Freedom From Want: The Ghost of Carlos Bulosan
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Carlos Bulosan was a self-taught polymath who migrated early on to the United States and proved himself the equal of his country’s colonizers through his writings.
Bulosan was special. In a decade and a half, he had emerged as a writer who, together with such established luminaries as Booth Tarkington, Will Durant, and Stephen Vincent Benet, would be chosen to write one of the essays accompanying the illustrations of the Four Freedoms by iconic American artist Norman Rockwell in the Saturday Evening Post. These four freedoms had been defined by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in his State of the Union Address in January 1941. They became part of the Atlantic Charter and were incorporated into the Charter of the United Nations.
“Freedom from Want,” exemplified by a Thanksgiving dinner, as envisioned by Norman Rockwell and published in the Saturday Evening Post on March 6, 1943.
This was at the height of World War II when Western and Russian victory was still not assured and the struggle against fascism still a protracted one. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Four Freedoms were therefore both ideals still to be achieved and powerful talismans to be carried by those in battlegrounds and in occupied territories like the Philippines.
Bulosan was an unknown who had struggled bitterly to keep body and soul together as an ailing immigrant in Alaska, Washington, and California. It was a master stroke by the Post’s editors to have bet on him to write the defining essay, “Freedom from Want” and they won their wager.
The third freedom was different from the three traditional ones of Freedom from Fear and Hunger and of Religion. It espoused equal access by all to the fruits of labor, an idea that sounds fairly harmless today but was subversive to some then. Bulosan would expand this notion even further in his essay. By his definition, it would have a higher dimension beyond its physical sense.
Bulosan’s essay has special resonance today in the midst of the pandemic, threats to democracy by authoritarian trends, and rapid social change.
Here are some takeaways from his essay:
(1) Much like today, the United States then was grappling with the issue of racism and inequality.
Bulosan stated the basic principle: “It is the dignity of the individual to live in a society of free men, where the spirit of understanding and belief exists; of understanding that all men are equal; that all men, whatever their color, race, religion or estate, should be given equal opportunity to serve themselves and each other according to their needs and abilities.”
Bulosan himself experienced discrimination and was subject to laws forbidding marriage between the races. Someone with such a fine command of the English language as he did would have had a hard time finding a job making use of such a rare gift. Arguably, the ordeal of his physically demanding jobs negatively impacted on his health, resulting in his early death. He was also stereotyped as “a Communist” in the McCarthy era and was, therefore, unable to parlay his newly discovered literary reputation into a stable job as a writer.
(2) Amidst plenty, there are still groups of people, such as children and Blacks and other people of color, who are marginalized and do not enjoy such prosperity
In Bulosan’s words: “But we are not really free unless we use what we produce. So long as the fruit of our labor is denied us, so long will want manifest itself in a world of slaves. It is only when we have plenty to eat — plenty of everything — that we begin to understand what freedom means. To us, freedom is not an intangible thing. When we have enough to eat, then we are healthy enough to enjoy what we eat. Then we have the time and ability to read and think and discuss things. Then we are not merely living but also becoming a creative part of life. It is only then that we become a growing part of democracy.”
Bulosan’s words have now become somewhat ironic in the light of both malnutrition and obesity in the United States today, viz: “It is only when we have plenty to eat—plenty of everything—that we begin to understand what freedom means.”
(3) Bulosan was well aware of the civil strife and injustices prevailing in American society then. He stated:
“We are bleeding where clubs are smashing heads, where bayonets are gleaming. We are fighting where the bullet is crashing upon armorless citizens, where the tear gas is choking unprotected children. Under the lynch trees, amidst hysterical mobs. Where the prisoner is beaten to confess a crime he did not commit. Where the honest man is hanged because he told the truth.
We are the sufferers who suffer for natural love of man for another man, who commemorate the humanities of every man. We are the creators of abundance.”
Bulosan would have recognized the Black Lives Matter and Occupy Wall Street movements as being echoes of what he had seen in his America. He would surely have been surprised at the January 6 insurrection and the invasion of the Capitol.
(4) Bulosan defined the idea of “want” as going beyond the physical, but to also include the spiritual and the intellectual. In a sense, he was aiming for a utopia. The America of 2021 is still challenged in ways that Bulosan might not have imagined in 1943.
However, as envisioned by President Roosevelt as an ideal projected onto the world, Freedom from Want meant something different, namely, “economic understandings which (would) secure to all nations a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants.” In other words, it had a narrower definition of trade agreements among nations to secure peace and prosperity.
“But our march to freedom is not complete unless want is annihilated. The America we hope to see is not merely a physical but also a spiritual and an intellectual world. We are the mirror of what America is. If America wants us to be living and free, then we must be living and free. If we fail, then America fails.
What do we want? We want complete security and peace. We want to share the promises and fruits of American life. We want to be free from fear and hunger.
If you want to know what we are — we are marching!”
Bulosan would go on from 1943 developing himself as a writer, with his best known work, “America is in the Heart.” He would write other works as well, such asThe Laughter of My Father and My Father goes to Court
Bulosan’s “America is in the Heart”
Way ahead of the wave of OFWs in the exodus of Filipinos who went abroad, Bulosan would mirror the experience of working abroad in order to support families back home.
In his case, however, he did not have any home to go back to. His parents had already left Binalonan, Pangasinan and settled elsewhere.
He had found his mission in the U.S. as an activist and writer. He never went back to the Philippines once he had settled in California. He also found love in an American woman, Josephine Patrick, who was already married. When he was in hospital, his other lady friends would visit him and provide him books in order to satisfy his insatiable appetite for reading.
He also had a circle of labor union friends who gave him support.
Today, Bulosan’s American is in the Heart is part of the canon of Asian American studies.
Bulosan's works and legacy are housed in a permanent exhibition, "The Carlos Bulosan Memorial Exhibit," at the Eastern Hotel in Seattle's International District, whose centerpiece mural entitled "Secrets of History"[10] was created by Eliseo Arambulo Silva.
In 2018, the Bulosan Center for Filipino Studies Initiative was established at the University of California, Davis to carry on his legacy of activism through research and advocacy of the Filipino and Filipino American community.
It is ironic, though, that Bulosan is not widely known in his native Philippines and even less so among the ten million Filipinos who live abroad as OFWs.
There are many Filipinos who are trying to correct this flaw and who seek to reinsert Carlos Bulosan into the consciousness of his people. Hopefully, 2021, which is also a turning point in worldwide history, will bring this about.
[Read the complete essay below.]
Virgilio Reyes, Jr.
A career diplomat of 35 years, Ambassador Virgilio A. Reyes, Jr. served as Philippine Ambassador to South Africa (2003-2009) and Italy (2011-2014), his last posting before he retired. He is now engaged in writing, traveling, and is dedicated to cultural heritage projects.
More articles by Ambassador Virgilio Reyes, Jr.
Freedom from Want
By Carlos Bulosan
Originally published March 6, 1943
If you want to know what we are, look upon the farms or upon the hard pavements of the city. You usually see us working or waiting for work, and you think you know us, but our outward guise is more deceptive than our history.
Our history has many strands of fear and hope that snarl and converge at several points in time and space. We clear the forest and the mountains of the land. We cross the river and the wind. We harness wild beast and living steel. We celebrate labor, wisdom, peace of the soul.
When our crops are burned or plowed under, we are angry and confused. Sometimes we ask if this is the real America. Sometimes we watch our long shadows and doubt the future. But we have learned to emulate our ideals from these trials. We know there were men who came and stayed to build America. We know they came because there is something in America that they needed, and which needed them.
We march on, though sometimes strange moods fill our children. Our march toward security and peace is the march of freedom — the freedom that we should like to become a living part of. It is the dignity of the individual to live in a society of free men, where the spirit of understanding and belief exist; of understanding that all men are equal; that all men, whatever their color, race, religion or estate, should be given equal opportunity to serve themselves and each other according to their needs and abilities.
But we are not really free unless we use what we produce. So long as the fruit of our labor is denied us, so long will want manifest itself in a world of slaves. It is only when we have plenty to eat — plenty of everything — that we begin to understand what freedom means. To us, freedom is not an intangible thing. When we have enough to eat, then we are healthy enough to enjoy what we eat. Then we have the time and ability to read and think and discuss things. Then we are not merely living but also becoming a creative part of life. It is only then that we become a growing part of democracy.
We do not take democracy for granted. We feel it grow in our working together — many millions of us working toward a common purpose. If it took us several decades of sacrifices to arrive at this faith, it is because it took us that long to know what part of America is ours.
Our faith has been shaken many times, and now it is put to question. Our faith is a living thing, and it can be crippled or chained. It can be killed by denying us enough food or clothing, by blasting away our personalities and keeping us in constant fear. Unless we are properly prepared, the powers of darkness will have good reason to catch us unaware and trample our lives.
The totalitarian nations hate democracy. They hate us because we ask for a definite guaranty of freedom of religion, freedom of expression, and freedom from fear and want. Our challenge to tyranny is the depth of our faith in a democracy worth defending. Although they spread lies about us, the way of life we cherish is not dead. The American Dream is only hidden away, and it will push its way up and grow again.
We have moved down the years steadily toward the practice of democracy. We become animate in the growth of Kansas wheat or in the ring of Mississippi rain. We tremble in the strong winds of the Great Lakes. We cut timbers in Oregon just as the wild flowers blossom in Maine. We are multitudes in Pennsylvania mines, in Alaskan canneries. We are millions from Puget Sound to Florida. In violent factories, crowded tenements, teeming cities. Our numbers increase as the war revolves into years and increases hunger, disease, death, and fear.
But sometimes we wonder if we are really a part of America. We recognize the mainsprings of American democracy in our right to form unions and bargain through them collectively, our opportunity to sell our products at reasonable prices, and the privilege of our children to attend schools where they learn the truth about the world in which they live. We also recognize the forces which have been trying to falsify American history — the forces which drive many Americans to a corner of compromise with those who would distort the ideals of men that died for freedom.
Sometimes we walk across the land looking for something to hold on to. We cannot believe that the resources of this country are exhausted. Even when we see our children suffer humiliations, we cannot believe that America has no more place for us. We realize that what is wrong is not in our system of government, but in the ideals which were blasted away by a materialistic age. We know that we can truly find and identify ourselves with a living tradition if we walk proudly in familiar streets. It is a great honor to walk on the American earth.
If you want to know what we are, look at the men reading books, searching in the dark pages of history for the lost word, the key to the mystery of living peace. We are factory hands, field hands, mill hands, searching, building, and molding structures. We are doctors, scientists, chemists, discovering and eliminating disease, hunger, and antagonism. We are soldiers, Navy men, citizens, guarding the imperishable dream of our fathers to live in freedom. We are the living dream of dead men. We are the living spirit of free men.
Everywhere we are on the march, passing through darkness into a sphere of economic peace. When we have the freedom to think and discuss things without fear, when peace and security are assured, when the futures of our children are ensured — then we have resurrected and cultivated the early beginnings of democracy. And America lives and becomes a growing part of our aspirations again.
We have been marching for the last 150 years. We sacrifice our individual liberties, and sometimes we fail and suffer. Sometimes we divide into separate groups and our methods conflict, though we all aim at one common goal. The significant thing is that we march on without turning back. What we want is peace, not violence. We know that we thrive and prosper only in peace.
We are bleeding where clubs are smashing heads, where bayonets are gleaming. We are fighting where the bullet is crashing upon armorless citizens, where the tear gas is choking unprotected children. Under the lynch trees, amidst hysterical mobs. Where the prisoner is beaten to confess a crime he did not commit. Where the honest man is hanged because he told the truth.
We are the sufferers who suffer for natural love of man for another man, who commemorate the humanities of every man. We are the creators of abundance.
We are the desires of anonymous men. We are the subways of suffering, the well of dignities. We are the living testament of a flowering race.
But our march to freedom is not complete unless want is annihilated. The America we hope to see is not merely a physical but also a spiritual and an intellectual world. We are the mirror of what America is. If America wants us to be living and free, then we must be living and free. If we fail, then America fails.
What do we want? We want complete security and peace. We want to share the promises and fruits of American life. We want to be free from fear and hunger.
If you want to know what we are — we are marching!
