can be problematic, leading to approaches of ethical relativism, paternalism, ideology, missionary zeal, live-and-let-live approaches, and / or icy impartiality. It is only when all three components are present that modern cosmopolitanism is realized.

CHAPTER V: A HISTORICAL / CRITICAL POLICY ANALYSIS OF PRESIDENT MCKINLEY’S BENEVOLENT ASSIMILATION PROCLAMATION

Using the complimentary methods of historical analysis and critical policy analysis (CPA), this chapter will further develop the three components of cosmopolitanism introduced in chapter four: respect, responsibility, and rootedness. The scope of this work is delimited by focusing on President McKinley’s 1898 benevolent assimilation proclamation, a policy document that governed the U.S. occupation of the Philippines and, by implication, its associated conflict-related education system. I advance my arguments through the selective presentation of historic events and their associated rhetoric as they relate to McKinley’s proclamation. Before I begin my analysis, however, allow me to orient the reader with a short history of the Philippine- American conflict.

An Introduction To And A Short History Of The Philippine-American Conflict Without Cuba, there would be no benevolent assimilation proclamation and no subsequent Philippine-American conflict. The American occupation of the Philippines was the unforeseen byproduct of an 1895 Cuban nationalist uprising against Spain. Two years into the Cuban revolution, the American battleship USS Maine, charged with protecting American interests in Cuba, sailed into Havana Harbor. When the Maine mysteriously exploded in the harbor on February 15th, 1898, many Americans held Spain accountable. A short and “splendid little war”13 ensued. The first and last military actions of this war, however, did not take place in Cuba, Spain, or the United States, but rather in the Philippines, some 9,000 miles away from the Maine’s sunken wreckage. On May 1st, the American navy initiated hostilities by destroying Spain’s Pacific fleet in Manila Bay, Philippines, and on August 13th, American troops took the final action of the war by seizing the Spanish colonial capital in the Philippines. On December 12th, the Treaty of Paris officially ended the war on terms favorable to the United States, transferring the majority of Spain’s overseas empire (including Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, and Guam) to America (Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Vogel, 1998; Wolff, 1960/2006).

13 This phrase is attributed to John Hay, U.S. Ambassador to the United Kingdom at the time of the war.

With Cuba being only 90 miles from Florida, Americans had long debated the United States’ relationship with the island. As early as 1809, President Thomas Jefferson argued for an American annexation of Cuba (Bradford, 1980). In the 1850s, pro-slavery Southern expansionists eyed Cuba as the next slave state, and in 1853 U.S. State Department officials advocated either purchasing or stealing the island from Spain (Bradford, 1980; Britannica, n.d.; Ostend Manifesto, 1854). The debate over America’s role in Cuba grew even more heated once independent-minded Cubans began an armed uprising against Spain in 1868 (Bradford, 1980). On-and-off again wars between Cuban nationalists and Spanish loyalists would ensue for the next three decades as would the debate over America’s role in the affair. For the better part of a century, though, successive U.S. administrations managed to somehow sidestep each Cuban crisis (Bradford, 1980). The explosion of the USS Maine, however, finally created a watershed moment that demanded America’s response. The Spanish-American War ensued. Meanwhile, more than 9,000 miles from Cuba, independence-minded Filipinos were engaged in their own struggle against Spain. Only two months prior to the USS Maine’s explosion, Spain and Filipino revolutionaries agreed to a pause in hostilities (the pact of Biak-na- Bato) (Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). With war between Spain and the United States looming, however, American diplomats petitioned Filipino leaders to renew their hostilities against Spain (Gates, 1973; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). In short order, after America destroyed the Spanish Fleet in the Philippines on May 1st, 1898, Filipino revolutionaries independently began seizing large segments of the archipelago. On August 13th, 1898, American troops, aided by Filipino revolutionaries, seized the Philippine capital city of Manila from Spain, effectively ending Spanish control of the archipelago (Gates, 1973; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). As America was ostensibly fighting for Cuban independence from Spain, Filipino revolutionaries justifiably assumed that the American cause of political freedom would extend to them as well. They would be severely disappointed. With the Treaty of Paris (signed December 12th, 1898), Spain formally ceded the Philippines (as well as Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Guam) to America (Francisco, 1973/1987). Nine days later, President McKinley issued his now infamous benevolent assimilation proclamation, declaring that, rather than liberating the Filipino people, the United States would assimilate the Philippine archipelago into the American system of governance (Angelo, 2012: Auchincloss, 2002, Cashman, 1993; Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Gould, 2019; Johnston, 1899; Merry,

2017; Miller, 1982; Smith, 1985; Wolff, 1960/2006). Technically McKinley’s proclamation was not intended for public consumption; it constituted a private order from the U.S. Commander-in- Chief to his military commander in the Philippines. In practical terms, however, the proclamation quickly became public and served as a public policy document that established wide-ranging expectations for an ensuing American occupation. Though the proclamation never addressed education directly, it effectively implied that the American military should expand its ongoing conflict-related education efforts across the newly acquired archipelago. Accordingly, independence-minded Filipinos turned their struggle for self-determination to their ally-turned-oppressor, the United States (Gates, 1973; Linn, 2000; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). On February 4th, 1899, the first shots were fired between American and Filipino forces. Years of brutal armed conflict ensued: far longer and deadlier than the Spanish- American War. “By the time American troops had quelled the nationalist resistance,” writes historian Emily Rosenberg (1982), “one of every five Filipinos was dead from war or disease” (p. 44). Historian Stanley Karnow (1989) refers to the conflict as “among the cruelest … in the annals of Western imperialism” (p. 12). Accompanying and complementing the American war effort against the Filipino people came an American imposed system of public education. After over three years of violent armed conflict, on July 4th, 1902, President Theodore Roosevelt declared an end to the Philippine-American War. Roosevelt’s declaration was a one- sided affair, however. Though major battles between U.S. and Filipino forces were largely over, the Philippines remained an occupied territory. Contemporaries suggested that if Filipinos no longer resisted, it was because their population was so devastated that there was simply no one left to resist (Wolff, 1960/2006). It was not until after World War II, where the Philippines again served as a site for brutal warfare—this time between America and Imperial Japan—that the Philippines would finally gain independence. On July 4th, 1946, after over 380 years of Spanish, American, and Japanese occupation, the Philippines finally achieved political sovereignty. The following timeline outlines major events related to the Philippine-American conflict and the United States’ accompanying public education program.

A Timeline of Selected Events

Pre-19th Century

1521 Ferdinand Magellan claims a group of inhabited Pacific islands for Spain. Magellan is killed fighting indigenous forces led by Chief Datu Lapulapu at the Battle of Mactan. Magellan’s few surviving forces withdraw to famously complete the first circumnavigation of the world in 1522. (Karnow, 1989; Pilapil, 1961; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1543 Ruy López de Villalobos returns to site of Magellan’s “discovery,” naming the islands Las Islas Filipinas (The Philippine Islands) in honor of Spain’s Prince Philip. Like Magellan’s crew, Villalobos is driven from the archipelago by hostile natives. (Karnow, 1989; Pilapil, 1961).

1565 Forty-four years after Magellan’s arrival, Miguel Lopez de Legazpi returns to the Philippines to establish a permanent Spanish settlement, initiating what would become 333 years of Spanish colonial rule (Karnow, 1989; Pilapil, 1961).

19th Century

1808 U.S. President Thomas Jefferson advocates for the American annexation of Cuba, revealing an American covetousness for the island that would eventually lead to war in the Philippines (Bradford 1980; Miller, 1982). For context, it is worth noting that only five years earlier an expansionist-minded Jefferson had overseen the Louisiana Purchase, effectively doubling the geographic size of the United States.

1854 Ostend Manifesto. U.S. State Department memorandum calls for the U.S. to take control of Cuba, either through purchase or seizure from Spain (Bradford, 1980; Britannica, n.d.; Ostend Manifesto, 1854). The document states that “Cuba is as necessary to the North American republic as any of its present members, and that it belongs naturally to that great family of states of which the Union is the providential nursery” (Ostend Manifesto, 1854). At the time, American proponents of slavery eyed Cuba for its promise as a politically important Southern state (Bradford, 1980; Britannica, n.d).

1868-1878 The Ten Years War. Cuban revolutionaries vie for independence from Spain. Cuba’s struggle for independence would inspire calls for independence in the Philippines and eventually result in American involvement (in 1898).

1873 The Virginius affair (a precursor to the 1898 USS Maine incident) pushes the United States and Spain to the brink of war. In the course of the Ten Years War, Spain captures the Virginius, a privately owned, U.S.-flagged ship that that had been covertly aiding Cuban insurrectionists for years (Bradford, 1980). The ship’s crew and passengers, including many American and British citizens / subjects, were found guilty of piracy and sentenced to death by

Cuba’s Spanish government. Fifty-five men were executed before the British navy intervened (Bradford, 1980; Rentfrow, 2014). Recognizing the inability of its own obsolete navy to respond to the crisis, in 1883 American lawmakers authorize the construction of a modernized navy (Bradford, 1980; Rentfrow, 2014), a decision that would prove crucial in deciding the outcome of the Spanish-American War and the American colonization of the Philippines.

1875 Mar. 3 The Page Act, America’s first restrictive federal immigration law, bans the entry of Chinese women (and effectively all women of East Asian ethnicity) to the United States. The act epitomizes American lawmaker’s earliest efforts to institutionalize racial bias against Asians in U.S. immigration law. (Nagae, 2012; Thomas, 2013)

1879-1890 The Little War. Cuba’s second uprising for independence from Spain.

1882 May 6 Building on the 1875 Page Act, the Chinese Exclusion Act denies U.S. citizenship to Chinese immigrants while codifying American subaltern racial attitudes toward people of Asian ethnicity. The Act further institutionalizes racist attitudes that many Americans would carry to the Philippines.

1892 May 5 The Geary Act extends and expands restrictions of the expiring Chinese Exclusion Act. In addition to barring immigration from China, Chinese immigrants and their native-born children would remain ineligible for American citizenship until 1943 (when America needed Chinese support during WWII). (Department of State, Repeal of the Chinese Exclusion Act, n.d.)

1893 Jan. 17 Hawai’ian government overthrown. Acting in conjunction with plantation owners, the U.S. Minister to the Hawai’ian Kingdom, with the support of U.S. Marines, overthrows the island chain’s indigenous sovereign government led by Queen Liliuokalani (Britannica, 2020; Kramer, 2006b; Sai, 2018). Petitioning for American annexation and ignoring U.S. President Grover Cleveland’s instructions that the Liliuokalani government be restored, Hawai’i’s provisional colonial government reorganizes as an independent republic. Hawai’i’s geographic location will later make it an indispensable strategic fueling station for American ships and troops headed to the Philippines. (Britannica, 2020; Sai, 2018)

1893 Mar. 4 Defeating incumbent Benjamin Harrison, Grover Cleveland begins his second, albeit non-consecutive, term as U.S. President. Cleveland’s second term is plagued by the financial panic of 1893, which initiated (at the time) the greatest economic depression in U.S. history. The depression results in extensive U.S. political realignments that would eventually help propel a protectionist-minded William McKinley to the White House (Graff, 2021; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987).

1895, Sep. 18 Atlanta Compromise Speech. Booker T. Washington advocates for America’s negro population to forgo social and political equality and instead focus on economic production (Perdue, 2010). Washington’s manual-industrial education model would, in due time, shape America’s approach to Filipino education (Coloma, 2004, 2009; Kramer, 2006b).

1895-1898 The Cuban War of Independence. Cuba’s third and final revolution against Spain. The war will culminate in American intervention—the 1898 Spanish- American War.

1896 May 18 Plessy v. Ferguson. Landmark U.S. Supreme Court ruling upholds racial segregation laws in America. As with the Chinese Exclusion Act, the decision codifies racialized attitudes of White supremacy that many Americans would carry to the Philippines.

1896 Aug 23 The Philippine insurrection (a.k.a. The Tagalog War) against Spain begins.

1896 Dec. 30 Jose Rizal executed. In the course of the Philippine insurrection, the popular Filipino physician and novelist Dr. Jose Rizal is executed by Spain for treason (Francia, 2014). An advocate for Filipino agency and peaceful political change, Rizal’s execution elevates him to martyr status for the cause of Filipino nationalism and independence (Francia, 2014).

1897 Mar. 4 William McKinley begins his first term as U.S. President. McKinley’s election is largely fueled by his predecessor’s inability to effectively counter the ongoing economic depression, which is now in its fourth year. (Graff, 2021; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987).

1897 Mar. 23 Emilio Aguinaldo is elected as President of the Filipino revolutionary government.

1897 Dec. 15 The Pact of Biak-na-Bato pauses the Philippine insurrection. Aguinaldo’s government receives 400,000 pesos from Spain and agrees to exile in Hong Kong with the promise of more money to follow (money that Aguinaldo never receives). In exile, Aguinaldo and his Hong Kong Junta plan the insurrection’s renewal. (Kramer, 2006b; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898 (The year of the Spanish-American War)

1898 Feb 15 USS Maine explodes. After three weeks of being anchored for a “friendly” peacekeeping visit in Havana Harbor, Cuba, the American battleship USS Maine explodes. In the subsequent weeks, a U.S. Naval Court of Inquiry determines that a mine was the source of the explosion. (Vogel, 1998)

1898, Apr. 24 Anticipating war with Spain, American diplomats approach the exiled leader of the Philippine insurrection, Emilio Aguinaldo, encouraging him to return to the

Philippines and renew his struggle for independence. (Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898, Apr. 25 The Spanish-American War begins. After diplomatic efforts fail, and with public sentiment flamed by the “yellow press,” President McKinley asks Congress to declare war against Spain. (Karnow, 1989; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898, May 1 The Battle of Manila Bay. A modernized U.S. Asiatic fleet, led by Commodore George Dewey, destroys Spain’s decrepit Pacific fleet in Manila Bay, Philippines, giving America control of the seas in the Pacific and effectively isolating Spanish colonial forces in the Philippines (Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006).

1898, May Caught off guard by Dewey’s unexpected victory, President McKinley orders for the "immediate organization of a military force to be dispatched to the Philippines" (Gates, 1973, p. 3). As American’s enthusiastically clamor to enlist, McKinley is loath to turn anyone away. Volunteer ranks quickly grow from a planned 60,000 to as many as 125,000 troops, “undermining any hopes for an orderly mobilization or a trained fighting force” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 93). America’s hastily assembled and largely volunteer force would begin arriving in the Philippines two months later. (Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898, May 19 Aguinaldo returns. Transported by the U.S. navy, Filipino nationalist leader Emilio Aguinaldo returns to the Philippines. Aguinaldo quickly reconstitutes Filipino revolutionary forces and manages to capture large sections of the Philippines from Spain before the arrival of most U.S. troops. "By the end of June, central Luzon [the largest of the Philippine islands and the home to the capital city of Manila] was in Filipino hands, and uprisings had begun on many of the islands to the south" (Gates, 1973, p. 16).

1898, Jun. 12 Aguinaldo’s government issues the Philippine Declaration of Independence, asserting the archipelago’s political freedom from Spain and effectively announcing the creation of Asia’s first modern republic (Wolff, 1960/2006). The declaration would be ignored by the United States and Spain, as well as all other governments.

1898 Jun 15 Concerned with the potential for U.S. overseas imperialism, the Anti-Imperialist League is founded in Boston, Massachusetts. Though the League is ultimately ineffective at creating political change, it would be a leading platform for American domestic opposition to the U.S. occupation of the Philippines. (Bailey, 1937; Bello, 1998; Davis, 1953; Dooley, 2009; Gibson, 1947; Harrington, 1935; Legaspi, 1968/1973; Schirmer, 1972; Vaughn, 2009).

1898, Jun 21 The U.S. Army’s Philippine invasion force (dubbed the Eighth Army Corps) is formed under the command of Major General Wesley Merritt.

1898, Jun. 30 Eighth Army Corps troops begin arriving in the Philippines. Troop transport ships carrying the Eighth Army would depart from San Francisco, stop in Honolulu for fuel and provisions, and then end the voyage in Cavite, Philippines (just south of the capital city of Manila). Eighth Army Corps forces will continue arriving in piecemeal fashion through early August. (Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898, Jul. 4 Hawai’ian annexation. Recognizing its vital strategic importance in transporting troops to the Philippines, U.S. Congress votes to annex the Hawai’ian islands. (Heraclides & Dialla, 2015; Miller, 1982; Stratton, 2016; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1898, Aug. 12 Armistice. After a little over three months of hostilities (mostly in Cuba), the U.S. and Spain agree to end armed conflict. The terms of peace are left to be determined later.

1898, Aug. 13 The Mock Battle of Manila. Unaware of the previous day’s armistice, U.S. and Spanish commanders in the Philippines stage a “mock” battle for control of the capital city of Manila. Per pre-arranged agreements, Spanish forces will surrender to the U.S. after a brief demonstration of resolve. Additionally, weary that control of Manila would bolster Filipino claims of sovereignty, both armies agree to keep Filipino revolutionary forces out of the city. (Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006)

Major General Merritt becomes the first U.S military governor of the Philippines, though the extent of his authority is limited to the city of Manila and its surrounding area.

Brigadier General Arthur MacArthur is charged with running the city of Manila.

Captain / Father William McKinnon, Chaplain for the First California Volunteers, is appointed as the first U.S. superintendent of schools in Manila (McDevitt, 1956). U.S. military strategy will eventually include the establishment of U.S. administered schools across the archipelago, and U.S. soldiers will serve as some of the education system’s first schoolteachers and administrators.

1898, Aug. 29 Major General Elwell Stephen Otis assumes duties as U.S. military governor of the Philippines. Otis’ predecessor, General Merritt, travels to Paris to participate in treaty negotiations between the U.S. and Spain.

1898, Dec. 12 Treaty of Paris formally ends the Spanish-American War. Per the terms of the treaty, Spain cedes control of Cuba, Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines to the U.S.

1898, Dec 21 President McKinley issues his benevolent assimilation proclamation directing that the United States’ military government in Manila be “extended … to the whole of the ceded territory.” The proclamation is ill received by Filipino revolutionaries expecting their political independence.

1899

1899, Feb. 4 The Philippine-American conflict begins when U.S. soldiers open fire on Filipino forces. (Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1899, Feb. 6. After fierce debate, and despite efforts of the Anti-Imperialist League, the U.S. Senate ratifies the Treaty of Paris (Hendrickson, 1967).

1899, Mar. 4 The First Philippine Commission (a.k.a. the Schurman Commission), headed by Cornell University President Jacob G. Schurman, arrives in Manila to assess the situation, make recommendations, and “ensure the Filipinos of our benevolent intentions” (Schurman, cited in Hendrickson, 1967, p. 406). In November the commission issues its preliminary report, stating that Filipinos were incapable of self-government and recommending, among other things, that the U.S. expand American style public education across the archipelago, with English as the primary language of instruction. (Coloma, 2009; Hendrickson, 1967; Wesling, 2011; Wolff, 1960/2006)

1900

1900, Mar. 16 The Second Philippine Commission (a.k.a. the Taft Commission). President McKinley appoints U.S. federal circuit judge William Howard Taft to head the Second Philippine Commission. Where the previous Schurman Commission was charged with making recommendations, the Taft Commission is charged with establishing civil control over the archipelago (Iyer & Maurer, 2009). Additionally, McKinley instructs the Taft Commission to "'regard as of first importance the extension of a system of primary education which shall be free to all and which shall tend to fit the people for the duties of citizenship and for the ordinary avocation of a civilized community” (Paulet, 2007, p. 184; Wesling, 2011, p. 51). The Taft commission will eventually form the core of a U.S. civil government in the Philippines. (Hendrickson, 1967; Iyer & Maurer, 2009; Paulet, 2007; Reuter, 1982)

1900, Mar 30 The Department of Public Instruction is created to govern U.S. control of education in the Philippines. Captain Albert Todd, a U.S. Army artillery officer, is named as the department’s first director.

1900, Mar. 23 Aguinaldo captured. Filipino President Emilio Aguinaldo is captured by U.S. forces.

1900, May 5 Major General Arthur MacArthur replaces Otis as U.S. military governor of the Philippines.

1900, Jun. 3 The Second Philippine Commission (the Taft Commission) arrives in Manila.

1900, Jul-Sep Boxer rebellion. Proving the strategic importance of the Philippines as a gateway to China, a portion of U.S. forces in the Philippines, including General Adna Chaffee, are redeployed to China to assist in suppressing a Chinese anti- imperialist uprising (Plante, 1999).

1900 Sep. 1 Legislative power in the Philippines is transferred from the U.S. military to Taft’s Philippine Commission (Hendrickson, 1967).

1901

1901 Jan 21 Act 74, The Education Act. The Philippine Commission passes Act 74 establishing a civilian led Board of Public Instruction. Among other things, Act 74 mandates English as the language of instruction and empowers the General-Superintendent to hire 1,000 American schoolteachers.

Fred Atkinson, a former American high school principal, is named General Superintendent of schools. Inspired by Booker T. Washington, Atkinson will promote a manual-industrial curriculum for the archipelago. (Angelo, 2012; Coloma, 2004; May, 1976; Roma-Sianturi, 2009; Wesling, 2011)

1901, Mar. 4 William McKinley’s begins his second term as U.S. President.

Having failed to defeat the Treaty of Paris or to end McKinley’s presidency, the Anti-Imperialist League loses much of its momentum. Though greatly diminished, it would remain active until after WWI. (Bailey, 1937; Bello, 1998; Davis, 1953; Dooley, 2009; Gibson, 1947; Harrington, 1935; Legaspi, 1968/1973; Vaughn, 2009).

1901, Jul 4 The U.S. Philippine Commission assumes civil control of the Philippines. William Howard Taft replaces General MacArthur to become the first U.S. civilian governor of the Philippines. Major General Adna Chaffee assumes duty as the commander of U.S. forces in the Philippines. Bernard Moses, (professor of history and political economy at the University of California, Berkeley) becomes the Secretary of Public Instruction (Hendrickson, 1967; May, 1976).

1901, Aug 21 Thomasites arrive. The United States Army Transport (USAT) Thomas arrives in Manila with 509 American school teachers and administrators. Though a total of 1,074 American educators would come to the Philippines in 1901 on a variety of ships, all would be commonly referred to as Thomasites. (Racelis & Ick, 2001)

1901, Sep. 14 McKinley assassinated. Eight days after an assassination attempt, President McKinley dies from the gunshot wound. U.S. Vice President Theodore Roosevelt becomes President.

1902-1916

1902, Jun. 5 Mission to the Vatican. Unable to reach an agreement with local Catholic leaders in the Philippines, Governor-General Taft is received by Pope Leo XIII at the Vatican. The meeting results in the sale of Catholic “friar” lands in the Philippines for $7.2 million. (Alvarez, 1992; Pilapil, 1961; Reuter, 1982)

1902, Jul. 1 U.S. Congress passes the Philippine Organic Act establishing the legal basis for government in the Philippines, including how the U.S. constitution would be selectively applied to the archipelago (Burnett, 2005).

1902, Jul. 4 Mission accomplished!?!? President Roosevelt declares an end to the Philippine-American War. Filipino resistance to American occupation would continue for years, however.

1902, Oct. Under intense scrutiny, both the Secretary of Public Instruction (Bernard Moses) and the General Superintendent of schools (Fred Atkinson) resign. James F. Smith becomes Philippine Commission Secretary of Public Education. (Reuter, 1982)

1902, Dec. Elmer Bryan becomes the second General Superintendent of Schools in the Philippines. With an epidemic of cholera and smallpox across the islands, serious health issues force Bryan’s resignation a few months into his term. (May, 1976)

1903, Aug 14 David Prescott Barrows assumes duty as the third General Superintendent of Schools in the Philippines. In contrast to his predecessors’ established manual- industrial curriculum, Barrows will promote an academic curriculum focused on expanding literacy and numeracy and creating “peasant proprietors” across the archipelago. Inspired by federal Native American schools in America, Barrows’ curriculum will continue to promote the Americanization, pacification, and social transformation of Filipinos. (Angelo, 2012; May, 1976, Paulet, 2007)

1904, Feb Vice-Governor Luke Edward Wright replaces Taft as U.S. Governor General. Taft, in turn, assumes duties as U.S. Secretary of War (1904-1908) for the Roosevelt administration.

1905, Mar. 4 Roosevelt elected. Having served as the U.S. President for much of McKinley’s second term, Theodore Roosevelt wins his own election bid and begins (effectively) his second term as U.S. President.

1905, Nov. Henry Clay Ide, formerly the Philippine Commission Secretary of Finance and Justice, becomes the third U.S. Governor-General of the Philippines.

1906, Sep James F. Smith, formerly the Philippine Commission Secretary of Public Instruction, becomes the fourth Governor-General of the Philippines. In direct contradiction of General Superintendent Barrows’ academic approach, Smith pledges to extend “practical education” across the Philippines (May, 1976).

W. Morgan Shuster becomes Secretary of Public Education. Secretary Schuster, along with Governor-General Smith, will defund and dismantle many of Superintendent Burrow’s educational initiatives. (May, 1976)

1909, Mar 4 President Taft. William Howard Taft succeeds Roosevelt as U.S. President.

1909 Fourth Superintendent of Schools. Advocating for a manual-industrial education, Frank Wright replaces Barrows to become the 4th General Superintendent of Schools in the Philippines. Serving until 1913, Wright would usher in “the triumph of industrial education” in the Philippines (May, 1976, p. 171).

1913 America’s succession of imperialist Presidents ends. Ending the political succession of U.S. Republican party imperialists / expansionists (McKinley, Roosevelt, and Taft), Democrat Woodrow Wilson is inaugurated as U.S. president. Theodore Roosevelt, unsatisfied with his successor’s performance, but unable to secure his party’s nomination, had run as a third-party “Bull Moose” candidate, splitting the Republican vote and effectively derailing Taft’s re-election bid.

1916 Jones Act. President Wilson and a Democratic Congress enact the Jones Act (a.k.a. the Philippine Autonomy Act). The act eliminates the Philippine Commission, transfers more local power to Filipino elites, and, for the first time, promises “eventual independence” to the Philippines (Iyer, & Maurer, 2009; Kramer, 2006b).

Later 20th Century

1941-1945 Japanese occupation. Ten hours after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Imperial Japanese forces land in the Philippines. Though Japanese possession is contested by the U.S. throughout the war, Japanese troops would remain in the Philippines until the end of World War II in 1945. During the war, U.S. forces in the Pacific are led by General Douglas MacArthur, son of the former U.S. military-governor of the Philippines.

1946, Jul. 4 Philippine independence. After over 380 year of colonial control by Spain, the United States, and Japan, the Republic of the Philippines formally achieves political independence outright.

1976 USS Maine redux. A U.S. Naval Board of Inquiry determines that the USS Maine was “sunk by an internal explosion, most likely a fire in a coal bunker that ignited a nearby store of ammunition” (Vogel, 1998). The determination is largely accepted as definitive by most historians (Vogel, 1998) thereby obviating the Spanish-American War’s key instigating event as well as America’s justification for its intervention in the Philippines.

1998 USS Maine re-redux. A study commissioned by National Geographic Magazine determines that “the explosion [of the USS Maine] could have been caused by either a mine or an accidental fire” (Vogel, 1998) reigniting what had largely been a settled debate about the event.

End Timeline

The themes of McKinley’s proclamation: Sovereignty, economy, beneficence.

Having presented a timeline related to America’s conflict-related education intervention in the Philippines, I now return to a critical event in that timeline: President William McKinley’s December 21st, 1898, benevolent assimilation proclamation. In this section, I apply Critical Policy Analysis (CPA) to examine the proclamation, its historical origins, and its effects on conflict-related education. I contextualize the proclamation as containing three broad themes: 1) sovereignty, 2) economy, and 3) beneficence. Allow me to explain each and indicate how they are being used. Sovereignty is the language that justifies U.S. control over the Philippines. This language largely targets an international audience, namely the colonial powers of Europe and Japan, which are rightly concerned with the U.S.'s newfound interest in global imperialism (and, to a lesser degree, perhaps targeted at a similarly concerned segment of the U.S. population). The language of sovereignty reinforces a narrative that Spain had legitimate supreme control of the Philippines but ceded that control to the U.S. I argue that this language is used to delegitimize the political agency of the Filipino people and, by extension, the recently established independent Filipino government. Sovereignty, as McKinley implies, is a topic reserved almost exclusively for North Atlantic nation-states. As U.S. authority in the Philippines stems exclusively from military conquest and subsequent treaty agreement, the language of sovereignty is rife with military and

geo-political terms: destruct, reduce, surrender, victory, authority, supremacy, cede, suspend, control, and sovereignty. The language of economy, meanwhile, publicly signals to U.S. and international investors that the Philippines, under new management, is open for business. Commerce will continue to flow through the ports of the Philippines, and private property rights will continue to be enforced. McKinley’s language of economy focuses on property rights, revenues, taxes and duties, and goods and wares. This language also emphasizes a law-and-order regime that ostensibly protects individuals and individual property rights even as, I will argue, it ultimately uses those rights to deny political agency and exploit a Filipino socio-economic underclass. Refined in the Philippines, McKinley’s American political heirs will continue to employ law- and-order themes, promising to protect an individual’s property, home, and religion, to this day. Finally, beneficence is the propaganda of ongoing U.S. colonial paternalism as altruism. The language of beneficence promotes the notion of an idealized and emulative-worthy United States doing good for the benefit of a subaltern Filipino people. As I will argue, however, McKinley’s language of beneficence is less about actually doing good than it is about providing a distracting rhetorical veneer (a political spectacle, if you will) of goodwill. This language includes terms like friends, cooperation, affection, justice, good, temperate, and free. The overall structure of the proclamation suggests it is perhaps an amalgamation of two departmental inputs from within McKinley’s administration. The first section, contained in sentences 1-7, emphasizes sovereignty. Conceivably, it consists of input from the Department of State as an effort to justify U.S. control over the Philippines to a world audience. The second section, contained in sentences 8-16, emphasizes economy. Its input was perhaps led by the Department of War, which was tasked with (1) establishing investment-friendly, law-and-order conditions while (2) simultaneously footing the overall bill for this excursion—even as it cost- consciously reminded its military commander to “keep the receipts” (sentence 12). Regardless of the themes that are emphasized, however, each section follows a similar pattern: first, they establish the sovereignty of the United States government; next, that sovereignty gives way to economic themes; and finally, each section concludes with the language of beneficence. By placing the theme of beneficence at the end of each section, beneficence itself appears to be somewhat of an afterthought, as if each materialistic demand required a moral facade.

Whatever speculation I have on the document's origins, my intent is not to distance President McKinley from the proclamation in any way. Biographer and historian Nick Kapur (2011) argues that McKinley kept tight control over everything that left the White House and closely supervised the communique of his cabinet secretaries. A prolific speechmaker, McKinley personally wrote his own speeches, and he read, approved, and “often extensively amended” (Kapur, 2011, p. 24) every important document that his cabinet produced. McKinley worked very closely with his cabinet and kept a close eye on what his associates said, such that, so far as can be discerned, no important official document went out, either domestically or internationally, that did not have his entire approval, and thus can be accepted almost as if he wrote it. (Kapur, 2011, p. 24)

As the benevolent assimilation proclamation closes with McKinley’s personal signature block, Kapur leaves little doubt that the document reflected McKinley’s personal inputs and policy views.

Analysis, coding, and graphic representation.

In the three tables that follow, I provide an analysis of the benevolent assimilation proclamation as follows: 1) the proclamation in its entirety, with each sentence numbered (1-16) and color- coded by theme, 2) a list of how often each theme appears by sentence number,14 and 3) a graphic representation, by percentage, of how each theme is represented in each sentence. As these tables illustrate, the initial theme of the document is sovereignty. By sentence four, however, the economic nature of American policy begins to emerge; and by sentence five, the language of beneficence surfaces. The second section begins at sentence 8 by again emphasizing

14 The number of times a theme is represented is subjective. Does, for instance, a sequence of three descriptors (e.g., “control, disposition, and government”) represent one manifestation of sovereignty or three? For the purposes of this analysis, I consider each descriptor as a unique instance (i.e., the previous example counts as three manifestations). Conversely, in cases where two words represent one general idea (e.g., “goods and wares” representing economy), I consider this one manifestation. While this process is open to interpretation, the intent is not to get a precise count of theme appearances, but rather to get an overall feel for the themes and how those themes flow through the proclamation.

sovereignty before turning purely economic in nature by sentence 11. Finally, the moral language of beneficence re-emerges in the final two sentences to justify this economic activity. Though my study makes distinctions between the three themes of sovereignty, economy, and beneficence, for the ensuing discussion it is worth appreciating that these concepts are mutually reinforcing and often impossible to fully isolate. As I explore each theme independently, the other two themes inevitably and necessarily intrude.

Table 3. President McKinley's Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (with sentence numbering and color coding)

Key: Color coded textual analysis Green: Sovereignty. A justification of American political power (e.g., military actions like destruct, reduce, surrender–also geo- political terms like cession, suspension, sovereignty, treaty) Yellow: Economy. Promoting and protecting financial interests (e.g., private property, taxes, revenue, commerce, ability to enforce laws, repress internal opposition) Blue: Benevolence. Promoting an idealistic justification for America’s actions (e.g.. justice, friend, protect, good)

Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation* by United States President William McKinley

Executive Mansion, Washington December 21, 1898

1The destruction of the Spanish fleet in the harbor of Manila by the United States naval squadron commanded by Rear-Admiral Dewey, followed by the reduction of the city and the surrender of the Spanish forces, practically effected the conquest of the Philippine Islands and the suspension of the Spanish sovereignty therein. 2With the signature of the treaty of peace between the United States and Spain by their respective plenipotentiaries at Paris on the 10th instant, and as a result of the victories of American arms, the future control, disposition, and government of the Philippine Islands are ceded to the United States. 3In the fulfillment of the rights of sovereignty thus acquired and the responsible obligations of government thus assumed, the actual occupation and administration of the entire group of the Philippine Islands becomes immediately necessary, and the military government heretofore maintained by the United States in the city, harbor, and bay of Manila is to be extended with all possible dispatch to the whole of the ceded territory.

4In performing this duty the military commander of the United States is enjoined to make known to the inhabitants of the Philippine Islands that in succeeding to the sovereignty of Spain, in severing the former political relations, and in establishing a new political power, the authority of the United States is to be exerted for the securing of the persons and property of the people of the islands and for the confirmation of all their private rights and relations. 5It will be the duty of the commander of the forces of occupation to announce and proclaim in the most public manner that we come, not as invaders or conquerors, but as friends, to protect the natives in their homes, in their employments, and in their personal and religious rights.

6All persons who, either by active aid or by honest submission, co-operate with the Government of the United States to give effect to these beneficent purposes will receive the reward of its support and protection. 7All others will be brought within the lawful rule we have assumed, with firmness if need be, but without severity, so far as possible. 8Within the absolute domain of military authority, which necessarily is and must remain supreme in the ceded territory until the legislation of the United States shall otherwise provide, the municipal laws of the territory in respect to private rights and property and the repression of crime are to be considered as continuing in force, and to be administered by the ordinary tribunals, so far as practicable. 9The operations of civil and municipal government are to be performed by such officers as may accept the supremacy of the United States by taking the oath of allegiance, or by officers chosen, as far as practicable, from the inhabitants of the islands. 10While the control of all the public property and the revenues of the state passes with the cession, and while the use and management of all public means of transportation are necessarily reserved to the authority of the United States, private property, whether belonging to individuals or corporations, is to be respected except for cause duly established. 11The taxes and duties heretofore payable by the inhabitants to the late government become payable to the authorities of the United States unless it be seen fit to substitute for them other reasonable rates or modes of contribution to the expenses of government, whether general or local. 12If private property be taken for military use, it shall be paid for when possible in cash, at a fair valuation, and when payment in cash is not practicable, receipts are to be given.

13All ports and places in the Philippine Islands in the actual possession of the land and naval forces of the United States will be opened to the commerce of all friendly nations. 14All goods and wares not prohibited for military reasons by due announcement of the military authority will be admitted upon payment of such duties and other charges as shall be in force at the time of their importation.

15Finally, it should be the earnest wish and paramount aim of the military administration to win the confidence, respect, and affection of the inhabitants of the Philippines by assuring them in every possible way that full measure of individual rights and liberties which is the heritage of free peoples, and by proving to them that the mission of the United States is one of benevolent assimilation substituting the mild sway of justice and right for arbitrary rule.

16In the fulfillment of this high mission, supporting the temperate administration of affairs for the greatest good of the governed, there must be sedulously maintained the strong arm of authority, to repress disturbance and to overcome all obstacles to the bestowal of the blessings of good and stable government upon the people of the Philippine Islands under the free flag of the United States.

WILLIAM McKINLEY.

Note: Later discussions of McKinley’s Benevolent Assimilation proclamation will refer to specific sentence numbers.

Table 4. President William McKinley’s Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (listing instances of each theme by sentence number)

Sentence Number Instances using language of…

Sovereignty Economy Beneficence

1 5 - - 2 6 - - 3 5 - - 4 4 2 - 5 - 4 1 6 - 1 2 7 1 1 1 8 3 4 - 9 1 - - 10 3 4 - 11 - 3 - 12 - 4 - 13 1 2 - 14 1 3 - 15 - 1 6 16 - 3 5 Note: The number of times a theme (sovereignty, economy, or beneficence) occurs is counted in this table by sentence number.

Figure 1: President William McKinley’s Benevolent Assimilation Proclamation (listing instances of each theme by sentence number)

Note: The percentage of each sentence devoted to a particular theme (sovereignty, economy, or beneficence) is depicted graphically by sentence number. Note how the proclamation can be divided into two sections (divided at sentence 8). Each of the two sections begins with a strong emphasis on sovereignty, then turns to economy, and concludes with beneficence.

Sovereignty To explore the language of sovereignty, I choose to examine three key historical events that precede and contextualize McKinley’s proclamation. The first is the political spectacle associated with Commodore George Dewey and his naval victory in the Philippines at Manila Bay on May 1st, 1898. This spectacle asserts an American super-agency while concurrently working to deny forms of agency to the Filipino people. The second event is the mock Battle of Manila on August 13th, 1898.15 The mock battle serves as a significant milestone for reinforcing American claims of sovereignty while, again, repressing Filipino agency. The final event is the ongoing contest between Western colonialism and Filipino self-determination reified in the Spanish and American occupations: the Spanish from 1565 until 1898 and the American from 1898 until 1946. As Spain and America contested for political control of the Philippines in 1898, Filipino political self-determination arguably culminated with the June 12th, 1988, Declaration of Philippine Independence, a document that, like Filipino agency writ large, McKinley’s proclamation does its best to discredit and ignore.

The political spectacle of George Dewey, American super-agent.

McKinley begins his proclamation by emphasizing American naval forces and their commander, Admiral Dewey, by name (sentence 1). This approach is predicated on the naval events that punctuate the short span of the Spanish-American War. The initial punctuation is the mysterious sinking of the USS Maine in Havana Harbor, an American naval humiliation in Cuba that instigated calls for war against Spain. The subsequent punctuation is Dewey’s overwhelming American naval victory in the Philippines, an event that buoyed American nationalism, pride, and resolve. In the lead up to war Americans had hotly debated support for Cuban independence from Spain, but it was the February 15th explosion of the Maine that ultimately solidified America’s position. The American congress declared war on Tuesday (April 25th) and by Sunday (May 1st) the American Asiatic Squadron, led by Commodore Dewey, had destroyed Spain’s Pacific fleet 9,000 miles from the USS Maine’s wreckage in Cuba. The Maine was avenged, and McKinley was ecstatic.

15 Note: The Battle of Manila Bay and the “mock” Battle of Manila are distinct and separate events that took place in 1898. The Battle of Manila Bay was a May 1st naval battle for control of access to the Philippines. The Battle of Manila was an August 13th land battle for control of the capital city of Manila.

The unexpected and overwhelming naval victory in Manila Bay immediately made George Dewey a revered national hero. At the time of McKinley’s proclamation, Dewey held the American imagination like no other. His image adorned everything from newspapers, magazines, and calendars, to soap advertisements, and orange crates. American lakes, beaches, streets, cities, and counties were named in Dewey's honor. Dewey’s verbal order at the Battle of Manila Bay, "you may fire when you are ready, Gridley," remains one of America’s most iconic military phrases (even if few can attribute its origins). Congress was so taken that it would ultimately promote Dewey to the penultimate six-star rank of Admiral of the Navy; a position to which no other individual has ever achieved, before or since (Angelo, 2012; Gates, 1973; Johnston, 1899; Karnow, 1989; Kramer, 2006b; Mallett, 1899; Miller, 1982; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987; Wolff, 1960/2006). It is no coincidence then that McKinley rhetorically ties his proclamation to the most popular public figure in America at the time. As a rising tide lifts all ships, so too does personal, political, and rhetorical association with the rising Dewey. In coupling his proclamation with the competent authority, legitimacy, and popularity of America’s newly found favorite son, McKinley’s proclamation inherits an authority, legitimacy, and popularity of its own. To reject McKinley’s proclamation would be a symbolic rejection of an American hero. It would be rejecting the best of America, and in doing so, rejecting American itself. While riding the wake of Dewey’s immense popularity, McKinley’s proclamation simultaneously works to create stark divisions of agency between America, Spain, and the Philippines. Rhetorically, Spain is given agency, though a rather poor one: It has a fleet which can be destroyed, forces which can be reduced, and possesses a sovereignty which can be suspended (sentence 1). America, though, is given super-agency. It is able to destroy fleets, reduce forces, and accept sovereignty (sentence 1). Moreover, America consists of a people embodied in the brave, heroic, and conquering figure of Admiral Dewey (sentence 1). As Dewey’s super-agency derives from military prowess, McKinley’s proclamation tacitly acknowledges that any and all U.S. legitimacy has been gained solely through military victory, namely the reduction of Spanish fleet and Spanish forces. The proclamation’s summary of Spain’s multiple military defeats at American hands, at sea and on land, serve to re-emphasize this point. And should one summary of American’s military success fail to suffice, McKinley gives a nod to his nation’s victories, in some form or another, in almost every one of his

proclamation’s sentences (sentences 1-4, 6-10, 13-14). As if racked with insecurity, sensing the inherent injustice of it all, and perhaps hoping that if a claim is repeated often enough it will become true, McKinley’s proclamation underscores American authority with a continuously running might-makes-right commentary. By stark contrast to both a reduced Spain and a rising America, however, the Philippines, as described by McKinley, is not even a people, and it therefore has no agency. Rather it is a place, a possession, a ceded object initially referred to in McKinley’s proclamation simply as “the Philippine Islands” (sentences 1, 2, & 3). Within McKinley’s proclamation is an inconspicuous but undeniable suppression of Filipino voice, agency, and self-determination. As political subjects, the people of the Philippines are effectively rendered invisible (Knight Abowitz, 2020, personal communication). Even when McKinley’s proclamation finally acknowledges that the Philippines does contain “inhabitants” (sentences 4, 9, 11, 15) the people of the Philippines are linguistically demoted to exist within prepositional phrases. As a population, “the natives” (sentence 5) or the “people of the …. islands” (sentences 4 & 16) are largely modifiers to the “the authority” of the United States (sentence 3, 8, 10, 14, 16). McKinley creates a Filipino identity that is passive and subaltern; a people for whom the U.S. will secure their persons and property as well as confirm their rights and relations (sentence 4). The people of the islands not only need to take no action in these arenas, but McKinley’s proclamation also affords them no agency to do so.

The mock battle of Manila and Filipino subalternity.

The second event for exploring the theme of sovereignty is the August 13th, 1898, “mock” Battle of Manila. This battle provides a telling example of just how far both America and Spain would go to deny the agency of Filipinos and to reinforce the authority of Western imperialism. In 1898, the telegraph provided the fastest means of trans-oceanic communication. When the Spanish colonial governor refused to allow Commodore Dewey the use of Manila’s telegraph to contact Washington, Dewey severed the line feeding the Philippine’s capital city. Dewey’s action made British controlled Hong Kong, 700 miles from Manila, the region’s nearest telegraph station (Raines, 1999). In an age before flight or radio communication and without an available telegraph cable, ships provided the fastest means of communication between Manila

and the rest of the world. This meant that for Washington or Madrid to communicate with their representatives in the Philippines, messages would arrive by telegraph in Hong Kong and then be ferried by ship to Manila, an information delay of two days at best. As a result of this delay, Spanish and American forces went to battle on August 13th unaware that their countries had just recognized an armistice the day prior. This battle, which lasted little more than a few hours, and which the previous day’s armistice arguably negated, would prove crucial for establishing America's later claim of sovereignty over the Philippines. Though its Pacific fleet was destroyed, Spain’s army still held the country as well as the strategically important city of Manila. In an uneasy alliance leading up to the August 13th battle, American and Filipino forces surrounded the capital city hoping to force a Spanish surrender. What Filipino forces did not know, however, was that prior to any fighting, U.S. and Spanish commanders had agreed that the battle would be a staged one, a “mock” battle so to speak (Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). This mock battle would be a demonstration of resolve just large enough that the Spanish commander could surrender with his dignity (and rank) intact; his predecessor, after all, had been fired only weeks prior for even considering a surrender to Filipino forces.16 Perhaps even more importantly for Spanish Manila, the mock battle allowed Spain to surrender the city to the Americans alone while keeping Filipino forces out. Spanish and American interests intersected in this respect, as the mock battle also allowed U.S. forces to take sole custody of the capital city while denying the city to the Filipino military. Why such concern over a Filipino military presence in Manila? In the months immediately prior to the Spanish-American War, Spain had concluded a two-year war with Filipino nationalists. Inspired by the Cuban revolution of 1895, the Spanish-Philippine War (a.k.a. the Philippine Revolution, a.k.a. the Tagalog War) set a historic precedent as the first revolution in Asia against a Western power (Francia, 2014). Arguably Spain’s struggle in the Philippines was not solely for its own micro / national interests but for the macro / entirety of the world-wide colonial enterprise that it had led for nearly 400 years. The Tagalog War ended with Spain’s colonial territory intact and the overall imperial world order preserved. In the truce

16 Even so, Fermín Jáudenes would be fired as Governor-General as soon as Spain gained knowledge of the mock battle. Jáudenes did, however, retain his rank and his position as commander of the Spanish Army in Manila (Karnow, 1989; Wolff, 1960/2006).

agreement (i.e., the pact of Biak-na-Bato) Spain agreed to enact several political reforms and the Filipino revolutionary leaders agreed to alms, amnesty, and exile (Kramer, 2006b; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987; Wolff, 1960/2006). The Filipino revolutionary leader Emilio Aguinaldo, however, considered this exile only a pause in the revolution as he and his compatriots contemplated their return (Kramer, 2006b; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987; Wolff, 1960/2006). That opportunity came with America’s unexpected military intervention in what had previously been limited to a Filipino / Spanish affair. American diplomats encouraged Aguinaldo’s repatriation, assuming he would rekindle an indigenous armed resistance against Spain that would also advance the American cause (Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). True to expectations, once the U.S. navy carried Aguinaldo home, the revolutionary forces of the Tagalog Wars rapidly began to reconstitute. Filipino military forces, many armed by Spain to fight Americans, defected to serve their returned leader and the renewed cause of Filipino independence, this time with American backing, or so they hoped. Stepping ashore on May 19th, by the end of the month Aguinaldo had cleared Spanish forces from the province of Cavite (immediately south of Manila) and turned his sites to the capital city itself (Francisco, 1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). And so, as both American soldiers and rejuvenated Filipino nationalists surrounded Manila in 1898, it was the potentially brutal repercussion of a restored and reinspired Filipino revolutionary force that the Spanish colonists feared most. The Americans, likewise though, had no desire for a Filipino military presence in Manila either. Such a presence would bolster the claims of legitimacy by Aguinaldo’s Filipino government while concurrently serving to undermine American imperial claims to sovereignty over the archipelago. So, while Spain and America were at war, even in the midst of battle these enemies were united on one front: keeping the subaltern Filipinos out of the capital city. I’ve repeatedly used the term subaltern as it captures an overall Western attitude toward the Filipino people at the turn of the twentieth century. Unquestionably, a repressive denial of agency had long been a theme of Filipino encounters with the West. Even the name of the place, the Philippines, denies a degree of worth and agency for its people. It is the European name bestowed upon the archipelago by 16th century Spanish sailors in honor of Phillip II, heir to the Spanish throne (Karnow, 1989; Pilapil, 1961). McKinley reemphasizes this Filipino lack of agency in his proclamation by often referring to the Philippines, not as a people, but, as a

geographic landmass: the Philippine islands (sentences 1, 2, & 13) and the group of the Philippine Islands (sentence 3). Additionally, the key nodes of the Philippines, the harbor of Manila (sentence 1) and the bay of Manila (sentence 3), are little more than geographic points of contestation for the sovereign agents of Spain and America. As it has been for centuries, and as McKinley’s proclamation reinforces, the fate of the Filipino people will be determined by their Western masters. As if to further reinforce Western agency, McKinley’s proclamation pointedly notes that the ultimate fate of the Philippines has been decided in Paris (sentence 2), six thousand miles from Manila, and with no representation by the Filipino people (though President Aguinaldo would send an ill-received and largely ignored emissary) (Karnow, 1989; Wolff, 1960/2006). The result of U.S. military victory, the sole source for America’s legitimacy, is complete control of what McKinley rhetorically frames as a passive object, a ceded territory (sentences 2, 3, & 8), a geographic grouping of islands (sentences 2, 3, & 4) “discovered” by Spain. By sentence five of the proclamation, even Spain has vanished from the document entirely, leaving the United States as the sole actor in the Philippines and retaining all agency for America.

Filipino agency and the Philippine Declaration of Independence.

It wasn’t as if Filipino nationals were being secretive about their inherent desire for agency, self-determination, and political independence. If the previous Philippine Insurrection was not indication enough, nationalist-minded leaders unambiguously announced their ambitions a month prior to the mock Battle of Manilla in the June 12th, 1898, Declaration of Philippine Independence (Kramer, 2006b; Miller, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). I visit this declaration in some detail as it represents a significant political and rhetorical act of agency by the Filipino people, and also because McKinley’s proclamation, in many ways, represents America's rebuke and dismissal of the declaration. Under their repatriated nationalist-minded leader, a newly constituted Filipino government declared its independence. This declaration was historically significant as it effectively announced the creation of Asia’s first modern republic (Wolff, 1960/2006). With a style similar to the American Declaration of Independence, Filipino leaders listed their numerous grievances against a European master, in this case, the Catholic church and the Spanish government—it was often difficult to distinguish between the two institutions in the Philippines

at the time (Alvarez, 1992; Cano, 2013; Reuter, 1982). In sharp contrast to the American Declaration of Independence, however, the Filipinos made an additional and significantly more fundamental claim to independence by challenging the overall legitimacy of Western colonization from its 16th century origins—an argument that the signers of America’s declaration of independence, no doubt, would have found impossible to endorse. The declaration opens by outlining the manifold injustices to which Filipinos have been subjected throughout the years at the hands of Spain and the Catholic church: ● … arbitrary arrests and abuses …. ● ...deaths… ● … shootings… under the [false] pretext that they [Filipino prisoners] attempted to escape ... ● … unjust deportations of illustrious Filipinos … [in the interest of] keeping them [the Filipino people] in ignorance ● … [a deportation processes] more execrable than those of the Inquisition which every civilized nation repudiates as a trial without hearing… ● … the unjust execution of [Dr. Jose] Rizal17 and others... ● … [the Catholic friars’] hydropical [i.e., insatiable] thirst for vengeance against and extermination of all those who oppose their Machiavellian ends ● … trampling upon the Penal Code of these islands… ● … persons arrested… without any form nor semblance of trial and without any spiritual aid of our sacred Religion. ● [The unjust hanging of] Doctor Don Jose Burgos, Don Mariano Gomez, and Don Jacinto Zamora...18 ● [The friars’ failure to cede parishes as directed by] the decree-sentence issued by the Council of State… (Declaration of Philippine Independence, 1898)

Part geo-political and part propaganda, the Declaration of Philippine Independence (1898) also serves as an important educational tract that explains and justifies the Filipino insurrection against Spain. It asserts that the earlier revolution of 1896-1897 was conducted “in order to regain the independence and sovereignty of which the people had been deprived by Spain [since the 16th century arrival of] Ferdinand Magellan…” The declaration then provides a narrative of deceit and “evil designs” that Magellan used to colonize the archipelago. “With these historical precedents and because in international law ... to legalize the vicious acquisition

17 Executed by Spain 1896, Jose Rizal became revered as the martyr of the Filipino nationalist movement. 18 In 1872, the Catholic priests Jose Burgos, Mariano Gomez, and Jacinto Zamora were executed by Spanish friars for their part in promoting Filipino nationalism, challenging friar power, and championing the Filipinization of the clergy (Francia, 2014).

of private property is not recognized, the legitimacy of such revolution can not be put in doubt…” (Declaration of Philippine Independence, 1898). Additionally, the declaration explains that although the revolution was momentarily “calmed” by the pact of Biak-na-Bato (1897), the “non-fulfillment of … terms” by Spain and the destruction of the Spanish fleet by the Americans justified Aguinaldo’s return “in order to initiate a new revolution.” Under these new conditions, the declaration asserts that the restored revolutionary movement is “spreading like wildfire” and besieged Spanish forces are falling throughout the archipelago “so that the independence of our country and the revindication of our sovereignty is assured.” As the declaration explains, Filipinos, through their own agency, are finally within reach of determining their own political future. Arguably, the Declaration of Philippine Independence’s most important element is promoting the idea that agency and political self-determination for Filipinos is achievable. The declaration actively challenges the long denial of this dignity by the West: ...we do hereby proclaim and declare solemnly in the name and by authority of the people of these Philippine Islands, that they are and have the right to be free and independent; that they have ceased to have any allegiance to the Crown of Spain; that all political ties between them are and should be completely severed and annulled; and that, like other free and independent States, they enjoy the full power to make War and Peace, conclude commercial treaties, enter into alliances, regulate commerce, and do all other acts and things which an Independent State has a right to do... (Declaration of Philippine Independence, 1898, paras. 6 & 7, emphasis mine)

The timing of the Declaration of Philippine Independence is noteworthy too as it precedes McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation by a full six-months. Americans were undoubtedly aware of the declaration; an American military officer had even signed it as a witness (Kramer, 2006b; Declaration of Philippine Independence, 1898). Nevertheless, Commodore Dewey and other American military leaders were explicitly instructed to not recognize Filipino independence and not to recognize Aguinaldo as the leader of the Philippines (Miller, 1982; Kramer, 2006b). Americans slighted Aguinaldo by addressing him as General but never as President (Gates, 1973). McKinley may have tolerated Filipinos as military allies of convenience against Spain, but, as his proclamation obliquely signals, he certainly didn’t consider these subaltern people to be his political or moral equals. In the end, neither the U.S. nor Spain (nor any other government for that matter) ever acknowledged the Declaration of Philippine Independence. To do so would have been to

concede agency, self-advocacy, and a justification for resistance to the Filipino people. Moreover, if, as the Filipinos espoused, over 300 years of Spanish territorial colonization were delegitimized, it would also mean delegitimizing U.S. claims on Cuba, the Philippines, Guam, and Puerto Rico as legitimate spoils of the Spanish-American War (to say nothing of United States’ claims on the lands of the indigenous people of North America). By questioning the very validity of colonization in the Philippines, the Declaration of Philippine Independence cast an uncomfortable critical eye on all forms of colonization by all nations. As America’s new territorial claims were dependent on the legitimacy of prior European colonization, the wholesale dismissal of global colonial norms was undoubtedly unacceptable to McKinley as well. For context it is worth acknowledging that at the end of the 19th century, imperial colonialism was an undertaking that largely defined Western European and Japanese nation-state endeavors. At the time, “a half-dozen imperialist powers owned or otherwise operated nearly all the globe’s profitable areas” (LaFeber, 1980, p. xi). Ninety percent of Africa, ninety-eight percent of the Pacific, and over fifty-six percent of Asia were under the colonial control of Western Europe or Japan (or the U.S. after the Spanish-American War) (MacQueen, 2007). The entirety of the Americas were either under colonial control or the control of now independent colonies. For the dominant world powers, the wholesale questioning and disposal of colonialism proposed by the Declaration of Philippine Independence was simply untenable. An official response, even a rebuke, to the declaration by McKinley, would have provided a degree of weight, credibility, and legitimacy to indigenous agency (in general) and to Aguinaldo’s Filipino government (specifically). As such, McKinley’s proclamation is a response that furthers the West’s imperialistic approach by implying that neither Filipino agency nor the Declaration of Philippine Independence had ever existed or were even worth acknowledging. Somewhat oxymoronically then, in his proclamation McKinley is both ignoring and challenging Filipino claims of agency. McKinley’s proclamation intentionally fails to acknowledge any rival to U.S. sovereign authority at any level. At the same time, however, it directs the U.S. military to clear up any confusion Filipinos may have as to who is now in charge. The American occupying forces are to ensure that the Filipino people know that it is the United States, and not the Filipino people (and certainly not Aguinaldo’s upstart government), who have claimed the rightful and proper authority over the Philippines that was once Spain’s (sentence 4). American forces are to ensure that Filipinos know that it is the U.S. government

(and not the illegitimate Filipino government) that has severed former political relations with Spain (sentence 4). And finally, U.S. troops are to ensure that Filipinos know that it is the U.S. (and not Aguinaldo’s government) that has established itself as the new political power in the Philippines (sentence 4). Previous efforts to exert Filipino agency, such as the Philippine Insurrection against Spain and the Declaration of Philippine Independence, count for nothing.

A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s sovereignty.

I conclude this section on sovereignty by revisiting the three components of modern cosmopolitanism: respect, responsibility, and rootedness (chapter four). McKinley’s proclamation presents sovereignty in such a way that it denies the cosmopolitan component of respect while evoking the negative aspects of responsibility and rootedness. Regarding respect, McKinley’s proclamation negates the immutable dignity of the Filipino people as free rational beings capable of agency and / or political self-determination. It does this by emphasizing American super-agency incarnated in Commodore Dewey while simultaneously rendering the Filipino people largely invisible. It also accomplishes this by ignoring Filipino calls to delegitimize the colonial world order and recognize Filipino political independence. Negative aspects of responsibility, meanwhile, come to manifest as American paternalism, infantilizing an otherwise autonomous people as the subaltern Other in need of American political tutelage and thus, American occupation. As for rootedness, McKinley roots American sovereignty in military conquest, deception (acting in concert with America's wartime enemy to subvert a wartime ally), and in associating the “rights of sovereignty” exclusively with American military acquisition (sentence 2). McKinley’s rootedness presents itself as American ideology, reinforcing an American superiority that, in turn, justifies all forms of American political, economic, and educational interference. Realizing paternalism and ideology while lacking respect, the result is an American might-makes-right mentality. The proclamation’s suppression of Filipino agency manifests in an American military occupation, a colonial government, and a schooling system that will educate (or arguably mis-educate) Filipinos as to the superiority of American sovereignty while endlessly impressing Filipino shortcomings and subalternity. The colonialism and the unchecked missionary zeal of Spain are simply to be exchanged for an American version of the same.

Economy I now turn to the second broad element shaping McKinley’s proclamation, economy, approaching this theme from two different angles. First, I examine affairs prior to the McKinley’s proclamation and look at the individuals and events that conspired to shape the proclamation’s economically charged language. Through this first approach I argue that, despite claims of beneficence, economic exploitation was always a primary motivation behind American actions in the Philippines. Second, I examine the effect that McKinley’s proclamation would have after it is released. Leveraging James Tully’s (2014) scholarship on Western colonialism, I argue that the proclamation’s focus on economy creates an overall environment that effectively corrupted meaningful economic and social justice reforms and undermined real educatory actualization.

Economy (Part 1): William McKinley, from protectionist to jingoist.

President William McKinley himself provides an interesting case study in how economic interests may come to overwhelm an individual. Biographers largely portray McKinley as a likable, devoted, and competent administrator, though not a man of particular vision (Cashman, 1993; Gates, 1973; Gould, 2019; Kapur, 2011; Merry, 2017; Miller, 1982; Phillips, 2003). After the Civil War, Ohio's Republican party drew heavily from the state’s Volunteer ranks and this included one Major William McKinley (Merry, 2016). As a young Congressional Representative, McKinley made a name for himself promoting America-first protectionist tariffs that would insulate emerging American industries from international competition. Elected chairman of the House Committee on Ways and Means, “McKinley set about crafting the most comprehensive tariff bill the country had ever seen” (Merry, 2016, p. 32). He ... sought to raise tariff rates on ... items to preclude any importation of them at all, including woolens, higher-grade cottons, cotton knits, linens, stockings, earthen and china ware, and all iron, steel and metal products. McKinley placed duties for the first time on wheat and other agricultural products to address robust global increases in agricultural production, much of it with cheap labor. (Merry, 2016, p. 32)

The 1890 “McKinley Tariff” law, however, was a political disaster. In the ensuing midterm elections, McKinley lost his seat along with ninety-two other Republicans (Merry, 2016; Party divisions, n.d.). Still, McKinley was undeterred. At the time, the journalist Ida Tarbell ridiculed McKinley for his naïve sincerity:

[McKinley] had an advantage, [Tarbell] said, “which few of his colleagues enjoyed—that of believing with childlike faith that all he claimed for protection was true.” … “This bill is an American bill,” he said. “It is made for the American people and American interests.” (cited in Merry, 2016, p. 32)

Though McKinley’s protectionist policies extracted an enormous political cost in 1890, they would eventually take him to both the Ohio governor's mansion and the White House (Merry, 2016). While governor, widespread recession and poor business decisions put McKinley in enormous personal debt and unable to pay off creditors. Only a last-minute rescue by friends kept him from resigning the governorship in disgrace (Phillips, 2003). Yet rather than damage his reputation, biographer Kevin Philips (2003) argues that the bailout may have actually made McKinley a sympathetic figure to many Americans who were also struggling through one of the greatest economic recessions in American history. Remarkably, the combination of McKinley’s protectionist political platforms and poor personal finance decisions unwittingly resulted in political gold. The recession would carry McKinley and his America-first inclinations to the White House as the incumbent, Grover Cleveland, struggled to contain the recession's economic damage (Graff, 2021; Schirmer & Shalom, 1987). Offering the shelter of economic protectionism for American businesses, McKinley’s candidacy marked a realignment within America’s political parties, and McKinley would become America’s first presidential candidate to receive significant financial support from big corporations (Schirmer & Shalom, 1987, p. 21). Under McKinley, the Republican party began its long drift away from Lincoln's purportedly radical emancipatory principles and toward the economic interests of big business. Even so, the protectionist McKinley did not enter the presidency with an eye toward extraterritorial expansion. “There will be no Jingo nonsense under my administration” McKinley assured a tentative supporter in 1897 (Merry, 2017, p. 212). McKinley’s inaugural address echoed these same sentiments: “We want no wars of conquest; we must avoid the temptation of territorial aggression.” Even as he later addressed Congress in the midst of the Spanish-American War, McKinley reiterated his commitment to non-expansion in the strongest terms: “I speak not of forcible annexation, for that cannot be thought of. That by our code of morality would be criminal aggression” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 40). While McKinley’s trade and tariff policies were marked with inherent nationalism, McKinley himself was not inherently inclined toward belligerency. If anything, McKinley came

into office promoting an agenda of peaceful resolution. He espoused arbitration to resolve conflict rather than war, and he communicated his policies as a benevolent and sincere, if unreflectively paternalistic, government bureaucrat. “War should never be entered upon,” stated McKinley, “until every agency of peace has failed” (President McKinley's Inaugural, 1897). Biographers largely portray McKinley as more of a protective provincialist than a chest- thumping jingoist (Cashman, 1993; Gates, 1973; Gould, 2019; Kapur, 2011; Merry, 2017; Miller, 1982; Phillips, 2003). When it came to American imperialism, however, most biographers argue that McKinley rode events as they came to him while doing little to shape those events. He knew how to manage a bureaucracy but was not particularly adept at shaping the soul of a nation during a moral crisis. McKinley would prove particularly inept at standing up to the jingoistic fervor that was sweeping America into the Spanish-American War (Karnow, 1989). When calls for war and ensuing occupations put the moral identity of Americans in crisis, a stronger leader might have resisted the demands for expansion and imperialism. Instead, McKinley seemed ignorant that forces within his own party, and even his administration, were shaping a war and an occupation to come (Karnow, 1989; Wolff 1960/2006). Economic interests drove this undercurrent of belligerency. As American businesses thrived under McKinley’s protectionism, the country’s domestic market provided an insufficient consumer base for capitalistic production (O’Brien, 1898/1987, p. 21). Senators Henry Cabot Lodge (R-MA) and Stephen Benton Elkins (R-WV) proposed a solution, however: expand the domestic market by acquiring more territory (specifically, the Philippines). The Boston Evening Transcript quotes their reasoning: With our protective tariff wall around the Philippine Islands, its ten million inhabitants, as they advance in civilization, would have to buy our goods, and we should have so much additional market for our home manufacturers. As a logical sequence of the protective system, if for no other reason, we should now acquire these islands and whatever other outlying territories seems desirable. (cited in O’Brien, 1898/1987, pp. 21- 22)

If the Boston Evening Transcript is correct, then the U.S. occupation of the Philippines was not an unforeseen accident of war, and the Philippines was not, as McKinley would later claim “dropped into our laps” (cited in Kapur, 2011, p. 29; also cited in Smith, 1985, p. 364). Rather the occupation was a deliberate and planned undertaking driven by American economic interests.

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Historian William A. Williams writes that “cabinet members were talking with McKinley at least as early as September 1897 (seven months before the U.S. declaration of war with Spain), ... about controlling the Philippines as a springboard into Asia if the United States went to war with Spain” (cited in Werking, 1973, p. 236). If true, however, it seems that McKinley himself was paying little attention. Upon receiving word of Dewey’s victory at Manila Bay, McKinley confessed to a friend that he “could not have told you where those darned islands were within two thousand miles” (cited in Kinzer, 2006, p. 47); he called for a map so that he might find where the first military encounter of the war had even taken place. Historian E.C. Legaspi (1968/1973) contends that “prior to the Battle of Manila Bay only the Lodge-Roosevelt clique linked the Philippines with United States intervention in Cuba” (p. 327). As early as 1896, Roosevelt and Lodge discussed the possibility of “our Asiatic squadron [blockading and possibly taking] Manila'' (Legaspi, 1968/1973, p. 256). Regardless, by the time that the U.S. and Spain were negotiating a peace treaty, McKinley himself had become firmly wed to America’s imperialistic commercial interest faction, heavily influenced and shaped by the avowed expansionists Senator Henry Cabot Lodge (R-MA), Theodore Roosevelt (McKinley’s one-time Assistant Secretary of the Navy), and naval theorist Alfred Thayer Mahan. For his part, Mahan provided a realpolitik justification for American expansion (i.e., a justification based on nationalistic, self-interested obsessions with power) (Bew, 2014; Rosenberg, 1982). In 1890, Mahan authored one of the most highly influential books of the age: The Influence of Sea Power Upon History: 1660–1783. By examining a series of European and American wars, Mahan concluded that sea power (which included the strength of a nation’s navy, its commercial fleet, its geography, and its access to ports) was the key to a nation’s wealth, prestige, and commercial interests (Baer, 1993; Rosenberg, 1982). Regardless of whether Mahan’s thesis was correct or not, his lesson found receptive students in Henry Cabot Lodge and Theodore Roosevelt (Auchincloss, 2002; Baer, 1993; Legaspi, 1968/1973; Rosenberg, 1982). As McKinley’s newly appointed Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Roosevelt took unprecedented liberties with his office to shape an American navy commiserate with Mahan’s lessons and Roosevelt’s own expansionist visions. Expenditures, shipbuilding, training, and modernization increased across the board. In one of his bolder moves, while the Secretary of the Navy was out of the office, Roosevelt positioned his personal acquaintance, a relatively junior

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Captain named George Dewey, to take command of the U.S. Asiatic Squadron; this despite the fact that Secretary Long had selected, but not announced, a more senior officer for the position, a fact of which Roosevelt was fully aware. Furious at the fait accompli, Long refused to grant Dewey a rank commensurate with his newly acquired position. Nonetheless, Roosevelt had strategically positioned a like-minded, ready-to-strike, and (also largely thanks to Roosevelt) well-armed expansionist on the far side of the world. And so, while President McKinley seemed oblivious that the Philippines even existed, an ambitious assistant cabinet secretary was setting the stage for the islands to miraculously drop into McKinley’s lap. When the USS Maine exploded in Havana Harbor, Roosevelt again leaned forward, issuing his own personal orders to Dewey without consulting with the President or the Secretary: Order the squadron...to Hong Kong. Keep full of coal. In the event of declaration of war with Spain, your duty will be to see that the Spanish squadron does not leave the Asiatic coast, and then offensive operations in Philippine Islands. (cited in Morris, 1979, p. 629)

If Roosevelt had his way, the islands would be in U.S. hands before McKinley even knew it was happening. Meanwhile, should Roosevelt produce an expansionist coup from within the McKinley Administration, it would be Senator Lodge’s job to solidify the imperialist gains in Congress. While Lodge shared Roosevelt’s “large policy” vision of American expansion, Lodge’s focus was American markets in Asia. Because “all of Europe is seizing China,” wrote Lodge a few weeks after Dewey’s victory, there is “consequent need to establish ourselves in the East so as not to be shut out of the Asian markets” (cited in Schirmer, 1972, p. 72). The Philippines, wrote Lodge in a separate correspondence, “must be ours … We hold the other side of the Pacific, and the value to this country is almost beyond imagination” (cited in Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 73; also cited in Werking, 1973, p. 236).

Economy (Part 1, continued): The Monroe Doctrine, realpolitik.

Having established that certain key individuals were pushing American policy toward expansion, allow me to take a step back and look at McKinley’s subsequent actions from another well-established American policy perspective: that of the Monroe Doctrine. From its founding, America had sought to limit European influence in the Western Hemisphere. In his farewell address, departing President George Washington (1796) advised his newly formed nation against becoming entangled in foreign affairs, particularly those of a Europe caught up in the turmoil of

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the French Revolution. Less than three decades later, the Monroe Doctrine of 1823 would declare “the Americas” as a meta-geographical region off limits to further European colonization (Stratton, 2016). The Monroe Doctrine would then be used to justify all manner of American intervention throughout the Western hemisphere. European, and especially Spanish influence (often conflated with the Catholic church) in the Americas was violently contested throughout the 19th century, culminating in military actions in the Mexican-American War (1846-1848), the Spanish-American War (1898), and eventually the Philippine-American War (1899-1902) (Stratton, 2016). Building on over a century of policy precedence then, as McKinley justified America’s intervention in Cuba, he reiterates the American requirement to limit European influence in the Americas. In instructions to his treaty negotiators bound for Paris, McKinley outlines his policy logic: … this country was impelled [to war with Spain] solely by the purpose of relieving grievous wrongs and removing long-existing conditions which disturbed its tranquility, which shocked the moral sense of mankind, and which could no longer be endured [...] The abandonment of the Western Hemisphere by Spain was an imperative necessity. [...] This lesson of events and of reason left no alternative as to Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the other islands belonging to Spain in this hemisphere. (McKinley, September 16, 1898, p. 907, emphasis mine)

Being 7,0000 miles removed from “this hemisphere,” however, the Philippines presented a somewhat different case. The Monroe Doctrine required a radical reinterpretation to justify American military excursions in the western Pacific, and even McKinley found it difficult to make such a leap. True, there was a Monroe-related logic to containing the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay. The fleet’s destruction prevented Spain from intervening in events in the Caribbean or from threatening U.S. interests in Hawai’i or the American West Coast. U.S. control of Manila Bay also prevented Spanish troops from repositioning to Cuba or Puerto Rico. The physical seizure of the Philippines itself, however, provided no particular value to the cause of Cuban liberation or for advancing the Monroe Doctrine. McKinley was therefore finally forced to concede his underlying reason for seizing and holding the Philippines. Despite equating American actions in the Philippines to its purported emancipation of Cuba, McKinley acknowledged that economic and commercial interests were driving his approach to the archipelago. As the American diplomatic team headed to Paris to negotiate the

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terms of peace with Spain, McKinley’s negotiating directions become uncharacteristically blunt regarding his commercial ambitions: [When compared to Cuba or Puerto Rico], the Philippines stand upon a different basis. [...] Incidental to our tenure in the Philippines is the commercial opportunity to which American statesmanship cannot be indifferent. It is just to use every legitimate means for the enlargement of American trade […]

[...] the United States cannot accept less than the cession in full right and sovereignty of the island of Luzon. It is desirable, however, that the United States shall acquire the right of entry for vessels and merchandise belonging to citizens of the United States into such ports of the Philippines as are not ceded to the United States upon terms of equal favor with Spanish ships and merchandise, both in relation to port and customs charges and rates of trade and commerce, together with other rights of protection and trade accorded to citizens of one country within the territory of another. You are therefore instructed to demand such concession … (McKinley, September 16, 1898, pp. 907-908, emphasis mine)

As McKinley finally makes unquestionably clear to his peace negotiators, the Philippines is first and foremost an economic opportunity for Americans. As his instructions to negotiators spell out, the territorial integrity19 of the archipelago matters little. McKinley only demands the main island of Luzon and the capital city of Manila for American “commercial opportunity.” After all, these were the most commercially lucrative sections of the archipelago. Spain could keep the rest of the islands as long as America was granted access to any ports that Spain might continue to control. That McKinley is willing to divide the archipelago with Spain is revealing. Even as McKinley justifies his actions by denouncing human rights abuses across the Spanish empire, his willingness to split the archipelago with the abuser tends to undermine any future arguments McKinley might make as to America’s commitment to the dignity, human rights, or political freedom of the Filipino people. Even with peace negotiations in progress, McKinley awkwardly orders yet another change in position (Wolff, 1960/2006). The presence of English, French, German and Japanese warships in the South China Sea serve to broadcast each nation’s ongoing interest in the unfolding events. Perhaps the complexity of global geopolitics in Asia were finally beginning to

19 Arguably the integrity of “Philippine territory” was a Spanish / Western construct that grouped a myriad of ethnic, linguistic, and religiously dissimilar people.

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dawn on McKinley. Much to the chagrin of American imperialists20, the Europeans and the Japanese had already carved up much of China and Southeast Asia. Over the course of the two opium wars Britain seized Hong Kong (in 1842) and Kowloon (in 1860). In 1862, France formalized control of large sections of Indochina. Portugal consolidated its political control over Macau in 1887. By 1895, China had been forced to recognize Japanese control of Korea and Taiwan. Germany took the Chinese port of Qingdao in 1897. U.S. imperialists fretted that there might be nothing of China left to take if America continued to fail to act. Despite McKinley’s seeming naivety in foreign affairs, however, the U.S. was not an innocent newcomer to the Pacific. U.S. merchants had been trading with China since as early as 1784 (Department of State, The Opening to China, n.d.). American fortunes had been made importing porcelain, silk, and tea from the Middle Kingdom. In response to Britain’s seizure of Hong Kong, the U.S. formalized its own access to several Chinese ports through the 1842 Treaty of Wanghia. In 1853, the U.S. forced Japan to open its ports to American shipping, a move taken, in large part, to better accommodate U.S. commerce with China (Department of State, U.S. Maritime Expansion, n.d.). In 1893, U.S. citizens staged the overthrow of Queen Liliuokalani’s government in Hawai’i, a strategically important waypoint between the U.S. and China (Britannica, 2020; Kramer, 2006b; Sai, 2018). As American occupation forces sailed from San Francisco to Manila, Congress voted to annex the Hawai’ian islands, acknowledging Hawai’i as a vital coaling station for occupation forces en route the Philippines (Heraclides & Dialla, 2015; Miller, 1982; Stratton, 2016; Wolff, 1960/2006). With Spain’s newly weakened Pacific territory now on the table, world powers carefully considered their opportunities. Britain had already occupied Manila once, towards the end of the Seven Years War (1756-1763). Imperial Japan twice offered to govern the Philippines should the U.S. choose to withdraw (Wolff, 1960/2006). Alarmingly, the German squadron on the scene in Manila Bay was easily large enough to overpower Dewey’s Asiatic squadron and take control. If America were to simply withdraw, a weakened Spain would likely be relieved of the Philippines by yet another world power in short order. The Germans might purchase them, or the Japanese might take them by force. If the U.S. retained the island of Luzon alone (as was

20 Who felt their country had been missing out on the colonial land grabs of the 19th century, and who were perhaps willfully oblivious to more than a century of U.S. lands grabs across continental North America.

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McKinley’s original position), Germany’s purchase of the remaining islands seemed likely.21 Justifiably, America did not welcome the possibility of an aggressive and expansive neighbor like the Kaiser’s Germany. Reconsidering the Philippines through the realpolitik lens of word affairs, McKinley again sent revised instructions to his negotiators, reneging on his earlier proposal to share the Philippines with Spain. America now demanded not just Luzon but the entirety of the Philippines. In the armistice of August 12th (signed the day before the mock Battle of Manila), Spain agreed to ceding Cuba, Puerto Rico, and “an island in the Ladrones” (i.e., Guam), but the fate of Manila and the Philippines remained unresolved (Johnston, 1899, p. 235). Four months later in Paris, Spanish treaty negotiators argued that the earlier armistice had negated any American claim to the Philippines. The U.S. post-armistice capture of Manila (i.e., the mock battle of Manila) violated the ceasefire in direct contravention of the agreement and in violation of international norms. Spanish negotiators maintained that Manila should rightly return to Spain. Privately, U.S. negotiators conceded that international law was on Spain’s side. McKinley, however, now fully invested in American commercial prospects in the Philippines, was entirely unsympathetic, and U.S. negotiators were left to argue his position. Ultimately, direct intervention by the Spanish crown resulted in the entirety of the Philippines being transferred to the U.S. for the price of $20 million (Ablet, 2004; Burnett, 2005; Heraclides & Dialla, 2015; Wesling, 2011) American imperialists argued that the U.S. needed access markets in Asia in order to ensure the nation’s continued economic prosperity. As McKinley eventually came to share their view, he also slowly began to understand that those markets could only be guaranteed with an American occupation of the Philippines in its entirety. American economic interests had necessarily driven McKinley’s policy approach from peaceful domestic protectionism to full- fledged jingoistic expansion. Accordingly, his benevolent assimilation proclamation would emphasize the importance of economics. This economic prioritization, however, would also come to undermine American purported efforts at democratic realization in the Philippines.

21 This possibility was realized in the Northern Mariana Islands. The U.S. claimed only one of the islands, Guam. Spain in turn sold its remaining Mariana islands to Germany. By mandate Japan took possession of the islands after WWI. Later, the Northern Mariana island of Saipan would become one of the bloodiest sites of WWII conflict between U.S. and Japanese forces. (Britannica, 2019)

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Economy (Part 2): Economy and the Trojan horse of freedom.

In this second section on economy, I explore how the McKinley proclamation’s emphasis on economy will come to be realized in specific policies that largely deny Filipino agency and meaningful democratic reforms. This effect is achieved through an emphasis on individual rights and personal property, a theme that runs through most of the proclamation (sentences 4-8 and 10-16). I explore this language largely through the scholarship of indigenous legal rights scholar James Tully (2014)—introduced in the chapter two literature review. Tully (2014) argues that Western civilization’s emphasis on individual rights and personal property act as tools to colonize and exploit indigenous populations. The West’s “standards of civilization”, including the “rule of law, openness to commerce, ... and modern liberty” (Tully, 2014, p. 25), create a “civil module” that favors privatized economic participation at the expense of democratic participation. “The democratic deficit,” states Tully (2014), “is a structural feature of the institutions of modern civil module and its four tiers of rights and duties” (p. 86). What Tully counters as true diverse democracy is contested by the powerful institutional structures of the modern and exploitative EuroAmerican / Western nation- state. Tully’s four tiers of rights and duties that characterize the modern democratic state are these: 1. freedom (i.e., civil liberties), 2. democracy (i.e., truly representative republican government in the Kantian sense), 3. social and economic rights (e.g., assembly, organization, and unionization), and, 4. minority rights (e.g., multiculturalism). The modern nation-state is constructed as the guarantor of these rights, and individuals enter into “civil” relationships with the state to protect these rights. Modern civil institutions, argues Tully (2014), are built to strengthen and maintain this relationship. Laws, education, military, civil service, et cetera are all created with these rights and duties in mind. However, what Tully (2014) calls the deficit of modern civilization is that the first tier right of freedom overwhelms its accompanying three tiers. This freedom of civil liberty, namely the freedom to own property and enter contracts with minimal government interference— “individual rights” and “personal property” in the language of McKinley’s proclamation (sentences 4, 5, 8, 10, 12, & 15)—is realized not in the political freedom of individual citizens

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but rather in their economic exploitation. This Western “standard of civilization” contains what Tully argues is a “Trojan horse” marketed as freedom. The Trojan horse of freedom is the freedom to perpetually colonize and exploit the economically disenfranchised. The rich have the freedom to own property and create contracts; the poor have the freedom to accept wages and abide by laws; and the government has a constitutional limitation on its ability to interfere in this process. While the bottom three tiers of rights (in forms such as representative government, unionization, and the ability to peacefully organize) provide some protection against tier one freedoms, the irrepressible appeal of individual rights and personal property results in exploitive conditions that go critically unexamined and largely unchallenged. Competing concepts such as public goods and public rights are extended little consideration in such a system. It is just such a system, however, that McKinley’s proclamation is imposing on the Filipino people. When examined through Tully’s lens, McKinley’s proclamation sets the stage for the commercial exploitation of the Philippines by emphasizing individual rights and personal property (sentences 4, 5, 8, 10, 12, & 15). The proclamation sets the conditions for the economic and political exploitation of poor Filipinos while corporations and the landed elite concentrate their own entrenched power. Any organized opposition to such a framework is overridden by the individual and personal property rights (that is, the civil liberty) that allows each individual Filipino seller to enter into a sales agreement with little consideration for the overall impact on the well-being of their society as a whole.

Economy (Part 2, continued): Land reform and education.

A short exploration of American land reform efforts demonstrates how Tully’s explanation of economic and political exploitation would come to be realized in McKinley's Philippines. The language of economy and the unwavering American commitment to private property rights in McKinley’s proclamation sets the stage for this exploitation. In short order, under American occupation, wealthy, business-minded Filipino elites will use this system to take control of local lands and public offices, which they will in turn use to advance their own private and political interests. Social disparities and income inequalities that had originated under Spanish imperialism will thus become only further entrenched by American colonial policies. Ultimately, the shape of public education in the Philippines would be profoundly affected by the way these policies played out.

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Aurora L. Almeda Martin (1999) writes that U.S. colonial land reform efforts attempted to realize two, not incompatible but also not mutually reinforcing goals: that of “benevolent intentions and the desire to make the Philippines a profitable colony” (p. 188). The language of McKinley’s proclamation set the stage for the Philippine Organic Act of 1902. Among other things, the Organic Act advanced two competing visions for land use: It promoted the redistribution of public and church lands (a.k.a. friar lands) to poor Filipino farmers (a policy favored by the Filipino peasantry and revolutionaries) while simultaneously keeping large estate plantations viable and profitable (a policy favored by corporations, investors, and wealthy local landlords). These competing visions were further complicated by the language of McKinley’s proclamation, which previously established that the rights of private property, and thus the land ownership of the friars and the hacienda Dons, would continue to be respected. The result was an American colonial intervention that accomplished neither benevolence nor profitability, but that exacerbated and reinforced the already high levels of economic injustice and income inequality across the archipelago (Almeda Martin, 1999). Within two years, impatient and profit-focused U.S. administrators would determine that the Filipino peasantry was largely incapable of assuming their desired roles as responsible landowners. Instead, to achieve colony profitability administrators would necessarily advance policies that favored the large plantations held by wealthy elites (Ventura, 2016). Theresa Ventura (2016) notes that the early U.S. colonial administrators made some early and perhaps honest, if misguided, attempts at redistributive justice in the form of land ownership opportunities for poor Filipinos. Inspired by the domestic Homesteader Act of 1862, in which U.S. citizens and prospective citizens could claim up to 160 acres of surveyed land in the American West, the Philippine Organic Act promoted the redistribution of 68 million acres of publicly held land to small farmers. By assuming a North American White settler norm, however, these American land reform policies failed to consider the particulars of what a land redistribution set in the Philippines would entail. Unlike homesteading on the largely undeveloped open plains of North America, tenant farming in the Philippines had occurred for generations and indigenous tenant farmers were intimately familiar with the land. Rather than the relatively large and evenly distributed homesteads of North America, potential Philippine homesteaders instead focused on acquiring lands that they knew to be the most fertile, often small irregular shaped plots near sources of

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irrigation (Ventura, 2016). These small plots created an additional funding problem for American administrators. Recall that McKinley's proclamation set a tone that sensitized American administrators to the overall cost of the colonial venture. It occasionally even delved into the detailed minutiae of colonial administration that seemed wholly inappropriate for a top-level policy document. In sentence twelve, for instance, McKinley directs that receipts be issued for any private property seized by the military (though such a demand is certainly within the President’s purview, one can only imagine the absurdity of an American President reconciling receipts in the oval office). Accounting practices aside, what this odd sentence underscores is that the financial costs of occupation would receive attention from the highest levels of government. Along this cost- conscious theme, the proclamation also directed administrators to seek revenues that would contribute to “the expenses of government” (sentence 11). Additionally, it called for collecting “the revenues of the state” (sentence 10), “taxes and duties” (sentence 11), and “duties and other charges” (sentence 14). This cost-conscious emphasis would manifest in ways that ran counter to realizing distributive justice through land reform. Once administrators understood that they were losing money on every small homestead application that they processed (because fees were tied to the size of the plot), they found it best to simply reject small claims outright (Almeda Martin, 1999; Ventura, 2016). As a result, the poorest Filipinos, who might have gained the most from such a program, were largely excluded from it as a governmental cost-saving measure. This was not the program’s only problematic shortcoming either. Where plots in North America had been surveyed by the government at no cost to the applicant, surveys in the Philippines were instead charged to the homesteader, helping to place the application fee beyond what many poor Filipinos could afford. Also, the application process itself assumed a level of literacy and an ability to travel that simply did not exist for many potential applicants (Ventura, 2016). To further complicate the process, any competing claims to lands required court litigation: a cost that few poor Filipinos could afford (Almeda Martin, 1999). Additionally, as homesteading was open to any citizen of the Philippines, the United States, and U.S. insular properties, poor Filipinos were pitted against rich merchants, immigrants, and external investors. And as if this were not enough, the archipelago’s population of carabao (water buffalo), which served as the Philippines’ primary draft animal, had been devastated by warfare and disease.

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Lacking access to animals, tools, and capital, American-style homesteading programs were simply out of reach for most poor Filipinos (Ventura, 2016). The redistribution of friar lands was similarly problematic. The friars had accompanied Spanish conquistadors since the 16th century, serving as missionaries of the Catholic Church (Cunningham, 1916; Pilapil, 1961; Reuter, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). Three centuries later these Catholic Orders (Recollect, Dominican, Augustinian, and Franciscan) owned almost 500,000 acres of the best farmland in the northern Philippines and were arguably the archipelago’s center of political power (Cunningham, 1916; Kramer, 2006b; Reuter, 1982; Wolff, 1960/2006). In 1903 the Catholic Church, at the insistence of U.S. colonial administrators, agreed to sell the friar’s holdings to a New York bank for $7.2 million (Pilapil, 1961; Reuter, 1982; Ventura, 2016). Consequently, sixty-thousand former friar tenants were then given the opportunity to purchase their newly liberated land outright (Ventura, 2016). The Church, however, extracted a premium price for its land that the purchasing bank, in turn, would need to recoup. Former friar lands were thus priced well in excess of market value and out of reach for most former tenants (Iyer & Maurer, 2009; Ventura, 2016). As a result, most friar lands, like the formerly public homestead lands, worked their way into the private holdings of wealthy investors: … most tenant farmers were unable to participate as beneficiaries, so that over half of the area acquired passed directly by sale or lease to American or Filipino businessmen. In fact, most tenant beneficiaries eventually lost their land to money lenders because they lacked access to credit and agricultural support services. … [U.S. colonial land policies] provided landowners and other business interests an opportunity to increase their land holdings and thereby perpetuate the pattern of plantation agriculture. (Ventura, 2016, p. 193)

Given the overall economic injustice that U.S. land redistribution policies were exacerbating, many poor Filipinos began to question the wisdom, legality, and desired permanence of U.S. colonial land policies altogether. With the friars no longer serving as landlords, some former tenants argued that they had inherited the land outright; others had been swindled into making bogus land purchases and were understandably reluctant to pay for the same land twice; still others believed that a coming war with Japan might obviate any U.S. legal claims to the islands (Reuter, 1982; Ventura, 2016). The simple fact was that U.S. colonial policies would only intensify the economic disenfranchisement, and correspondingly the political disenfranchisement, of a huge and now further disgruntled segment of the Filipino population.

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As U.S. redistribution policies aggravated inequalities across the archipelago, colonial officials deflected criticisms by pointing to the cultural and educational deficiencies of the Filipino peasantry. Filipinos, they charged, were not requesting large, agriculturally profitable, plots. Additionally, they deemed that the Filipino practice of using fire to clear lands was both illegal and, even more damning of a subalternated people, uncivilized (Ventura, 2016). Demonstrating a dearth of imagination, America’s colonial administrators failed to consider that the environment of the Philippines differed from that of North America and thus required different approaches to agriculture. A scarcity of capital, equipment, and livestock in the Philippines compelled Filipino farmers to apply for small, affordable plots and to resort to agricultural burning because they had no other options. The tools and animals that might normally be used to clear land were simply not available. Ultimately, for most Filipinos, America’s restrictive land redistribution policies foreclosed any dreams they might have of land ownership. Ventura (2016) argues that American administrators denied their shortcomings by weaving policy failures into the larger overall narrative of Filipino subalternity: Redistributive land policy did not fail because Filipinos were culturally disposed against it. It failed because American administrators did not modify it in a way that would bring tools, credit, and carabao to small-scale farmers, and, crucially, to guarantee protection for how people used the land. To do so would have acknowledged that the policy, not Filipinos, had failed. [...] Administrators … interpreted the very need for ... adjustments as a sign of the Filipino failure to embrace modernity and development. (Ventura, 2016, p. 478, emphasis mine)

Such characterizations underscored the more important issue of Filipino unfitness for political self-determination. Until the occupied could govern themselves, as demonstrated by realizing the policy goals of their colonial masters, they would remain the subaltern charges of America. Ultimately America’s emphasis on short-term profitability undermined what might have been meaningful land ownership reforms geared toward wealth redistribution and social justice. In so doing, American policies also served to cripple participatory democracy and further entrench the plutocracy of the Philippines' small class of landed elites. As Clifton Sherrill (2006) explains The United States missed the opportunity to break apart the elitist class system when it auctioned the old church lands off to the highest bidders rather than adopting a more socially conscious land redistribution program. As the elites were the only ones able to afford the auctioned properties, the sale merely enhanced existing economic disparities

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and furthered the class divide. Consequentially, elections emerged as contests among the elites, and tenant farmers were compelled to follow the wishes of their landlords at the risk of being thrown off the land. (p. 215)

For wealthy elites, the acquisition of land resulted in more tenants, and more tenants resulted in even greater political power for elites. Wealth and power begat more wealth and more power. McKinley's signature political brand, protectionist trade tariffs, would also contribute in unexpected ways to elite entrenchment in the Philippines. While imperialists like Senator Lodge had argued that the Philippines would be a means of expanding American markets, not every American agreed. American agriculturalists as well as workers concerned about low-cost competition from the Philippines, in cooperation with American anti-imperialists hoping to “halt possible economic exploitation of the colonies” (Go, 2000, p. 346), effectively lobbied Congress so that the U.S. would maintain a high trade barrier with its own colony (Go, 2000). Rather than existing within Lodge’s “protective tariff wall” to promote U.S. exports, a weary Congress instead placed the Philippines outside that wall in order to protect domestic special interests. These high trade barriers were, in turn, paired with restrictions on the amount of land that outside corporations could purchase or lease in the Philippines (Almeda Martin, 1999; Go, 2000). Ostensibly passed to protect domestic production from potential offshoring and to protect domestic workers from competition with foreign low wage workers, these laws had the secondary consequence of further increasing the power and influence of entrenched local elites in the Philippines (Go, 2000).

The impact on education funding.

American colonial administrators had been counting on increased tax revenues, spurred by an influx of American capital, to fund the archipelago's infrastructure development including its public education system (Go, 2000). When Congress placed the Philippines outside of America’s economic protectionist wall, however, those plans fell apart. If infrastructure projects and public schools were going to proceed without U.S. commercial investment, then such improvements would require taxing a largely destitute local population instead, an arrangement reminiscent of Spain’s own revolution-inspiring tax system. As Julian Go (2000) explains, American would come to institute these new taxes, but the taxes “came with a hitch: active collaboration with [a largely corrupt] Filipino elite … [because the elites] were the only ones who could help collect the new taxes and mobilize local populations” (p. 349).

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If Americans ever imagined that their occupation was a means for paving the way to a more just, equitable, or democratic system of self-government, i.e., a system that was no longer dominated by a handful of wealthy elites, this was certainly not what was unfolding in the Philippines. Instead, the colony’s “new municipal offices … were quickly monopolized by the local elite—wealthy landowners, merchants, and, to a lesser extent educated professionals” (Go, 2000, pp. 339-340). Widespread corruption ensued. Go (2000), citing a 1901 U.S. Philippine Commission report, writes that “municipal officials were pocketing public funds for themselves, using the police forces as their “personal servants” and “muchachos,” and were collecting “illegal taxes to boot” (p. 342). In their desperation to perpetuate American governance, though, U.S. colonial administrators had necessarily come to rely on these elites. Doling out resources and concessions to the very “caciques” [prominent landowners] and “bosses” whom they had initially planned to discipline, the Americans at the apex of the colonial state had become less the tutors for democracy than the imperial patrons of a local patrimonial regime in formation. (Go, 2000, p. 351)

American administrators allowed this developing oligarchy / kleptocracy to unfold because it ultimately served the interests of an economically motivated colonial administration. Moreover, the arrangement also eased management efforts as colonial administrators were now required to only deal with a small, business-minded percentage of the population that favored these American economic policies.

A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s economy.

How does McKinley’s language of economy expand an understanding of the cosmopolitan components of respect, responsibility, and rootedness? As with the language of sovereignty, the language of economy continued to deny cosmopolitan notions of respect and dignity to the poorest and most vulnerable people of the Philippines while it simultaneously perverted notions of responsibility and advanced a profit-motivated American rootedness. Regarding respect, American colonial land reform in the Philippines denied respect by biasing its politics on North American White settler cultural and social norms. Yet colonial administrators failed to establish the environmental conditions for White settler norms (a practical impossibility) even as they failed to adjust policies and practices to account for their differences. Rather than attempting a version of Restivo’s cosmopolitan “third culture” as a bridge connecting American and Filipino political and ethical ends—and ultimately developing

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into something unique in its own right—Americans demanded the monological adoption of American practices in a non-American setting. When the peasantry failed to meet the colonizer’s expectations, rather than crossing borders to engage Filipinos on their own terms, administrators simply dismissed poor Filipinos as uncivilized and unreformable. As a result, poor Filipinos were ultimately relegated to the work of tenancy and farmhands for hacienda plantations controlled by elites. Simultaneously, the language of economy came to promote the agency of Filipino elites as they exploited both the peasantry and American policies to their own benefit, ultimately creating a colonial system that was reliant on a local elite class. It would seem that reliance on a corrupted local elite class was not unique to European-style colonialism, as proponents of an American-style “benevolent” colonialism contended, after all. Through it all, American administrators refused to come to term with the likelihood that it was their policies creating the conditions for that corruption. As for cosmopolitan responsibility, land reform could be seen as a means of envisioning ends and enacting means to realize one’s moral obligation to Others. In this case, one might argue that Americans attempted to realize some form of responsible ethical obligation in the form distributive justice in which the peasantry received an opportunity to purchase former public and friar lands. This opportunity fell short of cosmopolitan notions of responsibility in numerous ways, however. American administrators eschewed practices of deliberative justice even as they abandoned distributive justice efforts for the sake of expediency, profitability, and ease. Rather than assisting the peasantry on their own terms and within their own particular conditions, Americans instead abandoned redistributive justice efforts and relegated the peasantry to the exploitative paternalism of elite landowners. Finally, we see that McKinley’s proclamation roots American control in economy, commercial opportunity, and profitability rather than in a cosmopolitan-like moral flourishing. Though McKinley would initially disavow jingoistic calls for expansion, his America-first economic policies inevitably carried him to extraterritorial expansion once that expansion could be squared with American economic interests. Even as the forces within the American public, Congress, and even his own administration pushed America toward the occupation of the Philippines, had McKinley been personally grounded in a respect for Others, in a responsibility that recognized and enacted one’s moral obligations to Others, and a rootedness that promoted moral human flourishing within the American system of governance (and not just in economic

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growth), McKinley might have resisted such calls. He might have even used such a cosmopolitan grounding to find intersecting Filipino and American interests. Perhaps he could have led America in learning to live (justly) among Others rather than learning about (how to exploit) Others. Instead, as a man almost entirely rooted in his own nation’s economic prospects, once McKinley came to believe that the Philippines presented a “commercial opportunity… for the enlargement of American trade,” the call for American occupation became simply irresistible.

Beneficence The final theme of McKinley’s proclamation is that of beneficence. I approach this theme in three parts. First, I explore the ongoing American come-over-and-help-us narrative that has been used to promote and justify centuries of European and American settler colonialism. McKinley’s proclamation, in turn, expands this widely accepted social narrative to include an American presence in the Philippines. Second, I look at how the ethic of realism helps explain McKinley’s notions of beneficence and moral consideration as McKinley extends American beneficence to its newly acquired territory. Finally, I provide a historical account of the brutality that McKinley’s benevolence would come to bear on the Filipino people. America would come to enact violence for the cause of McKinley’s beneficence. McKinley’s proclamation ends by summing up the numerous benevolent purposes that the “inhabitants of the Philippines” (sentence 15) should tie to their country’s occupation by the United States. Unlike a European or Japanese occupation (or even a self-determining Filipino government), this American occupation, by the “free people” (sentence 15) and under the “free flag of the U.S.” (sentence 16) will promote the “greatest good of the governed” (sentence 16). The U.S. occupation has the “high mission” of providing a “temperate” and “good and stable government “(sentence 16). As long as the natives actively “cooperate” (sentence 6) in their “benevolent assimilation” (sentence 15), they will be the recipients of America’s “beneficent purposes” (sentence 6). If they refuse, however, they will be subjected to the “firmness” (sentence 7) of the “supreme” and “absolute domain of military authority” (sentence 8). Additionally, McKinley reassures “the natives” that “we come … as friends” (sentence 5). No doubt that all occupiers desire their occupation to be a friendly one, anticipating docile subjects lacking agency that happily trade one occupier for the next and that graciously accept

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the new occupier’s “liberation.” The most cursory understanding of recent Philippine history at the turn of the century, however, might have told McKinley that, while Filipinos valued liberation and political agency, any subsequent occupation would create problems. As McKinley asserts American beneficence, it’s worth reiterating that the Filipino people never asked for American help or for a U.S. presence on their archipelago. Quite the opposite, it was American diplomats who first petitioned for Filipino help, convincing the revolutionary leader Emilio Aguinaldo to return from exile and join forces with the American Army. Still, McKinley words his proclamation as if providence had led America to a beckoning Filipino people hungry for outside assistance. I pause to explore this “come over and help us” narrative and its long relationship with the Americas.

The American “come over and help us” fantasy.

McKinley’s “come over and help us” framing of benevolence can be traced to a biblical account in the book of Acts. After the apostle Paul’s proselytizing is rejected in what is today northern and western Turkey, Paul has a dream. And a vision appeared to Paul in the night: A man of Macedonia was standing beseeching him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” And when he had seen the vision, immediately we sought to go on into Macedonia concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them. (Acts 16:9-10, Revised Standard Version, 2nd ed.)

In Macedonia, Paul and his companion experience some successes, but when their actions threaten the economic well-being of local elites, they are beaten, abused, and imprisoned. Eventually Paul has had enough and leaves for Athens. Later, the 17th century Massachusetts Bay Colony would build on this biblical account to attract settlers to the Americas. The Bay Colony’s seal specifically targeted European Christians inspired by the example of their evangelizing apostle. The fantasized image of an unclothed American native begging potential colonists to “come over and help us,” however, was an act of sheer ventriloquism, projecting a message the colonizers wanted to hear rather than a message the native people of the new world wanted to convey (Bross, 2003). As with McKinley’s proclamation and its language of benevolence, the come-over-and-help message “signals the arrogance of an invading people who could make themselves believe that they were being invited to occupy a land inhabited by another, self-sufficient people” (Bross, 2003, p. 395). As Katrina Bross (2003) explains, the seal of the Massachusetts Bay Colony had two

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audiences in mind, and neither were native to America. The first audience was the potential English colonist who might need a touch more encouragement to make the voyage. The second audience, and perhaps the more important, was the English patron upon whom the Massachusetts colonies relied (Bross, 2003). For those colonists already in the new land, however, the seal conveyed little about the local conditions. The earliest English colonizers were in survival mode and in no position to actually “help” in any way (Bross, 2003), even if the natives had requested it. Later in North American, the “come over and help us” narrative would continue to feed the “settler fantasy” (Truett, 2019) of what White, Northern European-heritage Americans imagined their ongoing western expansion might entail, all while simultaneously ignoring the harsh realities of genocide, cultural destruction, and economic exploitation for the native population (Lomawaima & McCarty, 2006). It was this fantasy that Europeans brought to the Americas, that settlers carried westward across the American continent, and that McKinley now sent across the Pacific to the Philippines.

Benevolence and the ethic of realism.

The ethic of realism also aids in contextualizing McKinley’s notions of beneficence. Realism is often referred to as the primary competitor to cosmopolitan ethics (Baylis et al., 2014; Snauwaert, 2009). Where cosmopolitanism advances a responsibility to Others based on a shared humanity that transcends tribal borders, realism contends that “the only viable ethics are those of self-interest” (Baylis et al., p. 202) and assigns the nation-state the penultimate role of preserving that self-interest. Beyond the nation-state, contends the realist, lies anarchy (Snauwaert, 2009). Realists presuppose that communal / national identity overrides a shared humanity to the degree that moral consideration stops at the border of the society. This presupposition in turn generates a corollary assumption of the existence [of] a state of perpetual war. (Snauwaert, 2009, p. 16).

While considering Snauwaert’s description of realism, it worth noting that realists are not devoid of moral consideration. To the contrary, they give it a high premium. Much of the political legitimacy of the realist nation-state is tied to ensuring the moral consideration of its citizens. But for the realist, that moral consideration is defined by the nation-state and ends at the borders of the nation-state. It is a nationalistic / tribalistic live-and-let-live (or die) approach

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that reduces moral consideration to the borders of one’s own group. Realist ethics are largely indifferent to the fate of Others except as it affects the individual’s own well-being, and, by extension, the well-being of their nation or tribe (Snauwaert, 2009). Given the limitations that realism places on moral consideration, one might ask how a realist-inspired nation-state might extend moral consideration to the Other? That is to say, how might consideration be extended to those that exist outside the realist’s nation-state? A philosophically coherent, if ethically questionable, solution is the one McKinley was enacting in the Philippines: expanding the realist nation-state so that the Other is now contained within the state’s borders. With the Other now in the larger nation-state, the nation-state has a right, and even a realist-inspired duty, to extend its version of beneficence and moral consideration to its new subjects. What constitutes moral consideration at this point, however, is almost exclusively defined by the monological and expansive nation-state rather than the state’s newly acquired subjects. Within the realists’ framework, the argument is something like this: “You were in your own home yesterday and you did not move to another, but today you woke up in mine and therefore I have a duty to take care of you.” Applying this argument to the Filipino people, who hadn’t “owned” their own home for centuries, it was going to bed in their Spanish home and waking in their American one.22 In an 1899 address to Methodist ministers,23 McKinley would reflect on the origins of his “moral consideration” for the Filipino people. In doing so, he took this consideration one step further, advancing it to realm of religious martyrdom: ... there was nothing left for us to do but take them all, and to educate the Filipinos, and uplift and civilize and Christianize them, and by God's grace do the very best we could by them, as our fellow-men, for whom Christ also died. (cited in Rusling, 1903/1987, pp. 22- 23; also cited in Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 174)

McKinley’s words elevate the realist-influenced expansion of moral consideration by declaring his extension of the nation-state as a selfless, even Christ-like, sacrifice. In his declarations to

22 For the United States, however, such realist-inspired expansion was not new. Fifty years prior, for example, Mexican citizens living north of the Rio Grande faced a similar experience, finding themselves the subjects of Mexico one day and of the United States the next. 23 A devout Methodist, on the day of her son’s presidential inauguration, McKinley’s mother expressed regret that her dream of William becoming a minister would never come true (Kapur, 2011; Vestner, 2020).

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the ministers, however, McKinley combines a willful ignorance of over 300 years of Spanish and Catholic influence with the self-righteous zeal of a missionary educating those they have not taken the time to understand.24 The result was a potent combination of intellectual shallowness and moral self-righteousness that would come to affect tens of millions of lives for generations. McKinley’s realist-inspired moral consideration was, to him it seems, neither colonialism nor imperialism but benevolent self-sacrifice. Moreover, education would be a part of that sacrifice. For McKinley, to educate a subaltern people was to recognize the deficiency of the Filipino and, concomitantly, to sacrifice for the cause of correcting that deficiency. Sadly, political- missionary-would-be-educators like McKinley lacked a rooted introspection that would critically consider their own deficiencies while simultaneously dismissing the physical, mental, and spiritual sacrifices that a Western imposed education would demand of its forthcoming pupils. The imagined narrative of selfless moral consideration for a deficient, subaltern people was popular among proponents of American expansion at the turn of the 20th century. Writing with the American occupation of the Philippines in mind, the celebrated English author Rudyard Kipling captured this sentiment in his iconic 1899 poem The White Man’s Burden. Rhetorically, Kipling inverts the litter of colonization by characterizing colonizers as servants of the colonized. It is through the realist-influenced moral paternalism of the colonizer that Kipling poetically glorifies the ongoing global (and particularly the Anglo-American) system of colonization and imperialism. Consider the first of Kipling’s verses, which exalts the burden of Americans as they bind themselves to a sullen, ungrateful Filipino subaltern in need of salvation. Take up the White Man's burden— Send forth the best ye breed— Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need; To wait in heavy harness On fluttered folk and wild— Your new-caught, sullen peoples, Half devil and half child.

In the six verses that follow, Kipling continues to laud the selfless, dangerous, and thankless sacrifice of the colonizer, never stopping to consider the often-brutal conditions of those living under the yoke of colonization, the paralysis and destruction of local cultures and languages, nor

24 Ironically, Spain promoted the Christianizing of the Americas centuries before the existence of the United States, yet now the U.S. is promoting the Christianizing of Spanish territory.

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the flow of resources and the products of labor from the colonized to the colonizer. As if providing a cosmopolitan-inspired retort to Kipling, the scholar Yoonhye Kim (2017) reminds us that “imperialism, colonialism, and racism are immoral and unethical because they deny the [cosmopolitan] status of each individual as equal human beings...” (p. 168). If Kim’s analysis is correct, and I believe it is, then Kipling’s White Man’s Burden, like McKinley’s proclamation, is an anthem expressly antithetical to cosmopolitanism. The irresolvable incompatibility between Filipino desire for self-determination and McKinley’s realist-inspired occupation would ultimately lead to military conflict.

The violence of beneficence.

On February 4th, 1899, tensions between the “benevolent” U.S. forces occupying Manila and the Filipino forces surrounding the city finally escalated to gunfire, marking the start of years of war to come. As the war progresses, historian Luzviminda Francisco (1973/1987) captures the dawning realization of American commanders that their enemy is not just the ill-equipped revolutionary army of Filipino President Emilio Aguinaldo, but the whole of the Filipino people. Initially, U.S. Commanding General Ewell Otis, a veteran of the Civil War and several U.S.- Indian Wars, simplified Filipino resistance by equating it with Native American resistance and attributing it exclusively to the Tagalog “tribe.” His replacement, General Arthur MacArthur, however, would eventually come to the sweeping and largely correct conclusion that “the Filipinos [writ-large] hated the Americans” (Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 14). The successful guerrilla tactics that the Filipino army had come to employ, MacArthur believed, “depended upon almost complete unity of action of the entire native population” (cited in Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 11). Once this explanation was accepted by occupation leadership, every Filipino became a suspected enemy of America. Unfamiliar with and frustrated by guerilla warfare tactics, operating in an oppressively hot and humid tropical environment, and unable to distinguish friend from foe, the U.S. Army largely took McKinley’s call for “firmness if need be” (sentence 7) and “the strong arm of authority, to repress disturbances and to overcome all obstacles” (sentence 16) as a signal that beneficence could be realized through unrestrained brutality. In addressing the brutal subjugation of a minoritized (through not a minority) people, it is perhaps worth a brief reflection on race in America in the age of McKinley: a post-reconstruction

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era of lynching, political oppression, and renewed segregation. Historian Rayford Logan (1954) refers to the period following reconstruction through McKinley’s presidency as the nadir of race relations in America. The Geary Act of 1892 extended and strengthened the Chinese Exclusion Act, further restricting Chinese immigration and abolishing many legal rights for American residents of Chinese ancestry. Lynching in the 1890s, particularly of individuals with African, Chinese, and Italian ancestry, had risen to the point where even McKinley felt compelled to denounce the practice in his first inaugural address. Even so, McKinley’s critics contend that the president did little of substance to address the issue (Gould, 2019; Meyers & Meyers Walker; 2018; Russell, 2013). If anything, McKinley’s presidency may have emboldened ongoing race- related hate crimes: Seventy-eight lynchings occurred the year before McKinley took office; while one-hundred twenty-three would occur in the first year of McKinley’s watch (Library of Congress, n.d.). As for segregation, only the year before McKinley took office, Plessy versus Ferguson established race-based segregation as the law of the land. Notably, that segregation also extended to America’s volunteer occupation force. Even as Spanish-American War hysteria gripped the nation and American citizens clamored to enlist, Black Americans were omitted from the initial calls for volunteers. The post- reconstruction efforts of White America had worked not only to deny political power to Black Americans, it had also defined Blackness as the antithesis of civilization (Dphrepaulezz, 2013). Given this logic, the presence of Black citizen-soldiers would signal something of an internal inconsistency in the colonial project itself as the “anti-civilized” Black fought for the cause of White civilization. For their part, Black owned newspapers noted the incoherency and injustice of freeing Cubans abroad while American citizens continued to be violently oppressed at home (Russell, 2013). Still, many Black Americans felt that time spent in military service could promote their acceptance as fully-fledged American citizens (Russell, 2013). Longing to purchase full citizenship through the promise of blood sacrifice in combat, Black Americans necessarily fought their way into the Army as a signal of their own agency within the racialized American nation-state. Even so, as segregation and racial oppression pervaded McKinley’s America, the military was not immune. Prejudices learned at home were only reinforced abroad as volunteers took part in the ongoing personal and structural racism found in the U.S. and its armed forces. The personal correspondence of service members indicates that inherent American racism demonstrably

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crippled the typical (i.e., White) American soldier’s ability to ethically or beneficently interact with the Filipino people. In letters home, American soldiers often referred to Filipino people with the most racially derogatory epithets. Historian Luzviminda Francisco (1973/1987) cites what she considers an emblematic letter from a U.S. soldier to their family back home: “On Thursday, March 29th [1900] … eighteen of my company killed seventy-five nigger bolomen and ten of the nigger gunners… When we find one who is not dead, we have bayonets…” (p. 13). Similarly, Kramer (2006b) captures story-after-story of American soldiers writing home to boast of their participation in “nigger hunts” (p. 144). Both Kramer (2006b) and Francisco (1973/1987) note that the language of U.S. soldiers, referring to Filipinos as “niggers,” “gugus,” “barbarians,” and “savages” was not an anomaly, but reflected “both the racist and imperialist attitudes of American society at large” (Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 10). Schirmer and Shalom (1987) surmise that this “racial prejudice appears to have accentuated the cruel and brutal character of the U.S. war of conquest, marked as it was by the use of torture, the killing of prisoners, and genocidal tendencies” (p. 7). With the local population classified as both an enemy and as a racial subaltern, and with seeming complicity from the U.S. Commander-in-Chief, terror tactics, torture, and overall depopulation campaigns were normalized in the name of realist-inspired American beneficence. American soldiers burned villages, destroyed storehouses and crops, moved Filipinos from their ancestral homelands to concentration camps, while packing others into open wooden pens and forcing them to sleep standing in the rain (Francisco, 1973/1987). To extract information, Americans subjected their Filipino captives to waterboarding, or the water cure as it was then known—a form of torture that simulates drowning (Einolf, 2014).25 Imprisoned in cramped conditions and unable to tend crops or livestock (much of which was being destroyed by American soldiers anyways), hunger and disease devastated the Filipino population (Francisco, 1973/1987; Wolff, 1960/2006). As if that were not enough, some U.S. commanders instituted targeted extermination campaigns, often in disproportionate response to Filipino guerilla-style offensive actions. On the island of Samar, General Jacob Smith ordered the slaughter of any Filipino over ten (Francisco,

25 The abhorrent American practice of waterboarding continues in the 21st century, and its modern practitioners / advocates include the two most recent U.S. presidents from McKinley’s party.

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1973/1987; Gates, 1973; Kramer, 2006b; Wolff, 1960/2006). In the province of Batangas, General Franklin Bell declared that “all consideration and regard for the inhabitants of this place cease from the day I become commander” (cited in Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 17); true to his word, by the end of the year fifty-four thousand Batangas residents would be dead (Wolff, 1960/2006). A U.S. soldier wrote home that General Loyd Wheaton ordered his troops to “burn the town and kill every native in sight, which was done” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 253). A visiting American congressman reported (under conditions of anonymity) that on the island of Luzon “our soldiers took no prisoners ... they simply swept the country and wherever and whenever they could get hold of a Filipino, they killed him….” (Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 16). The result, writes Wolff (1960/2006), was the death of as much as one sixth of Luzon’s population. Moreover, this strategy of terror was just the beginning. As Military Governor-General of the Philippines, General Arthur MacArthur estimated that the Philippines would need a continued “ten years of bayonet treatment” (Francisco, 1973/1987, p. 14) to fully subjugate the people. In 1906, American “bayonet treatment” would culminate with the U.S. Army’s massacre of as many as a thousand men, women, and children on the island of Sulu (Dphrepaulezz, 2013) under the command of General Leonard Wood, President McKinley’s former White House physician. By some estimates over ten percent of the entire population, and perhaps as many as a million Filipinos, died during the war, mostly to hunger and disease (Francisco, 1973/1987; Justice, 2009; Wolff, 1960/2006). Congressional delegates reported that toward the end of the war there was no resistance in some areas because there was no-one left to resist (Francisco, 1973/1987; Wolff, 1960/2006). Exceeding any previous brutality by Spain, or later brutality by the Japanese in WWII, Historian Leon Wolff (1960/2006) refers to the American occupation as the “bloodiest conflict in Philippine history” (p. 221). Even if Americans opposed the harsh means of their military, press censorship kept most in the dark as to the brutal conditions that McKinley’s beneficent assimilation had created (Francisco, 1973/1987; Kramer, 2006b; Wolff, 1960/2006). When journalists tried to correctly report that Americans had started the war by firing first, for instance, General Otis had the copies altered to say that hostilities had been initiated by Filipinos (Wolff, 1960/2006). As with many falsehoods that followed, Otis explained that he had to suppress the facts to shield people from “distortions and sensationalism” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 261). One of Otis’ more candid censoring officers straightforwardly declared that “my instructions are to shut off everything that

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could hurt McKinley’s administration” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 261). “Of course we know we are in a terrible mess out here,” shared a staff officer, “but we don’t want the folks to get excited about it” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 261). When reporters complained, Otis threatened to court martial them for conspiracy (Wolff, 1960/2006. p. 261). Similarly, when MacArthur took command, he threatened journalists for printing any article that would be considered “seditious” or “injure the occupation” (Kramer, 2006b, p. 137). American beneficence, it seemed, existed in tension with the truth. The rhetorical narrative that the American public received, however, was that of McKinley’s benevolence.

A cosmopolitan-oriented review of McKinley’s beneficence.

How does this exploration of beneficence contribute to an understanding of the cosmopolitan components of respect, responsibility, and rootedness? Again, as with McKinley’s language of sovereignty and economy, we see an overall denial of respect coupled with paternalism and ideology. Regarding respect, McKinley’s notions of benevolence continued to deny Filipinos a capacity for determining moral human flourishing on their own terms. Instead, any flourishing in the Philippines would be dictated by America. Regarding responsibility, the ethic of realism helps explain how McKinley promoted and justified an expansion of the American nation-state. Once Filipinos were within American borders, McKinley is able to argue that America has a realist-inspired paternal duty to educate, uplift, civilize, and Christianize the “half devil and half child” Filipinos. Finally, regarding rootedness, McKinley remained rooted in the moral superiority of American culture and the ontological eminence of an American lived experience, and particularly of an allegedly racially superior, White settler experience. Through this combination of denied respect, realist inspired paternalistic responsibility, and an ideology rooted in White American superiority, McKinley’s notions of beneficence result in the unchecked bloodthirsty zeal of America’s proselytizing army. Any means, no matter how violent or brutal, are permissible for achieving the beneficent ends that McKinley’s America means to impose.

Conclusion With a cosmopolitan framework as my guide, I have used this chapter to evaluate President William McKinley’s 1898 benevolent assimilation proclamation using the methods of

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Critical Policy Analysis (CPA) and historical analysis. I have argued that McKinley’s proclamation can be understood along three themes: (1) sovereignty, (2) economy, and (3) beneficence. McKinley’s theme of sovereignty emphasized American authority over the Philippine archipelago even as it delegitimized the political agency of the Filipino people. His theme of economy, meanwhile, emphasized individual property rights and short-term profitability and at the expense of social justice, collective rights, and the public good of the Filipino people. Finally, McKinley’s language of beneficence ascribed a racial subalternity to the people of the Philippines even as it justified America’s brutal paternalistic conduct. Ultimately, I have used this chapter to demonstrate how McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation is a policy document fundamentally at odds with a cosmopolitan framework based on the elements of respect, responsibility, and rootedness. In the next chapter, I more explicitly examine how this policy affected U.S. imposed education during the Philippine-American conflict.

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CHAPTER VI: COSMOPOLITANISM AND CONFLICT-RELATED EDUCATION IN THE PHILIPPINES

Though the occupation of the Philippines represents the United States’ earliest and most far-reaching overseas education effort, many scholars argue that this undertaking was neither novel, unique, nor benevolent, but rather the continuation of schooling as an instrument of ongoing American imperialism (Coloma, 2009; Justice, 2009; Miller, 1982; Wesling, 2011). Justice (2009) describes an American education system at the twilight of the 19th century that was particularly adept at separating privileged insiders from subaltern outsiders. The insiders consisted almost entirely of the White, Protestant descendants of Western / Northern European settlers while the outsiders included American people of African, Asian, Pacific Island, Native American, and Mexican heritage. “Enthusiasts of American imperialism [in the Philippines] embraced the logic of education at the end of a gun not as a new concept for a new century, but as the logical conclusion of an American imperial education they already knew” (Justice, 2009, p. 22). This chapter looks at how McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation—and its focus on sovereignty, economy, and beneficence—set the stage for American education efforts that manifest in the further “othering” of the Filipino people. The tools of this educational othering included a racialized curriculum, a racialized teaching force, an emphasis on pupils' economic rather than democratic participation, and instructional reliance on a foreign language that reinforced Filipino subalternity.

Histories of American Imperial Education In one of the earliest North American efforts at imperial education, 17th century Massachusetts Puritan minister John Eliot attempted to educate, Christianize, and Anglicize Native Americans in order to “legitimize Indians as full imperial citizens” (Justice, 2009, p. 30). Eliot’s efforts, however, failed to take into account that the cultural and racial equity of Native Americans would, concurrently, “strip [White] settlers of their power” (Justice, 2009, p. 30), particularly the power to displace the formerly subaltern Native Americans and appropriate their lands. Eliot’s well-meaning but paternalistic and ideologically problematic experiment came to a disastrous end for the participating “red Puritans” as they were met with fierce resistance from established White society insiders; yet the red Puritans were also unprepared–mentally, physically, and spiritually–to return to their native homes (Justice, 2009).

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Army officer and Civil War veteran Richard Henry Pratt would attempt a similar educational approach in the 19th century. Pratt’s influential kill the Indian, save the man strategy advocated for the expanded use of schooling as a means of forced cultural assimilation. With Native Americans facing genocide at the hands of U.S. troops, Pratt advocated a more humane approach: salvation through assimilation. Pratt’s Carlisle Indian Industrial Boarding School, in operation for almost two decades when Americans entered the Philippines, removed Native American children from their families and transported them east in order to civilize them in the ways of White, middle-class, Protestant Americans (Eittreim, 2019). Pratt’s approach demanded that students forsake the teachings of their ancestors and adopt a new “American” identity. Language, manner of dress, hairstyles, and behaviors for pupils were modeled on a White, middle-class, Protestant American ideal. Like Eliot’s “red Puritan” efforts, however, the results of the Carlisle school were often spiritually and psychologically damaged children who, at the end of their schooling experience, were neither accepted by White American society nor fit for Native American ways of living (Eittreim, 2019). Still, as historian Elisabeth Eittreim (2019) notes, the staff of the Carlisle school, by and large, thought that they were doing the right thing and were, for the most part, committed to the “benevolent,” if misguided, idea of civilizing and assimilating the natives. No doubt U.S. leaders in the Philippines, many of whom had also been veterans of America’s numerous Indian Wars, sympathized with Pratt’s approach to subjugating an indigenous population. After seizing Manila, the U.S. Army reflexively assumed control of all city schooling (along with all other aspects of city government). Captain / Father William McKinnon, Chaplain for the First California Volunteers, became the first U.S. superintendent of schools in Manila (McDevitt, 1956). A Roman Catholic priest, McKinnon had spent several years running an orphanage in California before the war, an experience which undoubtedly contributed to his appointment. U.S. soldiers immediately began serving as city schoolteachers and administrators (McDevitt, 1956). Four months later, when McKinley issued his proclamation calling for “the military government heretofore maintained by the United States in the city… of Manila ...to be extended … to the whole of the ceded territory” (sentence 3), the U.S. Army naturally inferred that its system of schooling—established in Manila—would accompany the military government’s expansion.

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Even after the occupation turned to war, American education efforts ran concurrently alongside military campaigns, concentration camps, and torture. “When American units occupied a town…, one of their first actions was to organize a school” (Gates, 1973, p. 136). Evocative of Pratt’s Carlisle School, officials bragged that “Americans know how to deal with disgruntled natives” (Goodenow, 2018, p. 91); the solution of “extinction or education” (Adams, 1995), it seemed, could apply to Filipinos just as it had to Native Americans. “In an all-too- familiar pattern,” Justice (2009) contends, “American imperialists [in the Philippines] offered a public education in the context of a brutal race war” (p. 45). Like Native Americans, Filipinos were not given a choice of their ends—they were to be colonized by the U.S.—but they were allowed some decision as to their means of colonization, either through (often brutal) military subjugation or through culturally obliterating schooling. Within three months of the release of McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, the Army established the Department of Public Instruction for the Philippines and appointed Captain Albert Todd, a career artillery officer, as its superintendent (The Kahimyang Project, n.d.). A competent administrator, Todd collected detailed information on school conditions and made far-reaching recommendations. Within five months, Todd would have over 100,000 pupils enrolled across 1,000 schools (Gates, 1973). Among Todd’s recommendations were that schooling be secular and compulsory, that English be the language of instruction, that American teachers and administrators be brought in to help develop the system, and that funding for education be increased across the board (Gates, 1973). “I can think of no expenditure,” declared Todd, “which will have greater influence in developing peace and progress in these islands than public schools” (“Public schools in the Philippines”, 1901; also cited in Gates, 1973, p. 138; Wesling, 2011, p. 50). Perhaps more importantly for his role, however, Todd understood that the Army employed education as a tool for pacification. Todd would later admit that “the primary goal of the Army’s teaching program was not to educate Filipinos but rather to pacify them by convincing them of US goodwill" (May, 1976, p. 137). American military commanders simply felt that their assigned task of pacification could be more effectively accomplished through schooling than through aggressive military action. As historian, professor, and Filipino activist Renato Constantino (1966) explains

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The American military authorities had a job to do. They had to employ all means to pacify a people whose hopes for independence were being frustrated by the presence of another conqueror. The primary reason for the rapid introduction, on a large scale, of the American public school system in the Philippines was the conviction of the military leaders that no measure could so quickly promote the pacification of the islands as education. (p. 41)

For the U.S. Army, it seemed, the purpose of schooling was civil sedation.

The Thomasites

Per Todd’s recommendations, civilian American schoolteachers and administrators began arriving from the U.S. in 1901 (Angulo, 2012; Malinowski, 2001; Racelis and Ick, 2001). These American educators, or Thomasites as they came to be known (named for the transport ship that carried the bulk of the first arrivals), consisted of volunteers from across the U.S. (Eittreim, 2019; Malinowski, 2001; Racelis & Ick, 2001). Over two-thirds of earliest Thomasites were men, and they were overwhelmingly White (Zimmerman, 2006). A few had previously served as soldiers, but most arrived knowing almost nothing about the Philippines, it’s recent history with Spain, or—thanks to ongoing press suppression—it’s brutal subjugation by American troops. Many Thomasites appear to have been motivated by financial self-interest. Historian A. J. Angulo (2012) notes that hundreds of Thomasites arrived with little to no teaching experience and yet were paid nearly twice that of U.S. educators working domestically. The work of the Thomasites, however, could be demanding and dangerous (Malinowski, 2001). While many were assigned to schools in Manila or co-located with American military camps, others were assigned to isolated outposts. Often, they had to construct and furnish their own schools. Pay (in Mexican pesos—still the recognized currency of the Philippines) was frequently late. Twenty- seven of the earliest arrivals were dead within two years, either from disease or, less frequently, from bandits or insurrectionists. In 1905 the Thomasites peaked at 1,075; by 1940, however, there were less than 100 remaining (Malinowski, 2001).26

26 The most well-known Thomasite is perhaps Carter G. Woodson, the founder of Negro History Week (1926—now Black History Month) and author of The Mis-Education of the Negro (1933). Woodson spent five years as a school supervisor in the Philippines (1903-1907). The literature indicates that little is known of Woodson’s time in the Philippines or how this experience influenced his later scholarship and activism.

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Capturing the sentiment of much of the literature on the Thomasites, Judy Ick (2001) writes that many of these American educators were a complicated mix of “blind ethnocentric” and “admirable idealism.” At the classroom level, Thomasites provided lessons in English, American history, and baseball (among other topics) (Eittreim, 2019; Malinowski, 2001; Racelis & Ick, 2001, Wesling, 2011; Zimmerman, 2006). At the curriculum level, however, these teachers served a more insidious goal of economic and cultural colonization (Coloma, 2009; Constantino, 1966; Eittreim, 2019; Kramer, 2006b; Wesling, 2011). Ostensibly, these educators came to prepare the Filipino people for democratic self-rule (Eittreim, 2019; Malinowski, 2001; Racelis and Ick, 2001), yet few may have understood that their more strategic mission was that of native pacification. For Constantino (1966), the American education efforts of Chaplain McKinnon, Captain Todd, and the later Thomasites were inherently antithetical to any notions of an ultimate Filipino independence. ... from its inception, the [American] educational system of the Philippines was a means of pacifying a people who were defending their newly-won freedom from an invader who had posed as an ally. The education of the Filipino under American sovereignty was an instrument of colonial policy. The Filipino has to be educated as a good colonial. Young minds had to be shaped to conform to American ideas. Indigenous Filipino ideals were slowly eroded in order to remove the last vestiges of resistance. Education served to attract the people to the new masters and at the same time to dilute their nationalism which had just succeeded in overthrowing a foreign power. The introduction of the American educational system was a means of defeating a triumphant nationalism. (p. 42)

If anything, Constantino (1966) argues, the Thomasites used the classroom to completely suppress any Filipino ambition for self-rule. Tools of this suppression included a racialized vocational curriculum and the near exclusive use of English as the language of instruction.

The manual-industrial curriculum.

The school curriculum for Filipino’s would also follow a well-established racialized norm for American education steeped in a manual-industrial instruction. At the end of the 19th century, educational curriculum in America was largely dictated by race (Coloma, 2009; Morgan, 2014). Historian Michelle Morgan (2014) writes that in a country largely driven by Black-White racial distinctions, Asians and Pacific Islanders complicated simplistic racial categorizations. Proper racial classifications, however, as influential colonial administrators

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argued, could help America determine not only what to teach but who was eligible to teach it (Coloma, 2009; Morgan, 2014). As it had been for Native Americans, the Americanization of Asians and Pacific Islanders “required students to shed their culture, adopting both the ideals of democracy and the economic and social behaviors associated with middle-class white America” (Morgan, 2014, p. 167). For adherents of American’s ongoing westward expansion, this Americanizing education was ideally provided by a middle-class White American teacher. Following a familiar model, the settling of the American West relied on the White settler’s military and numerical superiority, and settler communities could draw its teachers from the westward-flowing White settler population. These White middle-class teachers not only taught America, but they also modeled it to their students in a hundred small ways: clothes, hairstyles, language usage, gendered behaviors, and so on. The limits of this model, however, were being put to the test as the United States expanded into the Pacific. It proved unsustainable in Hawai’i, where White settlers would remain a minority population, and largely unimaginable in the much larger and more populated Philippines.27 For an education system that relied on White modeling in the classroom but that lacked a natural White settler population to draw teachers from, the race of the Filipino people then became an important consideration for colonial administrators. This consideration was largely informed by—or rather misinformed by—eugenics and racial pseudo-science and at the turn of the 20th century. Thanks largely to the work of Dean Conant Worcester, a respected zoologist, a colonial administrator, and a member of the Philippines Commission (both the Schurman and the Taft Commissions), the Filipino people would largely come to be racially categorized as negro (Coloma, 2009; Wesling, 2011). This categorization, as Roland Sintos Coloma (2009) explains, “consequently, set into motion colonial policy and curriculum in the Philippines that derived from the schooling of African Americans in the U.S. South” (p. 506). Devoid of a requisite population from which teachers might be drawn, instead White, middle-class teachers would necessarily be imported from America, hence the hiring of the Thomasites.28 Moreover, as

27 For comparison, the landmass of the Philippines is 18 times that of Hawai’i. The Philippines has over 2000 inhabited islands while Hawai’i has eight. Moreover, the population of the Philippines at the turn of the 20th century was almost 50 times that of Hawai’i. 28 Granted, not all Thomasites were White. The few non-White Thomasites, however, arguably also played an insidious role in colonization by modeling expected behaviors for a minoritized people living within a larger, racially White, American empire.

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negros, Filipinos would be given an education that emphasized the “dignity of labor” (Coloma, 2009) rather than a liberal / emancipatory education that would prepare them for democracy, independence, and self-rule (Constantino, 1966). At the turn of the 20th century, manual-industrial education was “in vogue” (May, 1976, p. 149) and thousands of schools across America offered some sort of industrial education to their students. American colonial administrators didn’t need to look broadly at American manual-industrial education models, however. Given the racial categorization of the Filipino, they focused exclusively on the negro education models of the Hampton and Tuskegee Institutes. Founded in 1869 by Samuel Chapman Armstrong, the child of American missionaries, a Civil War commander of U.S. Colored Troops, and a member of the post-war Freedmen's Bureau (Hampton University, n.d.), the Hampton Institute had been operating for nearly thirty years when America entered the Philippines. Encapsulating the complex mix of “blind ethnocentric” and “admirable idealism” (Ick, 2001, p. 263) of many educators and social reformers of the time, Armstrong advocated that “that industrial education was particularly beneficial for ‘backward’ and ‘dependent’ races” (May, 1976, p. 149) such as the negro. The Hampton Institute’s star pupil, Booker Taliaferro Washington, would go on to promote and continue Armstrong’s education model at Alabama’s Tuskegee Institute (founded 1881). In his influential 1895 “Atlanta Compromise'' speech, Washington would capture the essence of the negro manual- industrial education system as he “urged African Americans to forgo political rights and social equality and focus instead on industrial education and economic advancement” (Perdue, 2010, p. 8).29 Economy and commercial opportunity—that largely served White interests—would necessarily take priority over Black political equality. May (1976) writes that “white Americans found [Washington’s] industrial education for blacks appealing ... because it seemed to relegate blacks to an inferior position” (p. 149). Well received by a White American audience, Washington’s educational philosophy for Blacks in the American South would come to inform U.S. education policy in the Philippines as well (Coloma, 2009).

29 A contemporary of Washington’s and a tireless advocate of equal educational opportunities for Blacks and women, the American educator Anna Julia Cooper (1938/1998) would later write that Washington’s 1895 Atlanta compromise made him “a colored leader of white American thought” (p. 259).

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In preparation for his role as the Educational Bureau’s first civilian Superintendent, Fred Atkinson, formerly the principal of a Massachusetts high school, toured both Hampton and Tuskegee. Taken by their education models, in a report to the Philippine Commission, Atkinson wrote that these models would be adopted for the Philippines: … the Filipinos may be taught those things for which they have a capacity, i.e., industrial and mechanical pursuits, there should be established throughout the Philippine Islands schools of agriculture. It will be necessary to send to our agricultural colleges for instructors… These instructors should follow the plans of work of Hampton and Tuskegee. (cited in May, 1976, p. 148)

Superintendent Atkinson was not the only one with a penchant for adopting negro industrial education; even the brother of America’s first civilian Governor-General in the Philippines, William Howard Taft (later U.S. President Taft), would recommend Washington’s education model to his sibling, If you have a chance to read [Booker T. Washington’s writings] you would better do so [sic] .... He must be a rare man. Won't you go in for industrial education in the Philippines? Certainly there is no other education for a race like the Negroes that compares with that in its effect upon character and race deficiency. (Horace Taft, 1901, cited in May, 1976, p. 149)

Moreover, manual-industrial education suited the emerging political and economic model of the Philippines, which favored large plantations controlled by the hacienda Dons while relegating the peasantry to the role of tenant farmers and plantation laborers. Seemingly, then, without much initial debate or controversy, racial classifications came to determine the curriculum of the American led schools in the Philippines. Manual-industrial curricula in the Philippines thus became favored over a more emancipatory curricula because it was an education appropriate for a purported backward, inferior, dependent, and deficient race; an inherently problematic view that that the McKinley’s administration (and subsequent American administrations) took as self- evidently true of the Filipinos (Coloma, 2009; May, 1976; Paulet, 2007). David Prescot Barrows, the Education Bureau’s third civilian Superintendent (later President of the University of California), resisted this manual-industrial education model for a time. Rather than create a nation of perpetual tenancy, Barrows argued that the public school system should instead “emphasize skills necessary for defense against exploitation” (Angelo, 2012, p. 25). The idealistic, if paternalistic, Barrows advocated education as the means by which poor Filipinos would be liberated from economic elites to become the masters of their own

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destiny (Barrows, 1910). Despite resistance from both U.S. colonial administrators and local Filipino elites, Barrows was in fact able to briefly exchange the negro manual-industrial curriculum for one designed to develop what he called “peasant proprietors” (Ventura, 2016, p. 475). Sharply rebuking the elitist and exploitative nature of European-style colonialism, Barrows argued that any moral legitimacy in American imperialism was realized in establishing an education system that led to a democratic society. Wrote Burrows (1910) “Industrial progress, triumph over plague, general well-being—all these (though with immense difficulty) might be realized without education, but moral and political leadership, never” (p. 164). Barrows’ efforts, however, were obstructed by an impatient and profit-oriented American administration that would reject his educational reforms just as it had abandoned land redistribution efforts. Given the colonial administration’s funding crisis (created by protectionist tariffs and a lack of projected investment—discussed in the previous chapter) and the colonial administration’s penchant for negro manual-industrial education models, the funds that had been earmarked for Barrows’ liberatory education programs were instead diverted to infrastructure development. Barrows lamented that what U.S. colonial administrators really wanted was not a politically independent Philippines, but a “robust program of road-building, port-building, and other public works projects” (Angelo, 2012, p. 27). Barrows’ relief, Superintendent Frank R. White, would eventually overturn all of Barrows’ efforts and institute what May (1976) calls “the triumph of industrial education” (p. 171).30

English as the language of instruction.

The use of English as the language of instruction also reinforced American superiority and Filipino subalternity. The Schurman Commission (i.e., the First Philippines Commission) had set the stage by recommending the “immediate and complete dominance of English in the new colonial state” (Wesling, 2011, p. 49). “English can within a short time” the commission reported “be made the official language of the archipelago” (Wesling, 2011, p. 49). As with many of its recommendations, however, the commission’s conclusions might have been written

30 Carter G. Woodson’s service in the Philippines coincided with Barrows’ tenure as superintendent. The literature leaves one to speculate on how Barrows’ resistance to negro education models in the Philippines might have influenced Woodson’s thinking in later years, or conversely, how a young Woodson might have influenced Barrows’ approach to the Philippines. The topic seems ripe for further research.

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without making the trip. Arriving amid ongoing hostilities in January 1899, General Otis deemed it unsafe for commission members to leave Manila, and so they necessarily relied on interviews conducted within the city. This meant excluding the voices of nationalist minded Filipinos (i.e., the vast majority of the population) and instead speaking with “Filipino men of position and property who were unanimous in asking Uncle Sam to annex the islands” (Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 255). Composed of American pro-expansionists including Charles Denby (former U.S. minister to China) and Dean C. Worcester (who would racially classify the Filipino people as negro), the commission declared that “The supremacy of the United States must and will be enforced throughout every part of the Archipelago” (Schurman Commission Report cited in Wolff, 1960/2006, p. 255). Establishing English as the official language would reinforce that goal. Captain / Superintendent Todd astutely fell in line with the commission’s recommendation for English language instruction by making it his own. Moreover, Todd tied English language instruction and its potential to promote democracy (a nod toward McKinley’s beneficent assimilation proclimation) to the administration’s actual goal of Filipino pacification: Pointing at once to the dangerous nature of colonial guardianship—the potential for “distrusts and misunderstandings”—Todd suggested that a common language would unite ruler and ruled into common goals and understandings. He hinted as well at the potentially ameliorative quality of English as the language of democracy—an association … increasingly insisted upon by American colonial officials in the Philippines. (Wesling, 2011, p. 50).

Todd’s phrasing of “unification of ruler and ruled” rhetorically signaled a contrast between the self-proclaimed “democratic” and “beneficent” methods of American colonialism and the harsher colonial methods the Europeans, who taught their mother tongue only to a local governing elite class (May, 1976; Wesling, 2011). American administrators maintained that the Philippines would become more democratic as students from all backgrounds (and not just the elites) were given equal access to the American language (May, 1976; Wesling, 2011). Building on the commission’s recommendation, additional American colonial administrators created numerous justifications for English instruction. In addition to being democratizing, it would also, they claimed, be moralizing, civilizing, and Americanizing. Furthermore, it would be of practical benefit for the English-speaking American administrators

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(Wesling, 2011, p. 52). President McKinley would also bolster English language instruction by claiming it as a means for achieving his economic ends: In view of the great number of languages spoken by the different tribes, it is especially important to the prosperity of the Islands that a common medium of communication may be established, and it is obviously desirable that this medium should be the English language. (McKinley, cited in Wesling, 2011, p. 51).

What it was that made English “obviously desirable” was apparently self-evident as the monolingual McKinley failed to expand on this point. Regardless, a single language, administrators agreed, could be used to unify the eighty-four separate tribes and dialects of the archipelago—and this lack of unity was a largely unexamined yet taken-for-granted manifestation of the Filipinos’ backwardness, uncivilized nature, and unfitness for self-rule (Wesling, 2011). The idea that an English language curriculum could Americanize pupils reached new heights at the end of the 19th century. In 1894 a newly established “American” literary canon shifted the focus of U.S. domestic literature from European and classical works to those conveying a highly selective “version of American culture and identity” (Wesling, 2011). As Meg Wesling (2011) explains, this new American canon “aimed to form an implicit national identity through the inculcation of an exceptionalist story of American history, as cast into relief through short stories, [and] tales of ‘great men,’ ...” (p. 55). The release of this canon was indeed serendipitous for educators who were charged with Americanizing pupils but who lacked an accompanying (and role-modeling) American population to assist with this socialization. English [literature instruction] carried with it the moral and ideological burdens of true Americanism—the seamless connection between language, race, and culture intended to inspire Filipinos’ moral uplift and secure their submission to the righteousness of American sovereignty. (Wesling, 2011, p. 59)

As if created specifically for use in the Philippines, America’s new English literary canon would be used to form a civil, moral, and American identity for the Filipino student. Captain / Superintendent Todd’s civilian successors would continue to advocate the use of English as a means of Americanization. Todd’s immediate replacement, Superintendent Fred Atkinson, would codify English instruction in the 1901 passage of Act 74, which stated (among other things) that “the English language shall, as soon as practicable, be made the basis of all public school instruction” (cited in Wesling, 2011, p. 51). Even the later reform / educatory

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minded Superintendent David Barrows would testify that English instruction would create “a large class, ‘universally distributed,’ of Filipinos who would have internalized American beliefs, values, and customs” (Wesling, 2011, p. 139). The English language instruction requirement, however, proved to be wildly impracticable. Few Filipinos had ever even heard, let alone spoken, English, and a lack of qualified English teachers would continually plague the program. Spanish had been the language of education in the Philippines for generations, but even then—in stereotypical European colonial fashion—only a small, elite portion of the local population spoke it. Even the importation of a thousand American educators would have little overall effect on the English instruction of a country of over 7 million people spread across 2,000 inhabited islands. Decades later, a 1925 Monroe Commission report would confirm that, despite a great deal of American rhetoric, activity, and policy pronouncements, English instruction in the Philippines had largely come to naught. .. in the great body of Filipino schools the present methods of teaching reading are so deficient that children have so little facility in reading English on leaving school that there is little guarantee of a functional control over the language in adult life. (Monroe Report, 1925, cited in May, 1976, p. 182)

Though Filipino students might not have been able to demonstrate proficiency in Webster’s English, in strategic terms, America’s English language curriculum did what colonial education [writ large] has always sought to do: reinforce the privilege of the colonizer (Altbach & Kelly, 1978; Constantino; 1966; Wesling, 2011). Wesling (2011) notes that American justifications of practicality were “quickly revealed as an ideological construction in which English was necessary to bolster the presumed superiority of Anglo-American culture” (p. 52). American textbooks, for instance, gave Filipinos an especially selective narrative of the U.S.’s interactions with Native American tribes. Relocation and genocide was presented as “a process through which ‘barbarous tribes had been subjugated and brought into touch with the benefits of civilization'...” (Wesling, 2011, p. 54). Filipino pupils were thus taught that civilization—via American beneficence—was now being beneficently extended to them despite their own barbarous tribalism. Specifically targeting potential Filipino nationalist sentiments, early American textbooks would overlook the United States own political origins to convey that “full civil liberty cannot be granted to a people who have had little or no experience in exercising such powers or enjoying such privileges and who are some-times in revolt” (cited in Wesling, 2011, p.

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54). Incoherently, Filipino pupils were instructed that their submission to America was a necessary prerequisite to their greater agency and self-determination.

Cosmopolitanism in Education I close this chapter by again reflecting on how the American imposed education system in the Philippines informs an understanding of my three components of cosmopolitanism: respect, responsibility, and rootedness (from chapter four). Again, we see a familiar pattern initiated by McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation: a lack of respect, a distorted sense of responsibility that manifests as paternalism, and an America rooted both in ideology and in profit. As a top-level governing policy document, McKinley’s proclamation did not set specific education policies, but it was largely responsible for creating the environment in which important education policies would come to exist. Its emphasis on sovereignty denied Filipino agency with which local citizens could meaningfully participate in the creation and operation of their education system. Its emphasis on economy drove an education system that prioritized the efficiency and profitability of plantation labor. And its lip service to benevolence promoted an idea of democracy without creating the conditions in which a unique Filipino-styled democracy might take root. Regarding respect, English language instruction and nineteenth century racial pseudo- science reinforced a lack of respect and subalternity for the Filipino people. This lack of respect, combined with paternalistic responsibility and ideological rootedness, justified the missionary- like colonialism of American education. As racialized subalterns, not only were Filipinos deemed unfit to govern themselves, but they were also seen as racially unqualified to even teach their own children. Real teachers, i.e., the American education missionary Thomasites, were brought over to fill this dearth of proper instructors. Additionally, a curriculum deemed appropriate for racial subalterns informed the Thomasites' instruction. Following the familiar education patterns that had denied full citizenry, political determination, and respect to Native Americans in the West and Black Americans in the South, American education for Filipinos ultimately demanded the subaltern pupil’s physical, mental, and spiritual subjugation. Regarding responsibility, in one sense, the education system that America established in the Philippines might be seen as a realization of American responsibility: envisioning ends and enacting means to fulfill a moral obligation to the Other. Extending literacy, numeracy, and

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scientific understanding is surely a worthy realization of one’s moral obligations. In the Philippines, however, American responsibility was founded on a misplaced sense of obligation. In their classic treatise, Education and Colonization, Philip Altbach and Gail Kelly (1978) write that “colonialism in education involves education controlled from without for the aims and profit of a foreigner rather than for the nation.” McKinley’s proclamation, then, established that Filipino education would serve the American economy (i.e., Altbach & Kelly’s foreigner), and any responsibility to the Filipino people (i.e., Altbach & Kelly’s nation) was incidental to their participation in that economy. Filipinos could receive a manual-industrial education curriculum, but the purpose of that education was to improve the efficiency and profitability of plantation labor in the interest of the American economy. Rather than using education as a means for assisting Filipinos to achieve their own self-realized ideas of moral flourishing, McKinley instead established education as a tool for improving the Filipino’s ability to advance America’s own self-interested colonial interventions. Regarding rootedness, we find an American education system that ideologically promoted its own moral superiority. Rather than being rooted in cosmopolitan values that would create the conditions for moral flourishing within the American nation-state while also ensuring that America promoted flourishing beyond its own borders, McKinley instead roots America in economic efficiency, profitability, and conformity with White settler norms. Given the inherent ideological superiority that McKinley extends to the American lived experience, the language, civics, and history of the Philippines will now be American in nature as well, celebrating America’s historical social narrative of individual liberty, economic prosperity, and benevolent westward expansion. Given McKinley’s paternalistic and ideological mission to educate the subaltern Filipino people for America’s interest, the accompanying culture of schooling that followed was, as we have seen, especially prone to realizing schooling as violence and harm to Filipino self- determination and agency. Constantino (1966) provides a particularly sharp criticism of who the Filipino people would become under American tutelage: Unfortunately for us [the Filipino people], the success of education as a colonial weapon was complete and permanent. In exchange for a smattering of English, we yielded our souls.. […] a genuinely Filipino education could not have been devised within the new framework, for to draw from the well-springs of the Filipino ethos would only have led to a distinct Philippine identity with interests at variance with that of the ruling power. [...] The pathetic results ... is a citizen amazingly naive and trusting in its

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relations with foreigners, devoid of the capacity to feel indignation even in the face of insults to the nation, ready to acquiesce and even to help aliens in the despoliation of our national wealth. [...] The emphasis in our study of history has been on the great gifts that our conquerors have bestowed upon us. A mask of benevolence was used to hide the cruelties and deceit of early American occupation. [...] Nurtured in this kind of education, the Filipino mind has come to regard centuries of colonial status as a grace from above rather than a scourge. [...] We were not taught to view them objectively, seeing their virtues as well as their faults. This led our citizens to form a distorted opinion of the foreign masters and also of themselves. (pp. 44-65, emphasis mine)

Colonial education, write Altbach and Kelly (1978), is marked by a system in which “the colonizer rather than the colonized holds the power for purposes the colonizer defines” (p. 2). It is McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation that, from its opening line, creates an environment for education that will be dictated by the American government and largely devoid of Filipino input. By actively repressing the history, the political will, and the agency of the Filipino Other, McKinley set the stage for the most uncosmopolitan of education systems in the Philippines. Despite its promise of democratic self-government, American education efforts in the Philippines came to follow a time-tested American system of suppressing or eliminating indigenous culture, of racially separating students into educational tracts, and of creating uncritically patriotic subjects while simultaneously failing to prepare them for self-government (Angelo, 2012; Coloma, 2004, 2009; Constantino, 1966; Stratton, 2016, Wesling, 2011).

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CHAPTER VII: CONCLUSIONS

In my concluding chapter, I consider how the history of the Philippine-American conflict and the ideals of cosmopolitanism might help future actors to realize more cosmopolitanism approaches in future conflict-related education settings. Turning a cosmopolitan lens to McKinley’s proclamation, one may ask what might have been different? How might this formative policy document have approached the Philippines from a more cosmopolitan perspective? My conclusions consider the cosmopolitanism requirement of conversation, the necessary yet difficult requirement of addressing land usage and land reform, the cosmopolitan promise of Restivo’s third culture, the need for honest brokers in cosmopolitan conversation, America’s ongoing struggle for its rootedness, and the political spectacle of education as beneficence. Finally, I briefly address how this dissertation answered the three original questions that I assigned to this research.

Cosmopolitanism and Conversation Kwame Anthony Appiah argues that the first tool of cosmopolitanism is conversation. As Appiah explains “cosmopolitanism commits you to a global conversation, or a set of global conversations, about the things that matter” (cited in Yates, 2009, p. 43). “One of the hopes for a world in which cosmopolitan conversations are taking place is certainly that the conflict that arises out of misunderstanding will be reduced” (Appiah, cited in Yates, 2009, p. 44). Appiah expands on the importance of conversation: … the conversation metaphor is important because the chances of being able to change something depend hugely on how well you understand what it is you’re trying to change. It’s very unhelpful to come into a place in a way that shows you don’t even understand what it is that you’re criticizing. If you seem like you’re mischaracterizing the situation, you won’t be taken seriously as a critic and interlocutor, and this is not merely a theoretical possibility. (cited in Yates, 2009, p. 47)

Applying Appiah’s ideas to my proposed cosmopolitan framework, it follows that the elements of cosmopolitanism (respect, responsibility, and rootedness) can never be realized if conversation is denied. Cosmopolitan respect for the Other is not established because we do not get to know the Other. Cosmopolitan responsibility is never achieved because we do not understand the Other enough to know what ends we can work toward or what means we can use

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to achieve those ends. Moreover, conversation cannot simply be an exercise in civility, allowing the Other to talk without really listening, for such performative demonstrations potentially lead us nowhere. Rather conversation is a method that must be rooted in our own best customs, traditions, and manifestations of society. In the Philippine-American conflict, then a first step in promoting a more cosmopolitan approach is to include Filipino representatives in the discussions about the fate of the Philippine archipelago. Simply put, cosmopolitan ideals are advanced by providing a seat at the table. Conversation recognizes the Philippines as more than an object for exploitation but as home to a people with agency and the basic human right of self- determination. This is not to say that conversation is a panacea, but simply that it is a valuable and irreplaceable means of realizing cosmopolitanism. Appiah (2006) advises that we should never expect agreement to come from conversation. Conversation is not about coming to similar conclusions, and harmony should never be anticipated as an outcome. Rather conversation is about getting to know each other, and, in doing so, finding a common ground to work from (Appiah, 2006; Yates, 2009). Conversation is not about changing the mind of the Other, but about “living together, association” (Appiah, 2006, p. xix). As Appiah explains .... if in the course of conversation, you come across a disagreement, and you talk it through, sometimes its importance is reduced somewhat by the discovery that someone you like and with whom you are in conversation has a different view. That’s one of the ways human beings adjust to one another—not by changing our minds, but by giving less weight to something because we’re in dialogue with someone. (cited in Yates, 2009, p. 44)

Those inclined toward cosmopolitanism should not, however, look past problems inherent to cosmopolitan-inspired conversation. For instance, how do we know we are actually in a conversation that advances cosmopolitan ideals such as human flourishing and social justice? In the case of diplomacy, how do we know if the diplomatic representatives that we are dealing with are truly representative, in the Kantian sense, of the people for whom they claim to represent? Or instead, are these diplomats promoting a narrow agenda that reinforces unjust systems of power and privilege (as may be the case in systems of uncritical internationalism or restrictive multiculturalism)? After all, many nations have thrown off the shackles of colonization only to find themselves ruled by local postcolonial despots who continue the oppression of their populations while strengthening their own personal power (Altbach & Kelly,

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1978). While all sides in a diplomatic conversation have a role to play here, I argue that the bulk of this responsibility lay with the dominant power (i.e., those with the majority of resources at their disposal and hence the greater ability to resource / fund / shape discussions) to ensure that representative voices are included as best they can be. Even better, a sense of cosmopolitan justice demands that the least privileged receive special consideration: demanding the representation of people who have been minoritized by race, religion, sex, sexuality, gendered expression, and other historic discriminations. Cosmopolitan ethics necessarily work to include these voices. Still, no conversation is utopian, and one must consider the benefits of limited / incomplete representation against the possibility of no representation, and hence, no conversation at all. Appiah’s cosmopolitan approach also rejects violence as a justification for conquest. Cosmopolitanism cannot justify the transfer of sovereignty through military defeat. Instead, in the case of the Philippine-American conflict cosmopolitanism demands recognition of the basic humanity of the Filipino people, a people of inherent value and with lived experiences on par with those of Spaniards and Americans. A conversation is the beginning of acknowledging that inherent value. This does not mean, however, that cosmopolitanism is inherently anti-military or anti-police. A critical cosmopolitan imagination must also consider the limits of conversation. In cases of genocide, mob rioting, looting, or other violence, the conversation has essentially ended. A cosmopolitan role of the military and / or police in such instances is to restore conditions where conversation can continue (Appiah, 2006). That is to say that the military and police have an important role to play in ensuring and (if necessary) restoring cosmopolitan possibilities. That said, and as I have attempted to demonstrate in the previous chapters, the governing policy document of McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation set a tone that undermined the possibilities for cosmopolitan conversation. McKinley’s theme of sovereignty set a tone that rejected all agency except that of America, so that the only voice worthy of recognition was that of the United States government. McKinley’s theme of economy dismissed all voices except those that advocated American economy prosperity regardless of the cost extracted from the people of the Philippines. And McKinley’s theme of beneficence provided Americans with an uncritical monological viewpoint that falsely informed them that America was on the side of righteousness in suppressing Filipino will. A different America, an America rooted to the

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possibilities that stem from conversation with the Other, would surely have found a very different approach and, specifically, a more insightful governing policy document than McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation proved to be. In turn, it seems likely that education in the Philippines would have also taken a drastically different direction: one that sought to celebrate and realize Filipino culture and aspirations rather than only those of McKinley’s America.

Cosmopolitanism: Responsibility and Land Reform Cosmopolitan responsibility has long been associated with wealth redistribution, often in the form of private philanthropic programs and international foreign aid (Kleingeld & Brown, 2019; Papastephanou, 2012). A historical analysis of the Philippine-American conflict, however, helps to shift the discussion of cosmopolitan responsibility away from the issue of charity and toward the more fundamental cosmopolitan issue of land. If we consider cosmopolitanism as a commitment to social justice, human dignity, and political agency, and if we recognize that those commitments are intrinsically tied to land in forms of ownership, residency, citizenship, wealth generation, and resource distribution, then the socially just use of land (i.e., land reform) becomes a central component to realizing cosmopolitan responsibility. For Filipino nationalists, an imperialistic land grab by the Spanish monarchy, working in conjunction with the Catholic church, constituted their colonizer’s original sin. This sin was the theft of land, complexly intertwined with a failure to respect the dignity of the indigenous population, a violent and paternalistic impression of an external culture and religion, and an arrogant partiality for the colonizer’s lived experience. That McKinley’s America, which positioned its worldview as superior to all, injected itself into this contest for land, speaks volumes about the nation’s hubris and willful disregard for the Other. That American administrators not only failed to alleviate the original sin of land theft, but, if fact, exacerbated it, leaves one to wonder how education might play a role in resolving imperialistic land-ownership issues. Of American colonial officials, Superintendent David Barrows comes closest to realizing any sense of cosmopolitanism in this regard. In his attempt to create “peasant proprietors,” Barrows’ educational efforts purported to allow poor, disenfranchised Filipinos an opportunity for political and economic flourishing (and accompanying moral flourishing) by associating his

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students' education with land usage. That said, Barrows inherent Americanizing paternalism left him well short of fully realizing cosmopolitanism goals; so while Barrows did advocate for an educatory curriculum with the end goal of a self-governing democracy within an overall more economically just society, he still viewed this goal through an American-tinted paternalistic lens. Just as his curriculum focused on an English language that few Filipinos spoke, Barrows’ terms for political and economic success were centered on American social foundations that simply didn’t apply in the Philippines (those American social foundations, it should be noted, were themselves “riddled with corruption, racism and appalling economic disparities” (Karnow, 1989, p. 19)). Cosmopolitanism in education then must necessarily ask students to consider the moral and just usages and distributions of land, as well as the historical entanglements associated with land. This is not an esoteric argument, but a question for almost every human living today of how to more morally occupy the land we currently inhabit given its complex and often unjust history. Cosmopolitan responsibility recognizes that our moral obligations to others are historically, and perhaps irresolvably, entangled in land acquisition, land usage, land-based wealth generation, and land-derived political agency (Papastephanou, 2012). Even as one addresses these sticky issues, though, I contend that as an ethical orientation cosmopolitanism is more postcolonial than decolonial in its outlook. By this, I mean to say that cosmopolitanism focuses not whose ancestors were in the right or wrong (though these are important, if sometimes complex and unanswerable, questions), but rather how we can now more peacefully, more morally, and more justly inhabit a plot of land given that land’s challenging history. Cosmopolitanism then is more than being rooted in cultures that extend respect and responsibility to distal Others in remote lands; it is also being rooted in a culture that asks how we realize a better sense of justice with the proximal Other with whom we share a land. Distal or proximal, cosmopolitanism in education then explores how we more peacefully (promoting social justice and human flourishing) move forward together given our shared and complicated history. An education that is oriented around such an approach has, I believe, value everywhere but is especially pertinent in conflict-related settings. Cosmopolitanism education necessarily engages students from all sides of the conflict in how to enact justice given their present unjust, and perhaps irresolvable, conditions. Cosmopolitanism does not strive for a return to an imagined decolonized utopian past, nor does it compel students to seek a decolonized cultural or

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ethical purity, rather a cosmopolitan oriented education is forward oriented with an eye on creating an environment that promotes the just moral flourishing of all now involved. The socially just use of land is necessarily at the center of that educational exploration.

Cosmopolitanism: Respect and Third Culture During the Filipino Insurrection with Spain, the controlling Catholic friars unwittingly created a unifying revolutionary martyr by executing the popular Filipino nationalist Jose Rizal. A Spanish trained Filipino physician, Rizal had drawn the attention of the friars for years with his popular novels that highlighted the friar’s corrupt and abusive practices. As Luis Francia (2014) explains, Rizal’s anti-colonial novels “laid the groundwork of [Filipino] national consciousness” (p. 47). Though today Rizal’s work receives little attention outside of the Philippines itself, his efforts preceded by decades the political independence movement of Mahatmas Gandhi as well as the decolonial psychoanalysis of Franz Fanon. Historian Benedict Anderson characterizes Rizal’s 1891 novel El Filibusterismo (The Subversive) as the “first incendiary anticolonial novel written by a colonial subject outside of Europe” (cited in Francia, 2014, p.59). As Francia (2014) explains, Rizal’s novels “zeroed in on the moral rot infecting colonial society, exemplified by state-sponsored cruelty, friar abuse, greed, and betrayal of their sacred vows” (p. 47). Perhaps unsurprisingly, once the Filipino Insurrection broke out in 1896, Rizal was arrested, found guilty of treason, and executed (Francia, 2014). His execution, however, only served to fuel nationalist resolve. At the age of 35, Rizal became a unifying martyr for Filipino nationalism. Known in death as the “First Filipino,” the Great Malayan” and “the Tagalog Christ,” Francia (2014) notes that “Rizal’s martyrdom only intensified the … fight for independence from Spain” (p. 54). Though it seems unlikely that Rizal would have characterized his novels as an exercise in cosmopolitanism, I argue that they contain an undeniable rooted cosmopolitan orientation that Spain or America could have used to better understand the aspirations of the Filipino people. Rizal grounded his writings in the cosmopolitan concerns of respect for the people of the Philippines and of the responsibility for improving local conditions. His work strengthened calls for respect by giving a voice, in the form of a relatable story, to the social injustices occurring in the Philippines. Moreover, he appealed to the moral rootedness of Spain and the Catholic church so that they might take a cosmopolitan-oriented responsibility for their own actions. This

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responsibility would come, not simply because Filipinos demanded it, but, because Spain and the Church experienced, though an examination of their own rootedness, an inherent moral responsibility to the Filipino Other. Such an ethical transformation or “metamorphosis” (Hansen, 2011, p. 72) would unveil a cosmopolitan responsibility that had always existed, but to which Spain and the Church had hitherto been blind. In examining novelistic enactments of cosmopolitanism such as Rizal’s, David Hansen (2011) asks “on what basis can one meaningfully deploy another person’s or culture’s viewpoint to criticize one’s own, or use one’s own to criticize those of others?” (p. 72). When does an outsider get to offer “incisive, right-to-the-nub insights about another … community”? (Hansen, 2011, p. 72). Hansen (2011) answers by claiming that this basis is ever dynamic. While I agree with Hansen’s call for flexibility, I have also argued that a cosmopolitan evaluative-respect for cultures and traditions is appropriate when grounded in an examination of social justice, agency, and moral human flourishing (see chapter four). In any case, the Filipino people (with Rizal as a spokesperson) had surely earned (or at least endured) the right to critique Spain and the Catholic church. Given hundreds of years of Spanish occupation, a widely imposed / adopted religion, and (specific to Rizal) extensive personal study and training in Spain, Rizal himself surely embodied, as well as anyone possibly could, a position that was “highly-justified” to offer cosmopolitan critique to the hegemonic occupier of his local. Rizal dedicated El Filibusterismo to three Filipino priests executed by Spain in 1872 for their alleged participation in a mutiny. “I have the right to dedicate my work to you as victims of the evil which I undertake to combat [...] let these pages serve as a tardy wreath of dried leaves over your unknown tombs” (Rizal, 1891/2013, p. 3). Yet even as Rizal combated this “evil” through his novels, he never called for an armed uprising or, for that matter, Philippine independence. Instead, Rizal sought a much more fundamental respect from the once foreign traditions and cultures that were now inextricably intertwined with Filipino society. After centuries of colonization, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to imagine the Philippines without Spanish and Catholic influence.31 An impossibly complex ideal of decolonization in this case then necessarily gives way to a more ameliorative notion of postcolonization. Rather than focusing on decolonization’s unanswerable question of “what am I

31 Note: Though Rizal focused on the Catholic church, it is worth noting that Islamic and animist traditions also dominate wide regions of the Philippines.

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without you,” postcolonialism instead focuses on what I believe is the more productive, more restorative, and infinitely more cosmopolitan question of “what am I with you?” This question demands an answer grounded in respect for the Other. Filipinos cannot be lesser Spaniards, minor Americans, imitation Catholics, or Fanonian social climbing parrots (whatever the context). Yet neither can they erase the influences brought about by colonization. To be Filipino without Spanish influence or without the Catholic church is (for many) to be not Filipino at all. Yet these same people must be respected as Filipinos in their own right—a cosmopolitan amalgamation of cultures, traditions, perspectives, religions, ethnicities, and ancestries that have come together in unpredictable ways to form a cosmopolitan inheritance that the world had never beheld. Rizal’s Philippines embodies Restivo’s cosmopolitanism as a “third culture” that is at least equal to the cultures from which it originated. Any subsequent education system then should explore and celebrate this cultural uniqueness even as it continues to critically advance the society's capacity to promote individual human flourishing within it (first) and beyond it (eventually). Upon what cosmopolitan basis, then, could America enter this third culture? In one regard, no invitation is required as a Restivo’s third culture is always in creation. As (heuristically) two peoples inhabiting the world, American and Filipino interactions are to be expected, and the exchanges will transform all involved, however minutely. From another aspect, however, an ethical cosmopolitan approach involves transforming American’s self- serving come-over-and-help-us narrative for one that was open to the Philippines as a fully realized third culture. That is, open to a people neither Spanish nor American but worthy of respect in their own right and certainly not requiring domination from without. Previously I argued that Filipinos had clearly communicated their aspirations for self-determination in the Philippine Declaration of Independence. Similarly, an informed cosmopolitan American involvement with the Philippines required a knowledge of Rizal’s writings as he, like no other, gave voice to the local lived experience. America needed to be open to the voice of the Other that Rizal so eloquently provided.

Cosmopolitan Conversation and the Honest Broker Almost all literature regarding cosmopolitanism conversations implicitly assumes an honest broker approach. That is to say that cosmopolitanism assumes that one enters into

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Appiah-inspired conversations with Others honestly, fairly, and without subterfuge. Similarly, one expects the same from the cosmopolitan Other with which they dialogue. Through such honest exchanges one presents themselves as rooted in noble traditions and through such genuine exchanges one learns to respect the noble foundations of the Other. Moreover, it is through such forthright and open conversations that both parties hope to reach truly cosmopolitan outcomes that are informed by respect, responsibility, and rootedness. In previous chapters I have argued that respect, responsibility, and rootedness are necessary elements in creating cosmopolitan conditions—whether at a personal or a political level. The negative corollary of this argument, however, is that conversations lacking these elements are, by contrast, anti-cosmopolitan in nature. It follows then that if one presents themself honestly (keeping with the best of the cosmopolitan tradition) but finds that the Other with which they are dealing lacks respect, responsibility, or rootedness, then perhaps the cosmopolitan-minded party is no longer bound to continue the conversation. The literature on the limits of cosmopolitan engagement largely leaves the idea of an assumed honesty unexplored. Appiah (2006; also cited in Yates, 2009) suggests that the point of conversations with Others serves the purpose of getting used to each other so that we may intelligently converse when and if substantial issues arise. However, if cosmopolitan means (such as honesty) are not being realized in these conversations, does the tradition compel these conversations to continue? I argue that it does not. By not meeting fundamental cosmopolitan conditions one neither grows personally (for there is no genuine Other to grow towards) nor does one come to understand the Other better, except perhaps in their ignorance or deceit (for the Other does not, or cannot, present themselves honestly). Encountering such an Other, it is then incumbent upon the cosmopolitan-motivated actor to move on. By this, I mean seeking out a different Other, an Other who shares a commitment to creating cosmopolitan conditions. This second Other (the other-Other) may come from the same background as the first but meets one with a cosmopolitan disposition. This does not mean exchanging a difficult Other for a more agreeable Other, but it does mean finding an Other with whom we share certain commitments, namely (1) a respect of Others who may be grounded in different value systems, (2) an empathetic sense of responsibility to the Other, and (3) one who is a rooted to realizing justice and moral flourishing within their own traditions, culture(s), and society.

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Using the Philippine-American conflict to examine this idea, I argue that Filipino nationals had long acted as honest cosmopolitan-minded brokers with the Americans. Filipinos were transparent as to their desire for political independence and self-determination. This desire had been communicated through the Filipino uprising under Spanish rule, to U.S. diplomats who advocated repatriating exiled Filipino leaders, and to U.S. military leaders in the Philippines. Additionally, in their Declaration of Independence, Filipinos outlined their intentions and motivations to the entire world. In short, Aguinaldo and the Filipinos nationalists were acting with a degree of cosmopolitan inspired rootedness as they openly communicated their aspirations to every American they encountered. There is ample evidence to indicate, however, that the Americans with whom Aguinaldo was dealing directly were genuinely uninterested in cosmopolitan conversations. Lacking a cosmopolitan partner in the Philippines whom he could deal with in good faith, Aguinaldo necessarily dispatched an emissary (the Filipino lawyer Felipe Agoncillo) to Washington. This gesture indicates that Aguinaldo was searching for an “other-Other” with which he could finally begin a cosmopolitan conversation. In a cosmopolitan sense, the Filipino emissary Agoncillo traveled to Washington with three important assignments. First, to ensure that the unadulterated message of the Filipino nationalists was being received (i.e., demonstrating a cosmopolitan rootedness). Second, to ensure that the right people, those committed to respecting the people of Philippines, were receiving this message (i.e., seeking the cosmopolitan “other-Other”). And finally, working with a cosmopolitan partner to discuss the possible responsibilities (realizing ends and enacting means) that the Americans and the Filipinos could burden together. In Washington, Agoncillo was granted a polite audience with McKinley, but found no cosmopolitan partner as the message of Aguinaldo’s government was dismissed entirely (Wolff, 1960/2006). Furthermore, McKinley refused to grant Agoncillo an audience with U.S. treaty negotiators and then even refused to acknowledge a written memorandum Agoncillo prepared for those negotiators (Wolff, 1960/2006). Failing in Washington, Agoncillo moved on to Paris where he received an even colder reception from both American and Spanish negotiators. Unable to find a cosmopolitan “other-Other,” emissary Agoncillo’s diplomatic mission ultimately resulted in failure.

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Rootedness: America’s Ongoing Contest On June 15th, 1898, a Boston meeting of citizens opposed to America’s overseas expansion grew into the Anti-Imperialist League. Before long, loosely organized Anti- Imperialist Leagues began to appear in major cities across America (Harrington, 1935; Legaspi, 1968/1973). Early League platforms leaned heavily on American social narratives that emphasized the mythology of “events in American history (the Spirit of 1776 and the Civil War), American documents (The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution) and American heroes (Washington and Lincoln)” (Dooley, 2009, p 55). In terms of this paper’s cosmopolitan framework, I contextualize the League as seeking to develop an American sense of rootedness that it traced back to the foundational documents of the United States, particularly the notion that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed and that the people have a right to alter or abolish any government that has become destructive (U.S. Declaration of Independence, 1776). Imperialists in the McKinley camp, by contrast, were implicitly arguing for a different sort of American rootedness. Their rootedness was associated with a narrow version of American economic prosperity that necessarily enacted violence to the “unalienable Rights” of certain peoples. Arguably, this contest for American rootedness continues today. As much as I would personally like to advance the League’s ethical argument for American rootedness (though their position was not entirely unproblematic), a critical historical examination of North America complicates such a stance. The continent’s history of colonization and economic exploitation by European settlers, the displacement and genocide of the continent’s indigenous people, and the chattel slavery of Africans (all of which came well before and remained well after the United States’ aspirational founding documents), make it difficult to outright dismiss the imperialists’ implicit argument that American rootedness is found in the economic expansion and prosperity of a narrow segment of its population. Despite any idealistic aspirations otherwise, it grieves me to consider that perhaps the strongest roots of the United States are those of exploitation in the name economic prosperity. Certainly, any apicoectomy of these problematic roots has proven difficult and incomplete. Even with passing of over one-hundred and twenty years since McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation was issued, the contest of American rootedness is far from resolved as the party of McKinley continues to define American success almost exclusively in terms of economic prosperity while the challenging party expresses an Anti-Imperialist-like concern for or the “soul of the nation”

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(Bradner, 2020). Even modern-day equivalents of Anti-Imperialists League factions (for instance, the 21st century Lincoln Republicans, which like the 19th century Mugwumps, renounced the ongoing corruption of their political brand) can be found in today’s ongoing struggle for American rootedness. Attacked as a traitor for his stinging criticism of American imperialism, Anti-Imperialist Mark Twain wryly retorted that "the nation is divided, half-patriots and half-traitors, and no man can tell which from which” (Gibson, 1947, p. 463). Twain’s critique of the American contest for its rootedness is as pertinent today as it was a century ago.32 Given its resonance then, this ongoing debate over American’s rootedness is surely worth carrying into the American classroom for a larger examination and discussion. A historical study of a somewhat non-polarizing, non-emotive topic (like, for instance, the Philippine-American conflict—a topic on which almost no American student is taught in any depth, if at all) allows students to examine their tribe’s rootedness at a temporal distance and to debate what values they believe their tribe is (or should be) rooted in. I have come to believe that cosmopolitanism is not neutral on the educatory outcome of such an exercise, however. As Niclas Rönnström (2016) argues, cosmopolitanism in education helps students to resist economic exploitation. In the case of the Philippine-American conflict, a realized cosmopolitanism would have advanced ideals such as empathy, inclusiveness, communication, and cooperation, even as it strengthened local rights and responsibilities (within America) and then extended those rights and responsibilities to the global (i.e., to the Philippines) (Rönnström, 2016). Moreover, a cosmopolitan educational exploration of this topic might examine American opportunities for expanding, rather than restricting, democracy in a modern world that is experiencing largely unexpected and unimagined increasing connectedness (Held, 2003, 2010). Appiah’s approach to cosmopolitanism, however, complicates Rönnström-inspired educational outcomes by suggesting that conversing tribes need not come to solutions, but rather come to understand each other better. In an Appiah-style approach, cosmopolitanism is realized

32 Twain would serve as vice-president of the Anti-Imperialist League until his death in 1910. The League pinned much of its early efforts on two actions: (1) preventing U.S. Senate ratification of the Treaty-of-Paris in 1999 (which would have prevented the U.S. from formally taking custody of the Philippines from Spain) and (2) defeating McKinley in 1900 presidential contest. Failing on both counts, the League lost much its momentum. Though a shadow of its former self, the Anti-Imperial League lingered on for years, formally disbanding in 1921 (Bailey, 1937; Bello, 1998; Davis, 1953; Dooley, 2009; Gibson, 1947; Harrington, 1935; Legaspi, 1968/1973, Vaughn, 2009).

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not in solving problems but in the formative interaction with the Other (Appiah, 2006; Papastephanou, 2012; Hansen, 2011, 2017). For more solution-oriented versions of cosmopolitanism, however, the outcome of this formative interaction is the creation of new approaches (the construction of Restivo’s “third culture”) (Delanty, 2009, p. 11). Surely economic prosperity and emancipatory, non-exploitative democracy need not constitute a Manichean binary; and third culture considerations for the McKinley-led imperialist camp and the Twain led anti-imperialist camp might find a way of marrying economic prosperity with emancipatory and non-exploitative practices. This possibility is ripe for further study of cosmopolitanism. Even given Restivo’s realization of a third culture, however, there are certain fundamental cosmopolitan principles enshrined in the Anti-Imperialist League’s arguments that McKinley’s camp failed to embrace. As I have argued in my cosmopolitan framework (chapter four), at its best cosmopolitan rootedness promotes the conditions for moral human flourishing within one’s own traditions, culture(s), and society, and then works within those traditions to promote moral flourishing beyond one’s tribal borders. Arguably the Anti-Imperialists were promoting such a rootedness for Americans. The unchecked economic rootedness of McKinley’s imperialists meanwhile (unchecked by either respect or responsibility for the moral flourishing of the Other) devolved into ideology, an inherent belief of the moral superiority of the American traditions, culture(s), and society. Arguably for the imperialists, the economic flourishing of the United States took precedence over a respectful moral flourishing of the Other in the Philippines. Cosmopolitan minded education, I contend, cannot be neutral in such contests for cultural, traditional, or social rootedness.

Education as Conflict-Related Political Spectacle One final note regarding political spectacle. Recall from sentence three of McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation that shortly after the treaty of Paris is signed, McKinley will order the U.S. occupation of Manila “extended with all possible dispatch to the whole of the ceded territory.” This order sets in motion a series of events that includes the expansion of American schooling across the archipelago and (eventually) the importation of hundreds of U.S. teachers and school administrators. McKinley sold this educational intervention as benevolence. Viewed through a globalist-trade / geopolitical-oriented lens, however, the introduction of U.S.

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education in the Philippines served no purpose other than a cover for trade and territorial expansion. By this, I mean to go beyond the usual argument that schooling accompanied and / or assisted such efforts to say that American schooling served no purpose at all EXCEPT as a distracting political spectacle that diverted attention from the real goals of economic profit and territorial expansion. The teachers and administrators, many no-doubt with sincere (if misguided) intentions toward the schooling of Filipino children, were ultimately pawns in a geopolitical game that could care less about how (or even if) they performed their roles. In the examination of McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, I have argued that U.S. educatory efforts served the intentions of the government, of the military, and of economic profit. The U.S. Army found schooling to be a cheaper and more humane way of winning “hearts and minds” than military conquest. Public officials contested the merits of educatory versus industrial education models to best serve economic profit motives. Government officials pointed to schooling as a means of creating (while yet simultaneously denying) a self-governing society. Yes, schooling found its justifications, many of which contained a degree of merit. I’m proposing, however, that none of these justifications mattered in the context of McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation because schooling itself didn’t matter. McKinley’s America wanted trade and expansion and would get these things with or without a system of schooling. Schooling was an ultimately unimportant side-show, a legerdemain, a political spectacle that distracted attention from the economic and political realities occurring in the Philippines. What then does it mean for the cosmopolitan-minded actor that an education / schooling system is established for the wrong reasons? Should educators work within such a system to realize cosmopolitan goals as best they can? Or do they reject service (i.e., employment) in such a system entirely? This question has ongoing pertinence as conflict-related education continues across the world; should teachers walk away from education in such systems, or should they work within the systems that exist in less-than-perfect realities? To help answer these questions, consider that cosmopolitanism in education does not seek the creation of a utopian society, but rather seeks the educatory transformation of individuals who exist in the world as it is, given the world’s imperfections, injustices, and all (Hansen, 2011). After all, if we had utopianism, we wouldn’t need cosmopolitanism (or most other ethical / philosophical orientations for that matter). David Hansen (2011) goes so far as advising that cosmopolitanism keep “a respectful

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distance from utopian idealism” (p. 5). While utopian visions have the potential to “constitute valuable alternative standpoints for criticizing present arrangements,” they can also “easily unmoor the human spirit from the here and now” (Hansen, 2011, p. 5). Education, argues Hansen, has always been about the here and now, about meeting the student where they are: educationally, geographically, and even within a political body. In other words, educators cannot turn away from conflict-related education, but should engage with it as they must with any educational environment. That said, educators cannot be, in the language of Jonathan Zimmerman (2006) “innocents abroad” as many Thomasites seemed to have been, unaware of education's context within the broader political maneuverings of their government. Rather cosmopolitan minded educators must necessarily be attuned to the larger socio-political environment (which inevitably works its ways into the classroom) so that the work of education helps students to reflect on local conditions even as those students also acquire “knowledge of subjects and of the larger world” (Hansen, 2011, p. 4). Rather than focus on the external environment of the education system then, cosmopolitan-minded educators should instead consider it more important that students be able to broadly explore ideas of justice and flourishing while reflecting on the existing local conditions. Moreover, the ideological purist might consider that, conflict-related setting or not, schooling never occurs in an environment un-influenced by economy, business, or government. Finally, I want to bring this conclusion back to cosmopolitan notions of responsibility. When it comes to responsibility, as I have previously argued, cosmopolitan minded actors recognize a moral obligation to Others and envision ends and enact means to realize that obligation. Turning that responsibility to education, this means enacting educatory responsibilities within the context of an unjust system to realize cosmopolitan notions of justice and flourishing as best that particular educator can in that particular setting. For teachers and administrators, one can (and should) be critical of the overall system while still working within the system to help students explore a cosmopolitan minded longing for greater social justice and broader realizations of human flourishing.

Revisiting the Research Questions I conclude this chapter by briefly addressing my original research questions.

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1. Throughout the course of this dissertation, I have shown how a historical examination of education-related major events and key policy documents from the Philippine-American conflict (specifically, McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation) could be used to further develop a normative philosophy of cosmopolitanism. Specifically, such a historical examination led to my development of an original framework (based on respect, responsibility, and rootedness) for better understanding cosmopolitanism and its educational applications. This framework has provided me with a more tangible way of thinking about, evaluating, and realizing cosmopolitanism in my own research and praxis. My modest hope is that it may prove to other cosmopolitan-minded researchers and practitioners as well. 2. Throughout this dissertation I have demonstrated that cosmopolitanism can serve as a valuable framework for interpreting and understanding the U.S.’s historical use of conflict-related education as an instrument of foreign policy. Using the Philippine- American conflict as a historical research site, and with reference to prior and precedent- setting Native and Black American educational-conflict sites, I have argued that the U.S.’s conflict-related education efforts followed the lead of an American foreign policy that has been particularly anti-cosmopolitan in its approach to populations deemed subaltern. Moreover, I have argued that the original governing policy document for the Philippines, McKinley’s benevolent assimilation proclamation, created an environment that would, from the outset, consistently undermine all notions of cosmopolitanism including cosmopolitanism in education. 3. Though many of its lessons are negative (i.e., what not to do), an understanding of the Philippine-American conflict better informs and shapes the realization of cosmopolitanism in future conflict-related education. I believe that future policymakers would do well to establish policies based on a cosmopolitan foundation. These policies would communicate an honest respect for the moral foundations and particular lived experience of the Other. Eschewing paternalism, these policies would also recognize one’s ethical obligations to the Others and, in conversation with the Other, purposefully act to meet those obligations. Moreover, these policies would be rooted in those elements of one’s own traditions, culture(s), and society that promote social justice and human flourishing. To better realize cosmopolitanism in the future, policymakers would also do

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well to avoid the McKinley-esque policy themes of sovereignty and economy as these themes explicitly undermined cosmopolitan notions of respect and responsibility even as they root American policy almost exclusively in economic prosperity regardless of their moral and ethical cost. Finally, I have argued that educators considering service in conflict-related sites must recognize the distracting political spectacle of “education as benevolence” even while they work within conflict-related education systems to explore the cosmopolitan related themes of their “here and now” with their students. Cosmopolitanism in education cannot wait for utopian educational conditions.

Closing This research has led me to believe that a cosmopolitan orientation in education has particular applicability in conflict-related environments. The cosmopolitan approach simultaneously decenters the individual (helping them to fundamentally question their tribe’s role in conflict as well as the potentially morally centered response of the Other) even as it reinforces that individual’s commitment to their particular cultural, traditional, and societal ideals of social justice and human flourishing. Education does not operate in a vacuum, however, and cosmopolitan-inspired policy necessarily sets the tone for cosmopolitan-inspired education. In conflict-related education, cosmopolitanism necessarily involves difficult conversations that center on the more just usage of land and of a third culture created by future- oriented hope rather than backward-looking sentimentality or retaliation. Invoking the spirit of Jose Rizal, in some small way, may this dissertation be a tardy gesture of hope for moving beyond the violence of the American government's historically anti- cosmopolitan education efforts in the Philippines and elsewhere. There is a lifetime of work in answering cosmopolitanism’s question of how we can more justly share this world, working together in the spirit of respect, responsibility, and rootedness.

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