Minister’s Book Examines UU Ties to Imperialism during U.S. Colonization of Hawaiʻi, the Philippines

While some religious liberals may want to believe that our ancestors in faith were always—or at least usually—on “the right side of history,” Rev. Frederic Muir’s new book is a powerful reminder that the truth is not so simple.

Muir’s book, Benevolent Intentions: Decolonizing the Religious Liberal Imperial Mind, an American Story, examines a period of UU history that is “difficult knowledge,” involving the violent United States colonization of Hawaiʻi and the Philippines. Muir focuses on the role played by Unitarians—including leaders such as U.S. President William Howard Taft—in carrying out the imperial project and explores how liberalism and imperialism came to be deeply intertwined.

In an interview with UU World, Muir shares his insight on this oft-overlooked history, and how we can pursue the “deconstructing and decolonizing” of harmful values, such as individualism and exceptionalism, in our own communities.

Muir is minister emeritus of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Annapolis, Maryland. He has authored/edited five books, including Maglipay Universalist: A Short History of the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Philippines.

Answers have been lightly edited for length.

What inspired you to write Benevolent Intentions, and what is your personal connection to the material?

After completing my 1990 Doctor of Ministry dissertation—later published as A Reason for Hope—my advisors urged me to test my thesis, grounded in liberation theology, by engaging with Unitarian Universalists in the Global South. This was no simple task, since then, as now, most UU communities were concentrated in the Global North and shaped by Western Enlightenment traditions. I recalled hearing of UU congregations in the Philippines, though I knew little about them. This was before the internet, so making a connection was challenging. Yet within months, I was on Negros Island, meeting members of the UU Church of the Philippines (UUCP). Not long after my return home, I was invited to serve as the UUA’s “ambassador” to the UUCP, a role I now share with the Rev. Joan Javier-Duval, settled minister of our congregation in Montpelier, Vermont.

I set as a goal reading to deepen my understanding of the UUCP and of the Philippines itself. In 2000, this work culminated in the publication of Maglipay Universalist: A Short History of the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Philippines. As I explored new topics, the proverbial “dots” of insight began to connect. Before long—actually, over many years—those connections led me to uncover the ways that Unitarians and Universalists were entangled in our nation’s foreign imperial era—an era of colonization abroad that paralleled the domestic imperialism of the “Indian Wars” and the genocide of Indigenous nations.

The narrative of Benevolent Intentions is, at its heart, an American one—an unexplored and untold Unitarian Universalist story. I have been drawn to the question of why and how these faith ancestors felt justified in supporting colonization, even as some limited UU resistance emerged (which I also recount). These questions continue to intrigue and compel me, for I believe they hold deep relevance for us today as UUs.

How would you describe the motivations of the religious liberals who helped colonize Hawaiʻi and the Philippines? What good did they think they were accomplishing, and how did they justify it to themselves?

In Benevolent Intentions, I make the case that liberal religion and the democratic spirit were deeply intertwined in the early years of our nation. Many UU imperialists saw themselves as missionaries for a “gospel of democracy,” a phrase I ground in sociologist Robert Bellah’s notion of American civil religion.

Alongside a commitment to spread democracy—a frequent justification for imperial ventures—other forces were at work. The year 1893 was pivotal: the U.S. entered a severe four-year depression. Business leaders sought access to Asian markets, and the Philippines offered proximity and promise, and Hawaiʻi added a vital mid-Pacific refueling station for merchant vessels and the U.S. Navy. The Hawaiʻian queen was overthrown with leadership from the American ambassador. Some believed that the U.S. joining the European-led “imperial club” might restore economic stability and global standing.

Why did religious liberals think it was acceptable—even moral—to colonize foreign nations such as Hawaiʻi, Philippines, Guam, Cuba, and Puerto Rico? Again and again, I found the same pattern. Key figures framed colonization in moral terms insisting it was the responsible thing to do. A common refrain was: “We didn’t want these new ‘possessions,’ but now that we have them, we have a responsibility to do the best we can.”

Two factors were critical in shaping so-called “benevolent intentions,” factors that reinforced one

 another as two sides of the same coin: eugenics and natural selection. Across the UU landscape—from corporate assemblies to clergy, from our publishing houses to seminary classrooms—support for eugenics and eugenics-inspired causes was widespread. Some of this was rooted in a misunderstanding and misuse of Darwin’s theory of natural selection, which UUs embraced soon after Darwin’s On the Origin of Species was published. Like many others, UUs also spoke about a “survival of the fittest,” a phrase coined not by Darwin, but the English polymath Herbert Spencer. With benevolent intentions, many UUs assumed a “fittest’s” authority—an authority with a racist, white privilege foundation—to decide the futures of those judged “less fit”—a hubris that has proven difficult to completely dismantle. In Hawai‘i and the Philippines, indigenous people were labeled as “savages.” What better way, some thought, to fulfill William E. Channing’s vision of human perfection than to colonize, educate, and uplift?

We live in a moment when powerful government officials are trying to push a sanitized version of American history. What uncomfortable truths does your book bring to light, and why is it important to confront them?

I describe this repression of uncomfortable truths as “disremembering.” Disremembering and revisionism are never neutral; they are among the earliest steps that legitimize authoritarian power, justify retribution, and marginalize and minoritize those who seek to preserve and share historical truth.

As I wrote my book, I couldn’t ignore the dangers before us. The words spoken and the actions taken today are not merely reminiscent of, but often identical to, those of our nation’s leaders during the era of U.S. imperialism—and, to my dismay, some of our Unitarian and Universalist ancestors. The most alarming—but not surprising—was our support of eugenics.

When I shared these stories with friends and colleagues, no one questioned the evidence or denied the history. Yet some asked why I wanted to share it: “It’s such a negative story. Maybe it’s best to leave it buried,” several said.

But what are the consequences of burying uncomfortable truths? Here are a few from our UU history:

• AUA President Sam Eliot believed one way to attract new members was by promoting books that newcomers might find appealing. To that end, Eliot recommended that Beacon Press publish works by David Starr Jordan, a Unitarian and leading advocate of eugenics and immigrant restriction. Beacon supported Jordan writing nineteen books—one of which has been reprinted on a neo-Nazi website.
• Unitarian and Universalist clergy entered sermon contests sponsored by the American Eugenics Society, and their sermons were recognized as among the best.
• Universalist ethics professor and social justice activist Clarence Skinner—for whom Skinner House Books is named—endorsed eugenics in four of his books, two of them published by the Universalist Publishing house, Murray Press.
• The Immigrant Restriction League (IRL) was founded by three Harvard students who were Unitarians. At the time, the IRL was the leading anti-immigrant organization in the U.S.

Confronting this legacy reminds us that as UUs and as Americans, disremembering is not a way forward. We are reminded to weigh our words and deeds with care, and to resist promoting values and policies that wound and destroy, instead striving to heal and make whole.

You write that religious liberals were not just participants in American imperial projects but held leadership roles at a remarkably high rate. What were some of these leadership roles, and how did the people holding them facilitate colonization?

In 1821, John Coffin Jones Jr. was the first U.S. diplomat to Hawaiʻi, and the first of three Unitarian or Universalists to fill this post. In 1850, Luther Severance was the second. Other religious liberals had roles in the U.S.-Hawai‘i relationship, but it was John L. Stevens who fulfilled the imperial ambitions of his predecessors. A Universalist minister educated at the Waterville (Maine) Liberal Institute for the Universalist Ministry, Stevens served congregations in Northern New England for ten years before being appointed Minister to Hawai‘i in 1889 (the U.S. didn’t use the title of “Ambassador”).

Stevens played a central role in the 1893 coup d’état there, collaborating with Western landowners. He called for troops from the USS Boston to be positioned outside the queen’s palace, effectively imprisoning her. Shortly after, he raised the American flag and requested of President Harrison that Hawai‘i be named a U.S. protectorate, setting the stage for annexation. While Harrison favored annexation, it was newly elected President Cleveland who removed Stevens of his office following a congressional investigation. A century later, in 1993, Congress issued an “Apology Resolution,” acknowledging the illegal actions taken by our government.

In the Philippines, our faith ancestors were more numerous, and their impact—much like in Hawaiʻi—can still be felt today. Unitarian John Davis Long, former Massachusetts governor and member of Congress, was appointed U.S. Secretary of the Navy by President McKinley in 1897. When the battleship Maine, anchored in Havana, Cuba, harbor, suffered an explosion and sank, Spain—the colonial power in Cuba—was blamed. When the U.S. subsequently declared war on Spain, it was Secretary Long, working alongside Commodore George Dewey, who played a key role.

The most famous Unitarian you write about is undoubtedly William Howard Taft. How was Taft involved in the colonization of the Philippines?

When President McKinley called Taft to Washington, D.C., in January 1900, Taft assumed it was to offer him a seat on the Supreme Court. Instead, McKinley asked him to chair the Second Philippine Commission, with the strong possibility of becoming the first civilian governor of the islands. Taft accepted the job, became governor, and was later reappointed by President Theodore Roosevelt following McKinley’s assassination.

He was later offered the post of Secretary of War, a cabinet position that would see the new Insular Governor reporting to Taft, allowing him to continue exercising influence over the archipelago.

Taft’s final position of influence over the Philippines came when he was appointed Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court in 1921, where he participated in rulings that shaped Filipino trade and taxation. And in 1927, he joined Unitarian Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes and the majority in Buck v. Bell, the infamous eugenics case that sanctioned forced sterilization—a case that led to more than 70,000 procedures.

You observe that individualism and exceptionalism played an important role in religious liberals’ colonial activity. How did these two forces animate religious liberals in the Philippines and Hawai‘i? And how might these forces still affect us as religious liberals today?

These questions lie at the heart of my work. One of my deepest concerns, as we witness the disremembering of a fuller U.S. historical narrative, is that we risk losing sight of a fundamental paradox that has shaped our country: How did a nation born in revolution against colonization then flip the script to colonizing Black bodies through slavery, subjugating the people of Indigenous nations across North America, and occupying and colonizing foreign lands abroad? And for UUs, how were we involved?

For religious liberals who supported—and in some cases led—international imperial occupations, their rationale rested in a tangled mix: a devotion to rights-based individualism over gifts-based individuality; a distortion of Darwin’s natural selection into Spencer’s survival of the fittest; and an exceptionalism cloaked in the language of “benevolent intention.” This deadly mix shaped a UU hubris that rationalized and justified a legacy that we might like to disremember but cannot.

You write that, “The deconstructing and decolonizing of the religious liberal’s imperial mind is overdue.” What do you see as some important steps in that process of decolonizing and deconstructing? And how can readers apply what they learn from the book in their own lives and communities?

We have been given an opportunity to reconsider the values that shaped—and in many ways justified—the colonial mindset of religious liberals. That opportunity came just two years ago when, after years of study and discernment, our General Assembly voted to adopt new language describing the purposes and values of our faith. For the first time in our history, we placed “Love” at the center.

Article II of the amended Bylaws and Rules names one of the ways this transformative, liberating Love must act: through “healing historic injustices.” For me, UUs’ participation in our nation’s imperial era is such an injustice—one in need of repair through the work of liberating Love. While I cannot say precisely what this healing will look like, I believe it is time for us to begin the work together.

There are resources to guide us. One is the “GO REPAIR” model, a process toward reckoning that I outline in Appendix B of my book. “GO REPAIR” is a mnemonic: Gather, Organize, Research, Explore, Personalize, Action, Incarnate, Renew. Taken together, these steps offer a pathway for an organization, a congregation, a family, even an individual to face and speak the truth of their past and move forward.

Another resource is “Wider Still,” a study guide that brings a global lens to many of the themes and recommendations in Widening the Circle of Concern: Report of the UUA Commission on Institutional Change. Those who engage this guide will find opportunities for reflection on theology, leadership, partnership, and reparations and other issues found in our global work.

To purchase Benevolent Intentions, order it from your favorite bookseller, the publisher, or email the author directly for a discounted price.