Following the postwar era, The United States rapidly became proficient in exercising power indirectly through a dense, often-changing network of influence and client states, making it easy to overlook its own, once formal, empire. The root cause of its imperialistic adventures can be traced back to its involvement in Cuba’s War for Independence against the stumbling Spanish Empire in 1898, leading to the acquisition of Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines. Notably, the Philippines proved to be the most taxing of the newly acquired territories for Washington, as this provoked a series of regional rebellions against their new rulers from 1899 to 1902.
Despite managing to quell disturbances in a majority of the island cluster, unrest persisted in the southern provinces of Mindanao and Sulu, where the US forces faced persistent combat with Muslim rebels, referred to as Moros (a term borrowed from the Spanish’s historical foes, the Moors). By 1906, the colonial administration seemed to be on the verge of reign control over Mindanao when the decision was taken to eradicate a group of Moro resistors who had sought sanctuary on Sulu islands’ defunct volcano, Bud Dajo, to avoid American governance and the detested poll taxes. The consequent attack in the same year led to the notorious massacre of almost 900 Muslims, inclusive of a large number of women and children. This act of brutality has become yet another example of a deliberate omission from memories of US imperialism.
Kim A Wagner, a historian of Danish-British descent, provides an extensive, according to his own confession, yet insufficient, breakdown of the incident and preceding events in his book, Massacre in the Clouds. The title is an intentional adjustment of the then misidentified “the battle above the clouds”. This mislabeling was met with mockery from early critics of US imperialism such as Mark Twain, who referred to it as a “slaughter” committed by “Christian butchers”.
Among the ranks of the American military and its administrators, Major General Leonard Wood has garnered significant attention. As the leader of the Philippine Division and the governor of Moro Province, Wood had a noteworthy relationship with President Theodore Roosevelt, who went to great lengths to shield him from criticism, especially when the massacre became a subject of heated debate among anti-imperialists and Congressional Democrats in the United States. Wood was portrayed by Wagner as a clumsy career man, largely detested within the military. More so, his character was sullied by his underhanded act of ‘accidentally’ destroying the glass negative of a contentious photo featuring US soldiers and their Moro victims. This had begun to cause discomfort due to its widespread dissemination.
The book, ‘Massacre in the Clouds’, stands as an important work bringing attention to this overlooked historical event. Wood, though noticeably notorious, was not alone in his attitudes. Despite the divided opinion of the massacre in US politics, Wood aligned with the majority view, seeing the carnage as an unfortunate but essential measure. This viewpoint was shared by notable figures and most commentators, and as Wagner illustrates, continues to be endorsed by many American military historians. The insidious nature of white supremacy permeated the American imperial endeavour and according to Wagner, mirrored in the Indian Wars, which served as a precursor to subsequent foreign campaigns. The notoriety of the Wounded Knee massacre that claimed the lives of 300 Sioux in 1890 provides a striking example.
Despite its proficiency in racial categorising on par with European imperial powers, the US fell short in its expertise in oppressing people from distant nations. In 1902, Wood gained insight into the colonial machinations of Europe during a visit to European capitals, meeting eminent figures such as Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener. Following year, at Roosevelt’s command, his journey to the Philippines included stopping at numerous British and Dutch colonies.
Wagner, a distinguished expert on the British colonial rule over India, has carried out an exceedingly detailed analysis, uncovering a plethora of primary source data, much of it originated in the United States. He even succeeds in identifying the previously anonymous creator of a crucial trophy photograph. The sheer volume of archival evidence may be seen as the book’s primary vulnerability. The US’s three-day assault on Bud Dajo, in which over 400 artillery rounds were launched at inadequately armed Moros, is detailed across four chapters. This depth of detail, Twain argued, may be excessive given that the operation was not a ‘remarkable military accomplishment’. Consequently, these chapters may seem superfluous, inadvertently stalling the book’s pace.
Overlooking this minor critique, “Massacre in the Clouds” is a commendable piece, contributing towards returning this disgraceful episode to the heart of Western historical study. A graceful conclusion to the book is Wagner’s 2022 visit to the actual site, delayed due to the pandemic, where he interacts with descendants of the few survivors who unquestionably remember the events of March 1906.