Pablo Ocampo served in the House as Resident
Commissioner only briefly, but he was a powerful
force on behalf of Philippine nationhood. From his
early days as a leader in the revolutionary government to his
election to the U.S. House of Representatives, Ocampo
helped shape the terms of the Philippines’ relationship
with America. On Capitol Hill, he fought to protect
the archipelago’s economy from what he considered an
unbalanced trade deal and worked to further the concerns
of the Philippine assembly. He was, according to Sereno
Payne of New York, the chairman of the House Ways and
Means Committee, “a gentleman of education, a lawyer,
and a man of ability.”1 Ocampo was not fluent in English,
but during his time as Resident Commissioner, he spoke
compellingly for his home islands.
Pablo Ocampo was born on January 25, 1853, to
an established Manila family.2 He attended Colegio de
San Juan de Letran before graduating from the University
of Santo Tomas in Manila in 1882. After studying law,
Ocampo passed the bar and began practicing in Manila,
starting what would become a very diverse career. From
1883 to 1884, he served as the prosecuting attorney in
Manila’s Tondo District along Manila Bay. And then,
under the Spanish regime, he served as secretary of the
royal court from 1885 to 1887 and as relator of the
supreme court from 1887 to 1888. From 1888 to
1890, he was an adviser to the Economic Association
of the Philippines.3
When the war broke out between the Philippines and
Spain, Ocampo severed his ties with the empire and joined
the revolution. The Spanish arrested him and threw him
in jail in 1896, but Ocampo remained committed to the
cause and became a close adviser to Emilio Aguinaldo, the
general leading the insurrection. In 1898, as the United
States beefed up its presence in the South Pacific, Ocampo
was elected to the Philippines’ revolutionary congress at
Malolos, a town approximately 30 miles north of Manila.4
Ocampo’s relationship with the U.S. occupying forces
was rocky from the start. In 1899 the United States
arrested him for his work with the revolution. Although
he was eventually released, Ocampo stayed on America’s
radar.5 During his time in Manila, Ocampo became
the editor of La Patria, a newspaper openly critical
of American occupation.6 According to a Los Angeles
Times correspondent in the Philippines, Ocampo was
also reported to have been the mastermind behind the
insurrection’s intelligence operation, sending agents
throughout Manila, Hong Kong, and other points in the
Pacific. “His office was really the distributing point of all
aid for the insurrectionists,” the reporter said, “and he
solicited contributions to keep up the battle.”7
The reach of Ocampo’s newspaper, alongside his history
with Philippine nationalists, made United States authorities
in the Philippines extremely nervous, so much so that, in
the first part of 1901, American military officials deported
him to the island of Guam, 1,500 miles to the east, where
his political views on Philippine independence would be
safely contained. But Ocampo’s repeated imprisonments,
first by the Spanish and then by the Americans, in addition
to his work with the revolutionary government, may have
only heightened his standing. Writing in the widely read
Harper’s Weekly a few years later, George H. Blakeslee, a
leading American authority in the field of international
relations, took stock of Ocampo’s repeated sacrifices and
concluded that the Manila lawyer was “a Filipino patriot.”8
After spending two years exiled in Guam, Ocampo
returned home. Despite concerns about his future in the
Philippines, the former rebel leader took the loyalty oath
to the United States and kept a comparatively low profile,
focusing on his law practice.9 His politics also seemed more moderate. While Ocampo was gone, U.S. civil authorities,
led by governor and future U.S. President William H. Taft,
began exerting greater control over the Philippines. They
worked closely with the Philippine Partido Federal (Federal
Party), which saw U.S. occupation as a stabilizing force. It
was a necessary evil that Ocampo hoped was a prelude to
Philippine nationhood, a goal he now believed could be
negotiated peacefully.10
Not long after he returned home, Ocampo fell in with a
newly formed group of Filipino elites called the Comité de
Intereses Filipinos (Committee of Filipino Interests), which
opposed America’s imperial government. Although the new
group included a number of former revolutionaries, the
committee’s ambitions were rather moderate. “It functioned
mainly as a coalition of oppositionists promoting the welfare
of the indigenous population,” wrote Michael Cullinane,
a historian of Philippine politics. The committee was
something of a political incubator, helping leaders of the
opposition form an agenda. “The primary accomplishment
of the Comité,” Cullinane observed, “was that it provided
an organization that brought together many of the men who
eventually emerged as the leaders of the Partido Nacionalista
in 1907.”11
The Partido Nacionalista (Nationalist Party) was
first conceived in 1906, the result of efforts to unite the
many different opposition leaders in Manila. For much
of the preceding decade, politics in the Philippines was
unbalanced: there was the pro-American Partido Federal
and then there was everyone else, a loose affiliation of
factions opposed to American rule. These opposition
groups all sought Philippine independence, but subscribed
to different levels of urgency—everything from immediate
independence to much more gradual freedom.
Ocampo, along with a number of his politically
moderate colleagues from the committee, gravitated to
a burgeoning party called Comité de la Unión Nacional
(Committee of the National Union). Although its
members did not push for immediate independence, they
did seem to want it sooner rather than later. Eventually, in
the spring of 1907, Manila’s nationalist elements, led by
the Comité de la Unión Nacional, fused together to form
the Partido Nacionalista, offering a stark contrast to the
Federalistas’ agenda (the Partido Federal changed its name
to Partido Nacional Progresista [National Progressive Party]
in 1907).12
The effort to unite the nationalist camps was still
lurching forward when the campaign for the new
Philippine assembly began. As part of the Philippine
Organic Act of 1902, Congress created a bicameral
legislature for the Philippines in which the commission
functioned much like the U.S. Senate while the assembly
would be popularly elected and fill a role similar to the
U.S. House of Representatives.13 It had taken five years,
but by the summer of 1907, the Philippines was preparing
to cast its first ballots for a popularly elected governing
body when Ocampo entered the race.
The philosophical differences which made it so
difficult to unify independence supporters in the first
place remained a problem. During the nominating phase,
numerous pro-independence groups ran candidates for
seats in the assembly often from the same district. Late in
the spring, Ocampo announced his candidacy for Manila’s
2nd district, releasing a platform in June that the Manila
Times, a newspaper sympathetic to American occupation,
called “very safe, sane, and conservative.”14 Ocampo had
become something of a realist over the years, and when he
was approached about running for the assembly by calling
for immediate independence, he flatly refused. American
authorities would never grant it, and Ocampo did not
want to waste time belaboring what he felt “constituted a
deception of the people.” It made more political sense to
him to work alongside American authorities and prepare
gradually for a lasting freedom. Because Ocampo refused
to support immediate independence, the Nacionalista
ticket fractured and cost him a seat in the assembly.15
Nevertheless, Ocampo suddenly found himself on
the inside track for a historic appointment to Congress.
The same Philippine Organic Act of 1902 that created
the assembly also empowered the islands’ legislature to
elect two Resident Commissioners to the U.S. House of
Representatives : the assembly and commission would each
select one candidate who then had to be confirmed by the other chamber. In the fall of 1907, Ocampo’s name was
submitted to the assembly, and on November 22, 1907,
he was elected with 42 votes, more than double his closest
competitor. The commission elected Benito Legarda, one
of the Philippines’ wealthiest businessmen and a close ally
of United States Secretary of War William H. Taft.16
Ocampo had a lot in his favor: even if he had
mellowed a bit, he was committed to the cause of
Philippine nationhood ; he ran a successful law practice;
and he was well regarded among the islands’ ruling class.
With Legarda, the commission had selected a member of
the pro-American Progressive Party. But, with Ocampo,
the assembly selected someone who it hoped could more
ably represent the interests of its nationalist majority.17
As Blakeslee, the American foreign policy scholar, pointed
out at the time, Ocampo was also a native Filipino.
“The majority of the Assembly were anxious to have their
delegate a true representative of their race,” Blakeslee
observed. “This fact alone was enough to cause the
defeat of other strong candidates who were in part of
Spanish origin.”18
Ocampo’s politics and his long career in the public eye
also seemed to make him the most viable compromise
candidate. His service in the revolutionary government
may have made him a radical, but by the time the assembly
sent him to Washington, Ocampo had the reputation as a
conservative leader among the Nacionalistas.19
The day after his election, an editorial in the Manila
Times gave Ocampo a lukewarm endorsement, and
mainland press accounts did so as well, describing the
commission’s decision to confirm his nomination as “a
good omen.” Ocampo, the New York Times surmised, was
now the public face of the islands’ nationalist movement.
“The career of Delegate Ocampo will be watched with
interest,” the editors wrote.20
Secretary of War Taft might not have completely agreed
with Ocampo’s politics, but the future commander in
chief also held him in high regard, telling then President
Theodore Roosevelt that the new Resident Commissioner
was “a prominent and able member of the bar of the
Islands and a man of high character.”21
The 60th Congress (1907–1909) was set to open
on December 2, 1907, only 10 days after Ocampo’s
election, severely condensing the new Resident
Commissioner’s travel schedule. During the early 20th
century, the trip from Manila to Washington, DC, took
about a month and required travelers to set sail from
Manila to Hong Kong in order to catch a steamer to San
Francisco. So there was little hope Ocampo and Legarda
would make it for the opening of the session. Congress,
however, had a busy legislative agenda to start the
60th Congress, and the Bureau of Insular Affairs had
told the Philippine commission that, in early January,
the House would consider a major overhaul of the
Dingley Tariff Act governing trade between the United
States and the Philippines.22
Many people on the islands, especially in the Philippine
legislature, were anxious for the Resident Commissioners
to make it to Capitol Hill in time to participate in the
tariff debate, but the quick turnaround from election to
departure created a mess. After a series of schedule changes,
Legarda and Ocampo agreed to leave Manila by December
21 in order to catch an America-bound ship sailing from
southern China on Christmas Eve.23 “At all events,” one
leading member of the Philippine legislature said, “it is
important that they be in Washington at the time the
bill is brought up in the House, so that it may have stout
defenders in persons who are cognizant of all the facts in
the case.”24
Adjusting tariff rates was complicated, detailed work
that contained a number of competing interests in both
the private and public sectors on either side of the Pacific.
Neither Ocampo nor Legarda could claim to be tariff
experts. So the legislature agreed to compile “all the
necessary data” they would need to help shape the section
of the legislation covering Philippine sugar and tobacco,
the islands’ two major commodities.25
Ocampo and Legarda arrived in San Francisco on
January 18, 1908, and almost immediately tried to sway
public opinion to their side, telling the Associated Press
that if Congress followed through on its plan to overhaul
tariff rates prices back home would skyrocket.26
The Resident Commissioners made it to Washington
two weeks later and took their seats in the House in early
February 1908. On February 4, the House approved a
measure giving them access to the House Floor and the
right to participate in debate. They received suites in the
new House Office Building (now the Cannon building),
but were prohibited from voting or serving on committees.27
A few days later, the House did the “proper and handsome
thing,” according to the New York Tribune, and voted to raise
their salaries to match the rest of their House colleagues.28
Because they were the Philippines’ only voices on Capitol
Hill, Legarda and Ocampo had to steer legislation in
both chambers. Building working relationships with both
Members and Senators was crucial to whatever success they
were going to have. In mid-February, for instance, Legarda
and Ocampo, whom the Baltimore Sun incorrectly referred
to as “Bonito Legarda” and “Tablo Ocampo de Leon,”
were formally introduced to the members of the Senate
Committee on the Philippines.29
For Ocampo, establishing those relationships was likely
going to be harder than normal. Unlike Legarda, Ocampo
was not fluent in English and relied on his personal secretary,
Antonio G. Escamilla, to translate for him. Escamilla and
Ocampo likely knew one another from their time with the
revolutionary government when they both served under
General Aguinaldo.30 Not long after Ocampo took his seat
in the House, it was reported that he planned on asking
Speaker Joe Cannon of Illinois if Escamilla could join him
on the House Floor during debate, but it is not clear if this
meeting ever occurred. Ocampo also hoped to have Legarda
translate for him.31
Ocampo kept a relatively low profile during his first
term in the House, but something as simple as his presence
on the floor, especially when he sat and spoke with
the Resident Commissioner from Puerto Rico and the
Delegate from Hawaii, generated interest in the galleries
above.32 In an official capacity, however, Ocampo mostly
stayed behind the scenes. Evidence in the Congressional
Record suggests that Ocampo pigeonholed Members in the
chamber to discuss living conditions back home and other
issues affecting the Philippines.33
In late February 1908, Ocampo and Legarda
accompanied Secretary Taft during his testimony before
the House Insular Affairs Committee and nodded along in
support as Taft asked the committee to raise the number
of seats on the Philippine commission from eight to
nine.34 When the commission bill went to the floor two
months later, Ocampo did not participate in debate, but
Members pointed out that both he and Legarda favored
the expansion.35 Ultimately, the bill (H.R. 17516) passed
the House and became law a few months later.
During his first term in the House, Ocampo juggled
two often interrelated responsibilities, one as the
Philippines’ official representative before the federal
legislature and another as a booster for his homeland. At
least twice in his first year he traveled outside Washington
to address crowds and participate in conferences. In
mid-March, Ocampo, Legarda, and officials from the
Bureau of Insular Affairs went to Cincinnati, Ohio—Taft’s
hometown—to attend an annual dinner hosted by the
Cincinnati Commercial Club. Ocampo, speaking through
a translator, touted the Philippines’ natural resources and
delivered remarks meant to entice American businesses
to the Pacific.36 Later in the year, in October, Ocampo
traveled to Lake Mohonk, New York, for a conference
titled simply “The Philippines,” where he told the crowd
that Filipinos across the island chain shared in “the vivid
desire of being free and independent.”37
A stable and lasting independence, however, required a
healthy economy. Ever since the war, the Philippines had
worked to build an infrastructure and a robust commercial
sector. In large measure, however, the future of the islands’
economy would be dictated by its trade relationship with
the United States, and that trade relationship fell squarely
within Congress’s purview.
At the time, the United States had no income tax, which
meant the government generated much of its revenue from
fees placed on goods imported to America. Trade with the
Philippines became problematic, however, because of its
territorial status. On the one hand, the Philippines, as an
American territory, could be seen as a domestic trading
partner. On the other hand, many people on either side of the Pacific saw the Philippines as a separate country entirely.
The question on everyone’s mind was whether that unique
status made the Philippines a foreign commercial entity.38
Before tackling tariff rates in 1909, Ocampo went
before the House Insular Affairs Committee to address a
completely separate concern the Philippine legislature had
regarding the qualifications needed to serve in the islands’
assembly. Manila wanted Congress to amend the Organic
Act of 1902 so that the requirements to serve at the local
level matched those for service in the insular government.
The changes the Philippines wanted were modest but
would have made service in the assembly slightly more
difficult, raising the age limit from 25 to 26, tightening
district residency regulations, and instituting a literacy test
in “English or Spanish or any of the local dialects.” The
hearing lasted only a few minutes, and with his secretary
Antonio Escamilla translating, Ocampo answered a series
of questions on the electoral process back home.39 The
Insular Affairs Committee supported the bill, which
came straight from the Philippine legislature, but with
only two weeks left in the session, the full House appears
to have taken a pass.40 It would be another two years
before Congress took a close look at the Philippines’ civil
government, and, at that point, Ocampo had already left
the House.41
When the 61st Congress (1909–1911) opened on
March 4, 1909, tariff reforms dominated everything. It was
a monumental legislative task, and the Ways and Means
Committee and its chairman, Sereno Payne, had spent
much of the last term gathering research. The newly elected
President Taft also threw the weight of his administration
behind the reform effort. By 1909, however, the United
States faced a budget shortfall of nearly $100 million,
which put a substantial amount of pressure on Congress
to set sustainable rates in order to cover the country’s
operating costs. As part of the debate, Congress was
forced to consider options for the major industries in the
Philippines : sugar and tobacco.42
Free trade with the Philippines had long been an
ambition on Capitol Hill, but implementing it had proven
difficult. Among other issues, U.S. sugar and tobacco
interests had waged campaign after campaign to protect
their market share and keep Philippine products out of
the country while simultaneously insisting on direct and
unfettered access to consumers in the Philippines.43
From the Philippines’ perspective, free trade threatened
economic collapse. Like Washington, the government
in Manila filled its treasury with money derived in large
measure from fees on imports. Recognizing Congress’s
ambition for free trade, however, the islands’ legislature
instituted a direct tax on its people in an effort to
compensate for what would amount to a huge loss of
annual revenue if and when free trade went into effect.
Despite the foresight of the Philippines’ legislature, by
1909, free trade had yet to begin, leaving the government
in Manila with two sources of income : tariffs and taxes.
Using tariffs to fund the government, the Philippines
started a series of ambitious infrastructure projects to
pump its tax revenue back into the economy. To suddenly
implement free trade would risk that progress.44
By the spring of 1909, the House’s solution to the
Philippine tariff issue seemed woefully one sided. H.R.
1438, the tariff bill which would eventually become the
Payne–Aldrich law, created what one member of the
press called “a novel free trade system.” The proposal gave
American businesses unlimited access to the Philippines,
but used quotas to restrict the entry of Philippine goods
into America. It was free only in the sense that America
could export its merchandise to the Philippines with no
charge. There was no vice versa.45
On April 2, 1909, as the House was midway through
its consideration of the tariff bill, Ocampo became the
first Filipino to formally participate in debate. Speaking
in halting English, he forcefully criticized the bill’s
treatment of his native Philippines. “The lack of absolute
reciprocity in that provision of the bill,” he said, “makes it
inequitable, inasmuch as the Philippine Islands, considered
a poor and small country, are under the protection of the
United States, a gigantic Nation and a herald of wealth.”
As designed, the new U.S.–Philippine trade relationship
would cost the Pacific territory vast sums every year.
Compounding the problem, America’s easy access to Filipino consumers would deter international competition.
“Once foreign goods are driven from the Philippine markets,”
Ocampo continued, “the importer of American products
would control the situation, and, following the usual
practice in trade as seen in the past and in the present, he
will despotically dictate the prices to the detriment of the
consuming public who shall be enslaved even in their most
pressing needs.”46
But the stakes involved in the tariff bill were not all
financial, and Ocampo pivoted to another topic : the
Philippines’ future independence. In an ideal world,
independence would allow the Philippines to impose tariffs
on U.S. goods down the road if it wanted. But in Ocampo’s
assessment of H.R. 1438, he saw the Philippines struggling
with its hoped-for freedom. He predicted that if the bill
became law, the relaxed trade terms would embolden U.S.
companies to move to the Philippines. Once American
companies took root in the Philippines, Ocampo expected
them to use their influence to halt the movement to give
the territory its independence. He was not alone in this fear.
Both the assembly and the Philippine commission, where
Americans wielded considerable power, opposed free trade
between the United States and the Philippines.47
Ocampo concluded his address by challenging the
House to vote down the free trade provision in Payne–Aldrich, proving to the world that it was not merely trying
to exploit the Philippines. Only after the Philippines won
its independence would free trade “be more advantageous
to both countries,” he said before closing with one last
ultimatum. If Congress really wanted to open free trade with
the Pacific, it should first vote to free the islands. “In this way
the American people will sanctify the noble work of liberating
the Philippines as it liberated Cuba and other countries.”
Ocampo’s remarks earned him a round of applause.48
A few weeks later he doubled down. “This free-trade
proposition is a case of life and death with us,” he told the
press. “The ambition of the Filipinos to live an independent
life is one which is undeniable and persistent, and any
measure tending to oppose it would only stir the people of
the islands and operate to prevent the development of a better
feeling between Americans and Filipinos.” Reaching back
two centuries, Ocampo contrasted America’s past against
Congress’s reluctance. “Surely in the land of Washington,
Jefferson, and Adams it can be permitted us to express the
wish that we may be allowed to govern ourselves. It ought to
be understood that in the centuries of protest against the rule
of Spain we were not merely trying to throw off one foreign
yoke to go under another.”49
Despite Ocampo’s strong words, Congress approved the
unique tariff schedule that gave U.S. businesses virtually
unlimited access to Philippine markets. Payne–Aldrich
became law on August 5, 1909. But in an effort to help
soften the blow to the islands’ economy, President Taft,
the Insular Bureau, and Resident Commissioner Legarda
crafted a separate bill (H.R. 9135) adjusting certain rates to
generate revenue for the Philippines.50 It, too, became law
in early August, but it is unclear what role Ocampo had
in its passage. In fact, by the time the House voted on the
revenue bill’s final passage, Ocampo was already a lameduck
Resident Commissioner.51
A few months earlier, in mid-May, Manuel L. Quezon,
a leader in the Philippine assembly and a member of the
Partido Nacionalista, was elected to replace Ocampo in
Washington.52 Cabling Ocampo the day of Quezon’s
confirmation, Sergio Osmeña, the assembly’s speaker,
expressed his regret at having to break the bad news.
He wished Ocampo a safe trip home and thanked him
for his “brilliant work” on Capitol Hill.53 There were
conflicting reports about whether Ocampo was shocked and
disappointed by his loss, but, regardless, the Manila Times
reported that political forces beyond his control dictated
the outcome. A likely theory had it that the Progresistas,
confident they could flip Quezon’s seat in the assembly if he
was in Washington, threw him their votes just to get him out
of Manila.54 Ocampo, accompanied by his secretary Antonio
Escamilla, left DC for San Francisco on August 11, 1909.
He planned to set sail home for the final time as Resident
Commissioner six days later.55
After returning to Manila, Ocampo won election to the
second Philippine legislature and served in the assembly
starting in October 1910, continuing his push for Philippine
nationhood. He died of pneumonia on February 5, 1925.56
View Record in the Biographical Directory of the U.S. Congress
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