The Conservation President’s Troubling Legacy

Stock, black-and-white photo of Theodore Roosevelt that was used in conservation biology lecture. Taken from https://www.whitehouse.gov/about-the-white-house/presidents/theodore-roosevelt/

I can picture the exact slide.

It was a stock, black-and-white photo of Theodore Roosevelt titled “Conservation President.” As a graduate student studying conservation biology, I was giving a lecture on the history of my field to an undergraduate class. I hit the typical talking points about Roosevelt’s presidency and his contributions to conservation: he protected nearly 230 million acres of land; appointed our first Chief of the U.S. Forest Service; etc. I took my lecture straight from conservation textbooks, plainly stating that his actions as president have impacted North American conservation well beyond his time in office.

But, as a Filipino American, I’ve come to feel ambivalent about that slide. I don’t believe it tells the full story. As I have gotten older, I’ve become more curious about my heritage and one thing that I’ve learned is that, while Roosevelt undeniably pushed the field of conservation forward, he also led a campaign to dehumanize and colonize my ancestors. To simply call Roosevelt the “Conservation President” and move on with the lecture is at best a gross oversimplification, at worst a full revision of history. As the conservation community and other institutions begin to reckon with how their problematic origins and pasts impact their actions today, I want to speak for the side of history that we often omit when we tell the story of conservation. I want to make sure we frame that slide and our “Conservation President” as I have come to see them.

It would be difficult to even estimate how many careers of conservation biologists and environmentalists have been inspired by the national park and protected areas systems, which Roosevelt vastly expanded.

Roosevelt and The Philippine-American War

In order to understand Roosevelt’s presidency in full, it is important to understand the context in which he came to power. Towards the end of the 19th century, the Philippines was fighting for its independence from Spain. It had been a colony of Spain for over 300 years and, though some unsuccessful revolts had taken place in that time, the Philippine Revolution, started in 1896, had particularly broad support from the Filipino public. At the same time, in the Caribbean Sea, Cuba (another Spanish colony) was also fighting for its independence.

Meanwhile, America was an “aggressive newcomer on the imperialist stage.”[1] Given the colonies’ strategic locations and American business investments in Cuba, President William McKinley was being pressured by American pundits into supporting both the Philippine and Cuban revolutions. So, when the USS Maine mysteriously exploded and sank in Cuba, it sparked a war with Spain as the suspected culprit. The Spanish-American war would last 10 weeks. The U.S. Navy, led by then-Assistant Secretary Theodore Roosevelt, overpowered Spanish forces and scored several key victories, including one in Manila Bay. On December 10th, 1898, the war ended with the signing of the Treaty of Paris. Importantly, rather than granting independence, this treaty transferred Philippine sovereignty from Spain to the United States.

This came as news to the Filipinos, who had themselves declared independence from any power half a year earlier. Throughout the Spanish-American War, Filipino President Emilio Aguinaldo was led to believe that the U.S. Navy was dispatched to aid the revolution. However, upon signing the Treaty of Paris and acquiring Philippine sovereignty, the U.S. rejected Filipino claims of independence. The bloody Philippine-American War that followed as a result of this disagreement was a brutal show of American imperialism. Often outnumbered and outgunned, Filipinos resorted to guerilla warfare. American military practices in the war were barbaric. This was the first war in which American soldiers used the interrogation practice we now call “waterboarding.” One war correspondent reported that American soldiers killed “men, women, children, prisoners and captives, active insurgents and suspected people from lads of 10 up.”[2] In the end, it is estimated that 20,000 Filipino combatants and over 200,000 Filipino civilians died in the war.

It is hard to overstate Roosevelt’s role in the Philippine-American War. Although Roosevelt became president in 1901 (midway through the war), he had long expressed a strong interest in expanding the American empire into the Pacific. Throughout his political career he identified as an “expansionist” and took a particular interest in governing the Philippines. In fact, when considering serving as McKinley’s running mate, Roosevelt famously noted that his decision would be influenced by whether or not “the Vice-Presidency led to the Governor Generalship of the Philippines”[3]. 

Perhaps more troubling was his rationale for governing the Philippines and, relatedly, his views on Filipinos. The Philippine-American War was not popular with the American public. In fact, there were prominent public figures, such as Mark Twain and Andrew Carnegie, who openly denounced it. Roosevelt responded to his critics in his famed “Free Silver, Trusts, and the Philippines” speech by insisting that Filipinos were unable to govern themselves. He quoted his correspondence with General Franklin Bell saying, “The dismal incompetence of the Filipinos for self-government is much more apparent now than it was then.”[4] Roosevelt maintained that U.S. expansion was for the benefit of the “savages” and that Filipinos must recognize “that we are the masters”[4].

Theodore Roosevelt delivering his "Free Silver, Trusts, and the Philippines" speech on September 7th, 1900. Taken from https://voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu/theodore-roosevelt-free-silver-trusts-and-the-philippines-7-september-1900/

Roosevelt was not just an advocate for controlling the Philippines as part of the American empire, he was arguably the driving force behind the entire movement. Moreover, the reasoning behind his actions was based on a belief of western superiority. Historians of the war largely agree: Roosevelt was an obstinate imperialist, who led a campaign to dehumanize the Filipino people and deny Filipino independence.

Reconciling Two Histories

Roosevelt famously made a two-week trip to Yellowstone National Park while in office – a fact I learned as a kid when I visited the park with my Tatay. I often attribute that trip with sparking my interest in the natural world. Teddy Roosevelt’s presidency introduced an appreciation for plants and wildlife at the federal level that arguably has never been matched by another Presidential administration. It would be difficult to even estimate how many careers of conservation biologists and environmentalists have been inspired by the national park and protected areas systems, which Roosevelt vastly expanded. He also amplified the work of famed preservationists such as John Muir and Gifford Pinchot, elevating conservation to the national stage. To be honest, I am not sure if I would be in this field without his actions to protect wildlife and habitat.

Yet, even his ecological legacy has a dark side. The presence of the U.S. military in the Pacific Islands is directly tied to invasive species that have decimated native wildlife. Most notably, American forces introduced brown tree snakes, which prey on birds and their eggs, to the island of Guam in the 1940s, sending it into an ecological meltdown and essentially stripping it of all native bird species.[5] Of course, Roosevelt’s actions had long-lasting and insidious cultural influence as well. The idea that Filipino’s could not govern themselves, which he repeatedly propagated, was one that deeply embedded itself in American rhetoric. In the early 1900’s, Filipinos from different parts of the country were even taken from the Philippines and put on display in human zoos in an effort to frame Filipinos as primitive people and drum up support for American occupation.[6] These reprehensible practices would not be banned by the American government until 1914. The American occupation of the Philippines that Roosevelt touted and championed wouldn’t end until July 4th, 1946.

I am not a historian and I am not an ethicist. I am a Filipino American conservation biologist who has been told two conflicting versions of a historical figure. I am also not the first person to write about controversial figures in my field’s history and will surely not be the last. Earlier this year, Dr. Drew Lanham famously and eloquently wrestled with renowned ornithologist John James Audubon’s problematic past as a “racist, slave-owning birding god.”[7] The Sierra Club has publicly denounced one of their founders, John Muir, for his racist views, particularly towards the indigenous people of the Americas.[8] My aim is not to talk over these voices, but rather to echo their exact sentiments from another perspective. As they have pointed out, the field and institutions to which I have dedicated my career were founded by men who likely would have seen me as inherently inferior, if not sub-human. Like many people of color in my field, this is not a legacy I claim to know how to fix. Do not look to me for answers. These colonial roots run deep. The very nature of a systemic issue is that it cannot be fully addressed by treating one branch. And my exploration of Roosevelt’s convoluted -- if not entirely tainted -- title of “Conservation President” only serves to further illuminate how much of the tree is rotten.

Mikko Jimenez presenting his thesis during his M.S. public defense.

I’m at the front of the class again. The muddled legacy of this conservation icon runs through my head as I continue on with the lecture. I pause and clear my throat. My voice shakes. I’m uneasy. It’s difficult to reconcile the history I’ve been told to teach with the one I’ve become aware of.

But, as I stare at the hundreds of young faces in the large lecture hall, I remember: I hold the clicker now. I am at the front of the class. I write the lectures. They are listening to me.

And, when I tell the story of conservation, my ancestors will be spoken for. 

Sources

[1] Davenport, John. 1991. “Theodore Roosevelt and the Philippine Insurrection.” In Journal of History. Vol. Volume Two. San Francisco State University. https://history.sfsu.edu/sites/default/files/EPF/1991_John%20Davenport.pdf.

[2] Broder, David S. 1986. “America’s Dirty Little War in the Philippines.” Washington Post, February 19, 1986. https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1986/02/19/americas-dirty-little-war-in-the-philippines/3eaa98c2-d136-4cfc-b999-8754ff20bc14/.

[3] Goodwin, Doris K. 2013. The Bully Pulpit: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the Golden Age of Journalism. Simon & Schuster.

[4] Roosevelt, Theodore. 1900. “Free Silver, Trusts, and the Philippines.”

[5] Rodda, Gordon H., and Julie A. Savidge. 2007. “Biology and Impacts of Pacific Island Invasive Species. 2. Boiga Irregularis, the Brown Tree Snake (Reptilia: Colubridae)1.” Pacific Science 61 (3): 307–24. https://doi.org/10.2984/1534-6188(2007)61[307:BAIOPI]2.0.CO;2.

[6] Prentice, Claire. 2014. The Lost Tribe of Coney Island. Amazon Publishing; 1st edition.

[7] Lanham, Drew. 2021. “What Do We Do About John James Audubon?” Audubon Magazine, 2021. https://www.audubon.org/magazine/spring-2021/what-do-we-do-about-john-james-audubon.

[8] Brune, Michael. 2020. “Pulling Down Our Monuments.” Sierra Club, July 22, 2020. https://www.sierraclub.org/michael-brune/2020/07/john-muir-early-history-sierra-club.


Mikko Jimenez is a PhD student in the Fish, Wildlife, and Conservation Biology Department of Colorado State University, where he studies the intersection of bird migration and urban life. He has published research in Nature Ecology and Evolution and written for the National Audubon Society. Follow him on Twitter @MikkoJimenez.