Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2020. xii, 215 pp. (B&W photos, illustrations.) US$95.00, cloth. ISBN 978-1-4985-8266-7.
A sociologist by training, Erin L. Murphy has worked on issues of sex, race, and colonialism, particularly in the context of the Philippine-American War. In her first book, No Middle Ground, she expands on this research agenda to explore the fascinating trajectory of United States anti-imperialists vis-à-vis the military conquest and colonization of the Philippines through a lens of “ethical witnessing.” As defined by Murphy, ethical witnessing is “a way of practicing citizenship that honors our human connections to one another, allowing us to show up for our own integrity by showing up for one another” (3). The author seeks to bring light to this historical case of ethical witnessing, the value of which is not only intrinsic, but also relevant in the long present of controversial wars and practices of indefinite detention and torture engaged in by the United States abroad, and white supremacist violence, mass incarceration, and the detention of migrant children at home. The “No Middle Ground” in the title refers to the firm position taken by members of the Anti-Imperialist League (AIL), whereby they would refuse to find a “middle ground” of compromise with those who engaged in abusive practices and systems. In her book, Murphy seeks to expand the chronological and social scope beyond what previous scholars have focused on, bringing light to the later stages of the trajectory of AIL and on the contributions of white women, Black men and women, and Filipino activists to the movement (9).
Regarding the first objective, Murphy explores the activities of the AIL not only during its “classic” phases of opposition to the annexation of the Philippines and the campaign to elect an anti-imperialist candidate to the White House (William Jennings Bryan), but also in the post-1900 context, which has received less scholarly focus. This period, ranging from roughly 1901 to its dissolution in 1920, was characterized by its efforts to bring light to the multiple abuses being committed by United States forces in the Philippines, such as the “water cure” (a method of torture often compared to waterboarding), the reconcentration camps to which Filipinos were forced to relocate, and the wanton massacre of Muslims in the south of the archipelago, as studied in chapters 3 and 4. Faced with systematic political stonewalling that brought an end to the Senate Investigation on Affairs in the Philippines (chapter 3), and widespread indifference to Philippine issues among the greater public (chapter 4), the AIL failed to accomplish the objectives they initially set out to achieve. However, Murphy argues that despite this, several of its prominent members set the stage for wider ethical witnessing in the United States, contributing to the formation of strong movements in defense of Black and Native American rights.
Her other objective, highlighting the contributions of Black men and women, white women, and Filipino activists to the anti-imperialist struggle, faces greater difficulties. While the first two groups feature prominently in chapter 1, where she explores the first AIL campaign against the annexation of the Philippines, their presence fades in the following chapters. It is only in chapter 4 that the activities of Helen Wilson in the Philippines and of several Filipinos in the United States (particularly Maria C. Lanzar, a researcher who received her PhD in political science from the University of Michigan in the 1920s with a dissertation on the AIL) take centre stage again. This is naturally the result of the extant sources and the historical trajectory of the AIL. As Murphy points out, not many sources directly addressing the contributions of white women and Black men and women were preserved, and the early AIL also made the conscious decision to marginalize them. Thus, long passages of the book continue to foreground the maneuverings of white men vis-à-vis each other; to her credit, Murphy does make an effort to comment on the implications of these activities on white women and Black men and women. Within the constraints of the archive, No Middle Ground does a good job of highlighting these trajectories.
With No Middle Ground being more properly a book on United States history, its relevance for readers interested in Asia and the Pacific—or specifically the Philippines—might be mixed. Part of the book’s spirit seems to be to present an ethical witnessing of its own, i.e., presenting its readers with the horrors of a “forgotten war” and “forgotten empire” that preceded those of the modern-day United States, and reminding its readers of what is at stake. For scholars of the Philippines, these events are already familiar—some may even find it regrettable that the Malolos Republic is repeatedly referred to as “Malalos,” even in the index (8, 210). However, students of the Philippines may take interest from the perspective of the “intra-imperial field” concept that Murphy borrows from Julian Go (17), whereby one looks at developments in the colonies and the metropole in a single united “field,” rather than as discrete, separate entities. Thus, while most of the action takes place in the continental United States, and most of the actors are white Americans, the rise and fall of the AIL, in a way, would also be Philippine history.
Jorge Bayona
University of Washington, Seattle