The Pain of Manuel Quezon

The real imminence of war with Japan last week struck Manuel Quezon. In his mind's eye he saw Japanese bombers over Manila and perhaps his own people pointing at him accusingly. In one tense, crisis-ridden night, he made an astonishing speech and tried to put the blame away from himself.

Nobody controls President Quezon, not even Quezon, say the Filipinos. They know. Sometimes they say it with exasperated affection, like Brooklyn people talking about the Dodgers. Sometimes they say it with gleeful malice, as they recount President Quezon's latest prankish maneuver against austere, high-minded Francis Sayre, U.S. High Commissioner. Sometimes they say it with pride--their shrewd, peppery, uncontrollable Quezon, their cleverest politician, their smartest poker player, their smoothest ballroom dancer, their best-dressed man, their orator, their constant winner by overwhelming votes, their patriot, their President.

Last week, all dressed up in a white suit, Manuel Quezon stood up to address the students of the Philippines and nobody, not even himself, controlled him. He put aside his prepared manuscript, waved his arms and launched into a speech as impassioned as it was unwise. Its general purport was clear enough.

He told Filipinos that if war came now it would find the civilian population unprotected, that thousands might be killed for lack of air-raid shelters. He damned his critics, alibied himself, said that his grief and helplessness, bringing on another attack of tuberculosis, had brought him to the edge of the grave. He cried:

"If there had been war two months ago, there would have been starvation. If there should be war now, we might find ourselves without fuel. . . If war breaks out here our people will die unprotected from bombs. Those men who have stopped me from doing what I should have done ought to be hanged from lampposts."

Who were those men?

P: Quezon named the Civil Liberties Unions of the U.S. and the Philippines. They had charged him with "dictatorial" ambitions when he got from the Legislature more emergency power for defense.

P: U.S. "imperialists" wanted to show the defenselessness of the Philippines when war came, as an argument against independence.

P: Since the U.S. public was being led to believe that he wanted to be a dictator, President Roosevelt asked him not to use his emergency powers. "The Commanding General of the Philippine Department of the United States Army [General MacArthur] wrote me asking what this Government was doing for the protection of the civilian population. My answer was, 'I don't know. You ask the High Commissioner [Sayre].' Finally I was asked by the High Commissioner himself to constitute a Civilian Emergency Administration, to which body I gave all the powers the Emergency Act gave me. This is the reason why, for seven months, the powers were not exercised. . . ."

To this attack on the U.S., Manuel Quezon's audience responded with loud applause.

Haunting the President's restless mind was Manila's lack of air-raid shelters. U.S. authorities expect that if war begins Tokyo will be worse bombed than Manila, but talk about bombing the paper cities of Japan is no comfort to Quezon. In the old city of Manila, walled and narrow, there are no underground shelters, for the water table is only three feet underground. Underground shelters are not a necessity if Manila receives only sporadic bombings, but a greater danger than bombs is fire.

The streets funnel out into only a few exits; the houses are wood; the congestion is terrible; fire in the Tondo district of tenements and shops, brothels and huts would turn it into Hell on a Holiday.*

Into the parks, roads and buildings of magnificent Quezon City President Quezon is pouring an estimated $50,000,000--but the vulnerable sections of Manila still need fire-fighting equipment. Quezon's position was that until 1946 the U.S. is responsible for protecting the Philippines. Position of Commissioner Sayre was that the U.S. is indeed responsible for Philippine defense but that the law does not cover civilian protection. From gold devaluation and the sugar-processing tax the Philippine Treasury actually has a U.S. credit of $54,000,000. But an act of Congress in Washington is needed to release the money.

Even if all had been well about defense, finances and air-raid shelters, President Quezon would still have felt pain about Commissioner Sayre. Artful Manuel Quezon got whatever he wanted from Commissioner Frank Murphy, played poker with Paul McNutt, but cannot get around superconscientious Francis Sayre.

Six months ago President Quezon said: "Should the United States enter the war, the Philippines should follow her and fight by her side ... for the cause for which America would fight is our own cause." Last week war got so close that he exploded. This week he hastened to change tack, announced: "There can never be any question as to my absolute loyalty. . . . President Roosevelt knows that he can count on me and my Government and my people to the bitterest end."

*The Tondo district has had many a disastrous fire even in peace (1937, 1941).

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