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Massacre in the Clouds: An American Atrocity and the Erasure of History
In this “forensic, unflinching, devastating work of historical recovery” (Sathnam Sanghera), Bud Dajo—an American atrocity bigger than Wounded Knee or My Lai, yet today largely forgotten—is revealed, thanks to the rediscovery of a single photograph.
In March 1906, American soldiers on the island of Jolo in the southern Philippines surrounded and killed 1000 local men, women, and children, known as Moros, on top of an extinct volcano. The so-called ‘Battle of Bud Dajo’ was hailed as a triumph over an implacable band of dangerous savages, a “brilliant feat of arms” according to President Theodore Roosevelt. Some contemporaries, including W.E.B. Du Bois and Mark Twain, saw the massacre for what it was, but they were the exception and the U.S. military authorities successfully managed to bury the story. Despite the fact that the slaughter of Moros had been captured on camera, the memory of the massacre soon disappeared from the historical record.
In Massacre in the Clouds, Kim A. Wagner meticulously recovers the history of a forgotten atrocity and the remarkable photograph that exposed its grim logic. His vivid, unsparing account of the massacre—which claimed hundreds more lives than Wounded Knee and My Lai combined—reveals the extent to which practices of colonial warfare and violence, derived from European imperialism, were fully embraced by Americans with catastrophic results.
In March 1906, American soldiers on the island of Jolo in the southern Philippines surrounded and killed 1000 local men, women, and children, known as Moros, on top of an extinct volcano. The so-called ‘Battle of Bud Dajo’ was hailed as a triumph over an implacable band of dangerous savages, a “brilliant feat of arms” according to President Theodore Roosevelt. Some contemporaries, including W.E.B. Du Bois and Mark Twain, saw the massacre for what it was, but they were the exception and the U.S. military authorities successfully managed to bury the story. Despite the fact that the slaughter of Moros had been captured on camera, the memory of the massacre soon disappeared from the historical record.
In Massacre in the Clouds, Kim A. Wagner meticulously recovers the history of a forgotten atrocity and the remarkable photograph that exposed its grim logic. His vivid, unsparing account of the massacre—which claimed hundreds more lives than Wounded Knee and My Lai combined—reveals the extent to which practices of colonial warfare and violence, derived from European imperialism, were fully embraced by Americans with catastrophic results.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published May 7, 2024
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About the author
Kim A. Wagner
11 books21 followersKim Ati Wagner is a Danish-British historian of colonial India and the British Empire at Queen Mary University of London.
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
March 17, 2024
Have you ever read a book where you agree with the general premise, but you end up disliking the presentation? That is where I was with Kim Wagner's Massacre in the Clouds. The book is billed as the story of the Battle of Bud Dajo in the Philippines in 1906. It is about that but it is also a screed against American imperialism. In fact, Wagner seems to realize this as he even says his book is not "anti-American" but "anti-lie." This struck me as a reader because when you have to state this outright, then perhaps your narrative is a bit too heavy handed.
And I found this all very heavy handed. I personally get very distracted when the author is beating me over the head with their point of view. Criticizing America is not a problem for me if you tell me a fully realized story and prove your point. For example, please see my reviews for Patrick Winn's Narcotopia or Nick Tabor's Africatown. Both books are very critical of American policies but the authors prove that by focusing on the story they are telling. They flesh out their characters, both good and bad, and allow the reader to understand the author's point of view instead of telling them how to think.
This review was hard for me because, like I said, I agree with the general premise. Bud Dajo was a massacre along the likes of My Lai. Leonard Wood sucked and shouldn't have a military base named after him. However, Wagner seems to dismiss anything which might conflict with his point of view. Again, the problem is not that what Wagner thinks is necessarily wrong, it's that he dismisses anything which doesn't fit his narrative instead of clearly disproving it for the reader.
I found myself distracted by wondering what I wasn't being told or what avenue wasn't being analyzed. For example, Wagner points out a specific point where General Pershing takes over, finds himself in a similar situation to Bud Dajo, and chooses another plan of action than the one Wood chose. Pershing explicitly states he will not handle it like it was before. Immediately, Wagner moves onto lambasting Pershing for other things he did in the Philippines. I had to go back and reread because I found myself wondering, "Well, why? Why did Pershing act differently here? Was he a different person than Wood? Was he just being more politically astute? Were his enemies acting differently?" I found myself distracted by side questions often as this was only one example.
Another problem is that Wagner repeatedly tied Bud Dajo to greater American imperialism. It's Wagner's book and that's his prerogative. However, the synopsis for this book is pretty specific that it is about Bud Dajo. This is not a long book and a not insignificant part of it is about American and European imperialism and other massacres like Wounded Knee and My Lai. I felt Bud Dajo's story deserved more focus. It felt like a lot of detail was glossed over to discuss imperialism.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and PublicAffairs.)
And I found this all very heavy handed. I personally get very distracted when the author is beating me over the head with their point of view. Criticizing America is not a problem for me if you tell me a fully realized story and prove your point. For example, please see my reviews for Patrick Winn's Narcotopia or Nick Tabor's Africatown. Both books are very critical of American policies but the authors prove that by focusing on the story they are telling. They flesh out their characters, both good and bad, and allow the reader to understand the author's point of view instead of telling them how to think.
This review was hard for me because, like I said, I agree with the general premise. Bud Dajo was a massacre along the likes of My Lai. Leonard Wood sucked and shouldn't have a military base named after him. However, Wagner seems to dismiss anything which might conflict with his point of view. Again, the problem is not that what Wagner thinks is necessarily wrong, it's that he dismisses anything which doesn't fit his narrative instead of clearly disproving it for the reader.
I found myself distracted by wondering what I wasn't being told or what avenue wasn't being analyzed. For example, Wagner points out a specific point where General Pershing takes over, finds himself in a similar situation to Bud Dajo, and chooses another plan of action than the one Wood chose. Pershing explicitly states he will not handle it like it was before. Immediately, Wagner moves onto lambasting Pershing for other things he did in the Philippines. I had to go back and reread because I found myself wondering, "Well, why? Why did Pershing act differently here? Was he a different person than Wood? Was he just being more politically astute? Were his enemies acting differently?" I found myself distracted by side questions often as this was only one example.
Another problem is that Wagner repeatedly tied Bud Dajo to greater American imperialism. It's Wagner's book and that's his prerogative. However, the synopsis for this book is pretty specific that it is about Bud Dajo. This is not a long book and a not insignificant part of it is about American and European imperialism and other massacres like Wounded Knee and My Lai. I felt Bud Dajo's story deserved more focus. It felt like a lot of detail was glossed over to discuss imperialism.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and PublicAffairs.)
July 25, 2025
The scene depicted in the photograph is harrowing. At the center of it is a trench filled with the bodies of dozens of people, which appear to have been rolled or otherwise dumped indifferently inside it. Draped on the edge are more bodies in the process of being added to the pile of humans. Surrounding the pit are over two dozen men in crumpled and dirty clothing wearing battered campaign hats and carrying rifles and shotguns. Most of the men are looking at the camera, while the rest stare off into the distance. All of them are casually ignoring the bodies at their feet.
The photograph is one of the few surviving images of the aftermath of the battle of Bud Dajo. It was there, on a mountain on Jolo Island in the southern Philippines in March 1906, that a force of American soldiers and Marines, along with members of the Philippine Constabulary, slaughtered hundreds of Moro men, women, and children who were accused of resisting American rule in the colony. Yet despite the initial controversy stirred by news of the massacre and a death toll that combined exceeded that of similar massacres at Wounded Knee and My Lai, the one at Bud Dajo has faded from national awareness. In an effort to address this, Kim Wagner uses the photograph as a portal into the past, using its history to provide an unsparing account of the events surrounding the massacre, one situated within the context of imperial policy and the racial assumptions Americans held towards the populations they dominated.
The Moros’ challenge was hardly a new one to the imperial powers ruling the Philippines. Though nominally under Spanish rule, Wagner explains that the Moro had long maintained a stubborn resistance to their authority. While the growing Western presence in the region had constrained Moro piracy and seaborne trade by the end of the 19th century, the long struggle against Spanish domination had only reinforced their religious and cultural identity. When the United States found itself battling Emilio Aguinaldo’s Filipino independence movement after their takeover in 1898, they preferred to come to terms with the local sultan, Jamalul Kiram II, than to expand the war in their new acquisitions. As long as the conflict against Aguinaldo’s forces continued, the status quo remained in place.
That changed as Americans began to take stock of their new acquisitions after Aguinaldo’s surrender. As the new colonial administration started surveying and cataloguing their new acquisition, the Moros grew concerned that these activities were precursors of a more sustained effort to assert the presence of the colonial state. This effort to collect statistical and geographic data did not extend to any effort to better understand the Moros themselves, which only added to the problem. Among the best parts of the book is Wagner’s explanation of the role played in events by juramentado, or parang sabil, a custom among the Moro people of targeted attacks against perceived enemies. What was a carefully orchestrated practice driven by a number of cultural and social factors was interpreted by Americans as spontaneous, religiously-driven fits of violent madness. This reinforced American perceptions of the Moro as “savages,” thus justifying efforts to control them.
And nobody proved more eager to make such efforts than Leonard Wood, who serves as the villain of Wagner’s narrative. As the recently-appointed governor of the Moro Province, the politically ambitious army officer was eager to make an example of the Moro and earn laurels that would benefit his career. Over the course of 1903 and into the spring of 1904, Wood’s forces conducted military operations against one of the Moro chiefs, declaring upon his death that the Moro “question” had been solved and that the population had been pacified. While this was far from the case, such assumptions increased his motivation to deal with additional outbreaks quickly and severely.
Despite Wood’s assessment, military operations in the region continued into 1905. Resistance to American rule was fueled by the introduction of a cedula tax, a type of poll tax that was extremely unpopular among the Moro. Some who refused to pay the tax sought refuge on Bud Dajo, creating an encampment that grew as more fled from American military operations on Jolo. While the district governor, Hugh L. Scott, sought a peaceful solution via negotiation, Wood’s promotion to head the Philippine Division, which would make him the senior commander of American forces in the colony, motivated him to wrap up the situation before assuming his new post. Taking advantage of a recent mobilization of forces for an aborted military expedition to China, Wood decided to launch an all-out effort to remove the Moros on the mountain.
Wagner spends nearly a third of the book detailing the U.S. military’s campaign on the mountain. It’s an admirably meticulous reconstruction of confused events that bogs down his narrative, yet he argues that the destruction of the Moros was driven not any frustration with chasing down their elusive enemy but by Wood’s plan to teach the Moros a “lesson.” He connects the mindset shaping the officers’ attitudes in this regard both to the tradition of the Indian Wars, of which most of whom were veterans, and the example of European colonial warfare to which they looked for a model. From this they drew the conclusion that the slaughter of hundreds of Moros would encourage the rest of them to respect American rule.
That the soldiers wrote openly to their families about their actions and even sent postcards made from photographs taken in the aftermath suggests that they felt little shame about their actions. Nevertheless, despite Wood’s efforts to manage perceptions of the massacre – including a belated attempt to destroy the photograph at the center of Wagner’s narrative – news of it sparked outrage among many in the United States. Here Wagner’s lack of familiarity with American history proves a weakness, as he misses the opportunity to examine as fully as he might have the perceptions of the event from the context of contemporary attitudes towards race. The incongruity of notorious segregationist John Sharp Williams’s criticism of the massacre goes unmentioned, as does the connections between the postcards of the massacre sent by the soldiers and similar ones from that era used to celebrate lynchings in the South.
This is unfortunate, as a more in-depth analysis of such attitudes might have altered Wagner’s conclusion that the partisan shape the debate took and the successful weathering of the crisis by the Roosevelt administration were why it vanished from Americans’ memory. Yet this does not diminish what Wagner has accomplished with this book. Carefully researched and painstakingly recounted, it offers a valuable account of the Bud Dajo massacre, one that serves as a powerful critique of the follies and failings of American imperialism. If nothing else, those who find similarities within its pages to later American overseas disasters might better appreciate the old adage about those who do not remember history being doomed to repeat it.
The photograph is one of the few surviving images of the aftermath of the battle of Bud Dajo. It was there, on a mountain on Jolo Island in the southern Philippines in March 1906, that a force of American soldiers and Marines, along with members of the Philippine Constabulary, slaughtered hundreds of Moro men, women, and children who were accused of resisting American rule in the colony. Yet despite the initial controversy stirred by news of the massacre and a death toll that combined exceeded that of similar massacres at Wounded Knee and My Lai, the one at Bud Dajo has faded from national awareness. In an effort to address this, Kim Wagner uses the photograph as a portal into the past, using its history to provide an unsparing account of the events surrounding the massacre, one situated within the context of imperial policy and the racial assumptions Americans held towards the populations they dominated.
The Moros’ challenge was hardly a new one to the imperial powers ruling the Philippines. Though nominally under Spanish rule, Wagner explains that the Moro had long maintained a stubborn resistance to their authority. While the growing Western presence in the region had constrained Moro piracy and seaborne trade by the end of the 19th century, the long struggle against Spanish domination had only reinforced their religious and cultural identity. When the United States found itself battling Emilio Aguinaldo’s Filipino independence movement after their takeover in 1898, they preferred to come to terms with the local sultan, Jamalul Kiram II, than to expand the war in their new acquisitions. As long as the conflict against Aguinaldo’s forces continued, the status quo remained in place.
That changed as Americans began to take stock of their new acquisitions after Aguinaldo’s surrender. As the new colonial administration started surveying and cataloguing their new acquisition, the Moros grew concerned that these activities were precursors of a more sustained effort to assert the presence of the colonial state. This effort to collect statistical and geographic data did not extend to any effort to better understand the Moros themselves, which only added to the problem. Among the best parts of the book is Wagner’s explanation of the role played in events by juramentado, or parang sabil, a custom among the Moro people of targeted attacks against perceived enemies. What was a carefully orchestrated practice driven by a number of cultural and social factors was interpreted by Americans as spontaneous, religiously-driven fits of violent madness. This reinforced American perceptions of the Moro as “savages,” thus justifying efforts to control them.
And nobody proved more eager to make such efforts than Leonard Wood, who serves as the villain of Wagner’s narrative. As the recently-appointed governor of the Moro Province, the politically ambitious army officer was eager to make an example of the Moro and earn laurels that would benefit his career. Over the course of 1903 and into the spring of 1904, Wood’s forces conducted military operations against one of the Moro chiefs, declaring upon his death that the Moro “question” had been solved and that the population had been pacified. While this was far from the case, such assumptions increased his motivation to deal with additional outbreaks quickly and severely.
Despite Wood’s assessment, military operations in the region continued into 1905. Resistance to American rule was fueled by the introduction of a cedula tax, a type of poll tax that was extremely unpopular among the Moro. Some who refused to pay the tax sought refuge on Bud Dajo, creating an encampment that grew as more fled from American military operations on Jolo. While the district governor, Hugh L. Scott, sought a peaceful solution via negotiation, Wood’s promotion to head the Philippine Division, which would make him the senior commander of American forces in the colony, motivated him to wrap up the situation before assuming his new post. Taking advantage of a recent mobilization of forces for an aborted military expedition to China, Wood decided to launch an all-out effort to remove the Moros on the mountain.
Wagner spends nearly a third of the book detailing the U.S. military’s campaign on the mountain. It’s an admirably meticulous reconstruction of confused events that bogs down his narrative, yet he argues that the destruction of the Moros was driven not any frustration with chasing down their elusive enemy but by Wood’s plan to teach the Moros a “lesson.” He connects the mindset shaping the officers’ attitudes in this regard both to the tradition of the Indian Wars, of which most of whom were veterans, and the example of European colonial warfare to which they looked for a model. From this they drew the conclusion that the slaughter of hundreds of Moros would encourage the rest of them to respect American rule.
That the soldiers wrote openly to their families about their actions and even sent postcards made from photographs taken in the aftermath suggests that they felt little shame about their actions. Nevertheless, despite Wood’s efforts to manage perceptions of the massacre – including a belated attempt to destroy the photograph at the center of Wagner’s narrative – news of it sparked outrage among many in the United States. Here Wagner’s lack of familiarity with American history proves a weakness, as he misses the opportunity to examine as fully as he might have the perceptions of the event from the context of contemporary attitudes towards race. The incongruity of notorious segregationist John Sharp Williams’s criticism of the massacre goes unmentioned, as does the connections between the postcards of the massacre sent by the soldiers and similar ones from that era used to celebrate lynchings in the South.
This is unfortunate, as a more in-depth analysis of such attitudes might have altered Wagner’s conclusion that the partisan shape the debate took and the successful weathering of the crisis by the Roosevelt administration were why it vanished from Americans’ memory. Yet this does not diminish what Wagner has accomplished with this book. Carefully researched and painstakingly recounted, it offers a valuable account of the Bud Dajo massacre, one that serves as a powerful critique of the follies and failings of American imperialism. If nothing else, those who find similarities within its pages to later American overseas disasters might better appreciate the old adage about those who do not remember history being doomed to repeat it.
September 22, 2024
This book was a bit hard to review. The five-star rating system is sometimes limiting. A 3.5 would have been accurate. I found the research to be excellent. I disagreed with the presentation of the conclusion the author draws from the research.
While there is no doubt that the battle fight was a massacre, however it should be reviewed in the context of the time and place. To me it seemed that the author portrayed the Moros at Bud Dajo as bad boy tax dodgers fighting imperialism. The Moros in fact are neither good nor bad. They are people who are a product of their time and place. Moros enslaved Filipinos and others. They were struggling to retain their homeland and save face. This last point was something the author made clear.
Ultimately, they resisted an overwhelming invading force and lost. It is notable that Wagner mentions the slaughter of Americans at Balangiga as only name and place. It is incorrectly compared to My Lai and Sand Creek where the inhabitants were defenseless and surrendering. The Moros at Bud Dajo were not defenseless, though were clearly outgunned and outnumbered. As to the photographs and trophies taken, while this is an ugly practice, it is common in warfare. Stacking skulls is no longer commonplace and seen as an atrocity today, it is hardly more horrifying than the ritual cannibalism of Māori warriors.
Not a bad book, but a flawed conclusion.
While there is no doubt that the battle fight was a massacre, however it should be reviewed in the context of the time and place. To me it seemed that the author portrayed the Moros at Bud Dajo as bad boy tax dodgers fighting imperialism. The Moros in fact are neither good nor bad. They are people who are a product of their time and place. Moros enslaved Filipinos and others. They were struggling to retain their homeland and save face. This last point was something the author made clear.
Ultimately, they resisted an overwhelming invading force and lost. It is notable that Wagner mentions the slaughter of Americans at Balangiga as only name and place. It is incorrectly compared to My Lai and Sand Creek where the inhabitants were defenseless and surrendering. The Moros at Bud Dajo were not defenseless, though were clearly outgunned and outnumbered. As to the photographs and trophies taken, while this is an ugly practice, it is common in warfare. Stacking skulls is no longer commonplace and seen as an atrocity today, it is hardly more horrifying than the ritual cannibalism of Māori warriors.
Not a bad book, but a flawed conclusion.
February 16, 2025
In March of 1906, American soldiers began a military operation on the island of Jolo. The mountain of Bud Dajo was being occupied by a large group of insurrectionist Moros, a collective name for the indigenous tribes from the island. The predominantly Muslim locals were apparently raiding farms surrounding the mountain and harboring fugitive criminals, so the colonial American government ordered them cleared out. For three days, the soldiers valiantly fought to the top of the mountain, overtook the insurgents' fortifications, and eventually managed to kill all 600 or so militants living on the mountain. What became known as the "Battle of Bud Daho" was a feather in the cap of every officer, soldier, and colonial governor involved, and was believed to help bring peace to a troubled region, while also illustrating the mighty capabilities of the US military.
That's the story the Army told, anyway. The real story is much less victorious. There weren't 600 Moro militants on the mountain, but over 1,600 men, women, and children who had fled previous military campaigns in the region. The "battle" left 18 American soldiers dead and around 50 wounded. There were no surviving Moros, save a few women and children. The rest were massacred by the artillery, machine guns, and savagery of the American soldiers.
Kim A. Wagner's chilling account of the Massacre at Bud Dajo is centered around one surviving photo from over a century ago: a photo of American soldiers posing heroically over a ditch filled to the brim with Moro bodies, with a dead woman and her infant right in the middle of the frame. Wagner uses that photo to illustrate not only the massacre itself, but the American response to it, and the larger context of colonial violence that this event was just a small part of. Exhaustively researched and sourced, this book was maddening to read. It doesn't take much digging to find the millions of skeletons in the US military's closets, but it's infuriating to read how people KNEW about it back then and simply did not care. After all, violence isn't the same when it's glorious white soldiers mowing down severely under-equipped brown people with guns and bombs; then it's a simple necessity of showing the savages who's the boss. That horrific photo I described was found in family photo albums of soldiers who were there, a trophy of American conquest that Teddy Roosevelt commended the commanders for.
Needless to say, this book is heavy, and will make you want to travel back in time and end the bloodlines of every bastard who climbed that mountain, especially the war photographer who deliberately staged the massacre photo. It's one of many tragedies in the stories of colonial violence though, and Wagner is careful to note that the actions of the Americans weren't exactly exceptional.
If I had any critique at all of this book, it's that Wagner includes an epilogue about his own trip to Bud Dajo that is just a tad indulgent in its descriptions. Everything before that epilogue is phenomenal though; Wagner is uncompromising in his condemnations of both the numerous systems that allowed this massacre to take place, but even contemporary historians who would try to contextualize the violence as "different times." It even manages to tie in the current state of the country with the past, as a warning that the United States has always been like this, even back then. Same as it ever was.
An excellent but sobering read. Highly recommended for anyone who despises America's long history of fucked up foreign policy.
That's the story the Army told, anyway. The real story is much less victorious. There weren't 600 Moro militants on the mountain, but over 1,600 men, women, and children who had fled previous military campaigns in the region. The "battle" left 18 American soldiers dead and around 50 wounded. There were no surviving Moros, save a few women and children. The rest were massacred by the artillery, machine guns, and savagery of the American soldiers.
Kim A. Wagner's chilling account of the Massacre at Bud Dajo is centered around one surviving photo from over a century ago: a photo of American soldiers posing heroically over a ditch filled to the brim with Moro bodies, with a dead woman and her infant right in the middle of the frame. Wagner uses that photo to illustrate not only the massacre itself, but the American response to it, and the larger context of colonial violence that this event was just a small part of. Exhaustively researched and sourced, this book was maddening to read. It doesn't take much digging to find the millions of skeletons in the US military's closets, but it's infuriating to read how people KNEW about it back then and simply did not care. After all, violence isn't the same when it's glorious white soldiers mowing down severely under-equipped brown people with guns and bombs; then it's a simple necessity of showing the savages who's the boss. That horrific photo I described was found in family photo albums of soldiers who were there, a trophy of American conquest that Teddy Roosevelt commended the commanders for.
Needless to say, this book is heavy, and will make you want to travel back in time and end the bloodlines of every bastard who climbed that mountain, especially the war photographer who deliberately staged the massacre photo. It's one of many tragedies in the stories of colonial violence though, and Wagner is careful to note that the actions of the Americans weren't exactly exceptional.
If I had any critique at all of this book, it's that Wagner includes an epilogue about his own trip to Bud Dajo that is just a tad indulgent in its descriptions. Everything before that epilogue is phenomenal though; Wagner is uncompromising in his condemnations of both the numerous systems that allowed this massacre to take place, but even contemporary historians who would try to contextualize the violence as "different times." It even manages to tie in the current state of the country with the past, as a warning that the United States has always been like this, even back then. Same as it ever was.
An excellent but sobering read. Highly recommended for anyone who despises America's long history of fucked up foreign policy.
May 8, 2024
Kim Wagner's Massacre In the Clouds: An American Atrocity and the Erasure of History is built on the adage a picture is worth a thousand words, something Wagner notes early in the introduction. But what is the picture? The picture depicts U.S. Soldiers posed around a corpse filled trench at the top of Mount Dajo on Jolo Islands, Philippines in the aftermath of a counterinsurgency campaign against the Muslim Moro people. This campaign, widely described as a massacre, killed over 1200 people, including women and children, took place in early March 1906. Word of its occurrence quickly reached the wider world and it was both condemned as a stain or nadir of American empire but also misreported and quickly faded from public view. Massacre In the Clouds tells the full history of this event, from Spanish and US attempts to control the island of Jolo, the rising of tensions between the Moros and the US, the timeline of the three day battle, to the reportage and machinations to end the discussion.
After the introduction that provides a broad overview, Wagner moves chronologically first detailing the history of imperial control of the Philippines. Focus then shifts to the history of Jolo as a conquered territory and the perceived need of military backed control. The Moros resisted abolition of (debt based) slavery, forced taxes and colonialist control, and were attacked through regular punitive campaigns. On the jungle island, Bud Dajo was seen as a place of refuge for the Moros, as its cratered peak offered a shelter space with water and had protected them during Spanish assaults. It was rule by the sword with the former Rough Rider and medal of honor holding General Leonard Wood serving in command.
Wagner elucidates the growing tensions, missed opportunities for de-escalation, and key factors in the conflict of cultures. It is a highly researched and, at times, over detailed work. It shows the United States, despite our foundational and ideological myths, acting as any other colonial power. Using our more advanced weaponry as an agent of control and as in other colonial campaigns, their usage as a method of slaughter. Machine guns and artillery were heavily used in the 'battle.' Genocidal wars were not new to the US, as demonstrated by the centuries long campaign to eradicate Native Americans, the late 19th and early 20th century also saw the British and German empires waging colonial campaigns against African peoples that were described as massacres (Battle of Omdurman) and genocides (Herero and Nama genocide).
While it was never forgotten, Wagner's work reasserts the massacre as an act of empire that should be as notorious as My Lai or Wounded Knee. The outrage was there, the Anti-Imperialism League, W.EB. Du Bois and Mark Twain were appalled and stated their views, though Twain was not as public about them. The legacy still lingers, in US military lore and symbols as well as in political criticism of the US by President Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines and the hate bating diatribes of Trump.
Recommended to readers or researchers of history; American Empire; Genocide studies or American politics.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
After the introduction that provides a broad overview, Wagner moves chronologically first detailing the history of imperial control of the Philippines. Focus then shifts to the history of Jolo as a conquered territory and the perceived need of military backed control. The Moros resisted abolition of (debt based) slavery, forced taxes and colonialist control, and were attacked through regular punitive campaigns. On the jungle island, Bud Dajo was seen as a place of refuge for the Moros, as its cratered peak offered a shelter space with water and had protected them during Spanish assaults. It was rule by the sword with the former Rough Rider and medal of honor holding General Leonard Wood serving in command.
Wagner elucidates the growing tensions, missed opportunities for de-escalation, and key factors in the conflict of cultures. It is a highly researched and, at times, over detailed work. It shows the United States, despite our foundational and ideological myths, acting as any other colonial power. Using our more advanced weaponry as an agent of control and as in other colonial campaigns, their usage as a method of slaughter. Machine guns and artillery were heavily used in the 'battle.' Genocidal wars were not new to the US, as demonstrated by the centuries long campaign to eradicate Native Americans, the late 19th and early 20th century also saw the British and German empires waging colonial campaigns against African peoples that were described as massacres (Battle of Omdurman) and genocides (Herero and Nama genocide).
While it was never forgotten, Wagner's work reasserts the massacre as an act of empire that should be as notorious as My Lai or Wounded Knee. The outrage was there, the Anti-Imperialism League, W.EB. Du Bois and Mark Twain were appalled and stated their views, though Twain was not as public about them. The legacy still lingers, in US military lore and symbols as well as in political criticism of the US by President Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines and the hate bating diatribes of Trump.
Recommended to readers or researchers of history; American Empire; Genocide studies or American politics.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
March 20, 2024
At the end of the Spanish-American War, the US obtained the Philippine Islands. The Islands had been fighting a war against the Spanish for many years and was hoping the US would grant them independence. But the US decided that the Islands weren’t civilized enough to go their own way. So the US would have to take over governing the Islands until they had been “civilized”.
From 1898 to 1903 there was a “War of Independence” that the Philippine’s lost natives lost. But in truth many of the islands in the south, especially the majority Muslims of the Sulu Island chain, and the large island of Mindanao, had never been pacified. The local natives were known as Moros who were very proud of their heritage.
The island of Jolo (pronounced Holo) was the closest of the Sulu Islands to Mindanao. The island was run by a number of native Sultans who had an accommodation with the US troops. The Troops had a small contingent at the capital (called Jolo) and their main job was to collect the local head tax.
A group of disaffected natives who resented the Americans refused to pay the tax. They set-up a fortified position in the caldera of an extinct volcano not very far from Jolo. The US soldiers tried to get them to come down, but the natives were adamant.
At a certain point the head of the Troops decided that the only way to get the natives off the mountain would be to take the area by force. This is where things get very bad because the fighters have their wives and children with them. Using artillery and high powered repeating rifles the Troops fought their way up to the top of them mountain.At this point the Troops just swept the natives and their families with overwhelming firepower killing almost everyone on the mountain.
They slaughtered over 1000 natives including woman and children. The Troops claimed that the woman fought with the men and used the children as shields.Not very different from “Wounded Knee” or “My Lai” everything was washed up as best could be and no one ever paid a price for what was done on the mountain.
From 1898 to 1903 there was a “War of Independence” that the Philippine’s lost natives lost. But in truth many of the islands in the south, especially the majority Muslims of the Sulu Island chain, and the large island of Mindanao, had never been pacified. The local natives were known as Moros who were very proud of their heritage.
The island of Jolo (pronounced Holo) was the closest of the Sulu Islands to Mindanao. The island was run by a number of native Sultans who had an accommodation with the US troops. The Troops had a small contingent at the capital (called Jolo) and their main job was to collect the local head tax.
A group of disaffected natives who resented the Americans refused to pay the tax. They set-up a fortified position in the caldera of an extinct volcano not very far from Jolo. The US soldiers tried to get them to come down, but the natives were adamant.
At a certain point the head of the Troops decided that the only way to get the natives off the mountain would be to take the area by force. This is where things get very bad because the fighters have their wives and children with them. Using artillery and high powered repeating rifles the Troops fought their way up to the top of them mountain.At this point the Troops just swept the natives and their families with overwhelming firepower killing almost everyone on the mountain.
They slaughtered over 1000 natives including woman and children. The Troops claimed that the woman fought with the men and used the children as shields.Not very different from “Wounded Knee” or “My Lai” everything was washed up as best could be and no one ever paid a price for what was done on the mountain.
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August 7, 2024At the turn of the 20th century, like so many otherwise clever men of his class, the English explorer Arnold Henry Savage Landor succumbed to the siren of race science. Fancying himself as something of a craniometrist, he pronounced the Muslim Moros of the Philippines morons, with their ‘flattened skulls’ and ‘stumpy, repulsive-looking hands, typical of criminals’. It was a perspective his American colleagues shared. Still, after colonising the Philippines in 1898, they had to tolerate the Moro chiefs of the south, if only on sufferance. The Spaniards had never succeeded in displacing the Moros, accepting a power-sharing arrangement. The Americans inherited this relationship.
This was the first time Americans were having to deal with Muslims on something resembling an equal footing, and it came with its attendant challenges. The racists had to swallow their pride, but so did the liberals: the Moros practised slavery. The Americans appealed to the Sultan of Sulu’s better instincts, but to no avail. ‘Slaves are a part of our property’, came the reply. All the same, the Philippines’ American governors made a serious attempt at ending the sale and murder of slaves in the early 1900s, much to the consternation of the Moro chiefs, one of whom asked: ‘If a Moro chief cannot kill a slave, what can he do? Can he drink water? Can he breathe air? Has he any rights at all?’
Then there were the rights the Americans had given themselves but didn’t want to extend to the Moros. Like the former, the latter were overfond of weapons, in their case swords and blades. But the benighted natives, the colonisers felt, weren’t enlightened enough for a Second Amendment of their own.
Read the rest of the review at https://www.historytoday.com/archive/...
Pratinav Anil teaches at St Edmund Hall, Oxford.
This was the first time Americans were having to deal with Muslims on something resembling an equal footing, and it came with its attendant challenges. The racists had to swallow their pride, but so did the liberals: the Moros practised slavery. The Americans appealed to the Sultan of Sulu’s better instincts, but to no avail. ‘Slaves are a part of our property’, came the reply. All the same, the Philippines’ American governors made a serious attempt at ending the sale and murder of slaves in the early 1900s, much to the consternation of the Moro chiefs, one of whom asked: ‘If a Moro chief cannot kill a slave, what can he do? Can he drink water? Can he breathe air? Has he any rights at all?’
Then there were the rights the Americans had given themselves but didn’t want to extend to the Moros. Like the former, the latter were overfond of weapons, in their case swords and blades. But the benighted natives, the colonisers felt, weren’t enlightened enough for a Second Amendment of their own.
Read the rest of the review at https://www.historytoday.com/archive/...
Pratinav Anil teaches at St Edmund Hall, Oxford.
February 9, 2025
The massacre of an estimated 1,200 Moros (men, women, and children) on Bud Dajo by U.S. soldiers was a gross atrocity. The justification to "exterminate" those that took refuge on the summit of Bud Dajo was suspected theft by two Moros, arson, and refusal to pay the taxes forced upon them. The U.S. military wanted to make a "clean cut" of collective punishment to deter future resistance to U.S. imperialism in the Philippines. The Americans treated the Moros as animals and religious fanatics. Just like every imperial power at the time, the Americans used overwhelming deadly force on native populations. The U.S. soldiers kept photos of the dead Moros, 5-6 stacked high in the trenches, as they stood above them as trophy shots and mailed them as post cards to friends and family. Weeks and months after, the American soldiers went up to the summit to pose for pictures amongst the skulls and bleached bones of those they slaughtered. This settler colonial violence that was carried out through American imperialism of the early 1900s exhibited the "virtues" of masculinity and portrayed the "white" race as a civilizing force. Early photographic technology was also a participant to this violence and its economy grew to capture what we would call atrocities today, but they saw it as American heroism. Much of the same language and rhetoric that justified such violence against "insurgents" can be seen today as well as the several messy attempts at downplaying, covering up, and erasing similar atrocities.
October 22, 2024
Kim Wagner gives us a sweeping scope of a historical atrocity that was quickly forgotten. We need to not forget nor repeat these types of events. So Kim dove in and researched this and put it in light compared to other events on the same type of scale. I agree with others that there is a heavy handed bias, regardless of how it's presented by the author, but once knowing that, I think that the history revealed paints a picture worth knowing, even if the author points out his views. These types of novels are always difficult to rate because on the one hand, it happened and we need to know the details, no matter how we, as a nation, look because of it. On the other hand, a picture is worth a thousand words, and up for interpretation of each individual, and authors usually try to explain their point of view or line of sight taken while writing. I appreciate the telling, as we need to know, not only our successes as a nation, but also our failures, so that we can improve and change our trajectory to a higher road. The truth will and should be revealed.
On another note, the events and details within are hard to read, and the people behind the decisions are hard to accept. I do recommend it though.
*I received a copy of this book from NetGalley. This review is my own opinion*
On another note, the events and details within are hard to read, and the people behind the decisions are hard to accept. I do recommend it though.
*I received a copy of this book from NetGalley. This review is my own opinion*
August 10, 2025
The First Battle of Bud Dajo, commonly referred to as the Bud Dajo Massacre or the Moro Crater Massacre, took place from March 5, 1906 to March 8, 1906. The United States Army and Marine Corps perpetrated this massacre against the Moro people of the Philippines. The Moro were a Muslim population, which tells you plenty about why they were targeted, in addition to political motivations. Somewhere between 800 and 900 Moro people were killed, including women and children. The United States suffered less than 100 injuries and less than 20 deaths, solidifying the fact that this was an execution of a group of people.
This book provided a lot of history and context for this conflict, which I appreciated greatly as I had never heard of it before. Now, more than ever, it is important to learn about United States history without the lens of exceptionalism. I thought the author did a great job on this book. I also like that I got in on sale on Audible and it got me through my commute to and from work last week.
This book provided a lot of history and context for this conflict, which I appreciated greatly as I had never heard of it before. Now, more than ever, it is important to learn about United States history without the lens of exceptionalism. I thought the author did a great job on this book. I also like that I got in on sale on Audible and it got me through my commute to and from work last week.
January 24, 2025
Massacre in the Clouds is a very well researched book. Kim Wagner even visits Jolo to research for this book. I feel very educated after reading it.
However. It comes across very anti-American. Wagner states at the beginning that this book is not anti-American. But it is continually thrown in the readers face about American Imperialism. While I have no problem with getting a different perspective or a different point of view. But a lot of this read like personal opinion.
Did a very good job of building up to the battle of Bud Dajo. But the reading was very slow. I found myself having to keep going back to the glossary for word checks. Took 100 pages to get to the meat and potatoes of the story. Slow read. For me anyway. Definitely didn’t have me eager to pick it back up. But glad I finished it.
However. It comes across very anti-American. Wagner states at the beginning that this book is not anti-American. But it is continually thrown in the readers face about American Imperialism. While I have no problem with getting a different perspective or a different point of view. But a lot of this read like personal opinion.
Did a very good job of building up to the battle of Bud Dajo. But the reading was very slow. I found myself having to keep going back to the glossary for word checks. Took 100 pages to get to the meat and potatoes of the story. Slow read. For me anyway. Definitely didn’t have me eager to pick it back up. But glad I finished it.
March 13, 2025
The best part of this book was definitely how well researched and cited it was. However, while I am glad to have read it the writing style wasn’t my cup of tea. I do think that the book was best in the run up to the actual “battle” and in its immediate aftermath, discussing the background of the Moro people/relationship with the American forces and then the attempts to suppress the news respectively. The actual action in the middle felt a little plodding and as other reviews have stated it did feel a little heavy handed and potentially anti American towards the end. This is not to sympathize with what happened or American imperialism, just that in some ways it felt like it was almost acting as if colonial violence was unique the the US and/or not a partially learned behavior.
All that said I am glad to have read it to help understand a bit more of the ongoing tensions between Mindinao/sulu and Manila as well as to shed light on such an awful chapter of our history.
All that said I am glad to have read it to help understand a bit more of the ongoing tensions between Mindinao/sulu and Manila as well as to shed light on such an awful chapter of our history.
May 30, 2025
"The image is not just evidence of a massacre -- in the way that we might consider a crime-scene photo --- but is itself an artifact of violence."
This piece would do well with more editing (e.g., chapters 7 to 10 felt too descriptive for me) but I did find it more illuminating than I had expected. There is much to be said about the structural aspects of violence (i.e., "an older tradition of settler violence coalesced with the formal doctrine of colonial warfare"), and how easy it is to isolate violence to certain episodes or certain individuals/groups, or even to simply reject the possibility of atrocity. I suppose the broader question to always ask is where the line that differentiates necessity from atrocity should be drawn, or whether that line should even drawn at all (or maybe we could consider not exercising military power for once).
This piece would do well with more editing (e.g., chapters 7 to 10 felt too descriptive for me) but I did find it more illuminating than I had expected. There is much to be said about the structural aspects of violence (i.e., "an older tradition of settler violence coalesced with the formal doctrine of colonial warfare"), and how easy it is to isolate violence to certain episodes or certain individuals/groups, or even to simply reject the possibility of atrocity. I suppose the broader question to always ask is where the line that differentiates necessity from atrocity should be drawn, or whether that line should even drawn at all (or maybe we could consider not exercising military power for once).
November 25, 2024
A massacre that has now been rediscovered after a photo of the event led to some investigative research.
I lisrened to the audiobook.
I could easily grasp the severity of the American attack on un-armed natives including women and children. Disgusting and sickening outright murder of innocents.
The attempt at cover up was predictable.
The slaughter was researched well and I appreciate that it has come to light.
I lisrened to the audiobook.
I could easily grasp the severity of the American attack on un-armed natives including women and children. Disgusting and sickening outright murder of innocents.
The attempt at cover up was predictable.
The slaughter was researched well and I appreciate that it has come to light.
November 30, 2024
A bit overbearing and repetitive at times with the infusions of the author's political standpoint. Nonetheless, this book is a well-researched and excellent retelling of the tragedy of Bud Dahu. Similar to the KLNI's Kuta Reh Massacre (in terms of scope, causes, timeframe, and later historical awareness), this incident deserves the additional historical recognition that Wagner brings. Glad to find more solid resources on the Tausug - US conflict through this book.
October 2, 2024
This is an important examination of America wrestling with Imperialism and its legacy of superiority in military. However, there were many times where I felt like the material was overly detailed or made the point so many times in the same way. What I appreciated was the impact one photo had on a century of politics.
April 25, 2025
I wasn’t aware of the Bud Dajo Massacre before reading this and I’m glad I read this book. This book is very thorough and well researched but I dislike the way it’s presented, it’s just kinda messy and I didn’t find the structure to be super engaging
August 13, 2024
Brilliant book. The author tells this in a straightforward way and comments on it with candor.
March 29, 2025
Really informative, but hard to read without getting angry. That might be the point.We need to learn from history, but it screams that we have not, and what is uncomfortable gets buried.
April 13, 2025
The more you know...
December 16, 2025
This is an excellent account of the massacre and how America went about forgetting about it. It addresses the racial politics that drove both outcomes and puts it into an interesting context.
December 18, 2024
The story of the massacre of 600 unarmed men, women and children in Bud Dajo, Jolo, Phillipines in 1906 by the American military. Very good book. Dry in parts but compelling. Glad I read it.
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