Rethinking the Native Hawaiian Past

Kanalu G. Terry Young

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2014
• Topic: History
• eBook ISBN:
  9781317776680
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: History

This innovative study challenges scholars to rethink standard approaches to the study of Hawai'ian history by proposing a Native-centered historiography based on concepts derived from the Hawai'ian language and oral traditions. Historical approaches to traditional Hawai'i have tended to focus on the Ali'i Nui (high chiefs) as leaders of a stratified society, and on the decisions they made in the context of the arrival of the haole (foreigners). This study traces the history of the Kaukau Ali'i, the chiefly servers, who were the lesser-ranked relatives of the high chiefs. The Kaukau Ali'i performed a variety of tasks-ranging from childcare to redistributive service to the provision of battlefield support-within this service relationship which structured the flow of daily life. Kanalu Young, himself a descendent of the Kaukau Ali'i, argues that the Native Hawai'ian past can be better understood by approaches which are grounded in concepts derived from Native Hawai'ian language and oral tradition. By shifting the focus of historical study from the high chiefs to the chiefly servers, new light is shed on the history of the traditional Hawai'ian polity. Bibliography. Index

CHAPTER ONE

“Ka Mana‘o o ka Wā Mamua”

(The Meaning of the Past)

This chapter discusses the ideas, issues, and sentiments that have most influenced the doing of this mo‘olelo. It is important that the reader understand why the term mo‘olelo best describes this work. It is also important to appreciate the reasons for not using the term history, even in its countless number of possible definitions. History as a Western academic discipline in any of its forms or numerous schools of thought does not capture the deeper meaning of what is expressed in these pages as mo‘olelo.

This is so because influences on this work include personal life experience and observations, information other than primary and secondary sources about the kaukau ali‘i as evidence. Events in my lifetime have challenged Native Hawaiians to look to the past for solace and guidance. The term mo‘olelo more accurately describes what is felt and thought about ancient times. Mo‘olelo as text category allows for the flow of this account to be unabashedly personal and emotional as well as scholarly.

Some events from the past had negative consequences with attendant legacies of oppression that continue to marginalize the Native people of Hawa‘i to this day. And the adverse effects of these events must be dealt with and overcome to truly self-determine the future of the ‘Ōiwi Maoli in our own homeland. This work applies the principle of self-determination to a particular problem: how to conceive of the past, how best to interpret its meaning from an ‘Ōiwi Maoli point of view and from that, how to make ‘Ōiwi Maoli values, beliefs, and practices in mo‘olelo relevant to contemporary life.

Another set of influences comes from the work of scholars who have either commented on the Native Hawaiian past or suggested an alternative strategy for appreciating the past as an object of study. They are authors whose ideas perked interest, encouraged inquiry, or in some way urged the development of thought about mo‘olelo as the product of haku.

Perhaps most influential has been the knowledge that the spiritual essence of ancestral tradition gives the past its meaning for descendant generations of Native Hawaiians. That spirit lives on in the ‘ano of those who choose to apply its substance and goodness to their work. The awareness that Hawaiian word meanings hold the essential spirit that entwines the here and now with times past is powerful. The events and characters from the past become signposts of identity and symbols of pride reestablished each time their descendants speak, chant, sing, or write in their honor.

One specific path for rethinking the Native Hawaiian past is to assert the idea that ‘Ōiwi Maoli are the indigenous people of Nā Kai ‘Ewalu (the Hawaiian Islands), not simply an earlier arrived immigrant group in Hawai‘i’s contemporary multiracial milieu. Reference to the ‘Ōiwi Maoli homeland as Nā Kai ‘Ewalu, literally “The Eight Seas,” defines islands in a chain by the waters that join them with one another. It is the traditional consciousness that ocean is an extension of island. From shoreline to horizon, ocean is definable as “homeland.” It is a familiar realm that guides voyaging canoes by its swells, offers sustenance from its reefs, and endless pleasure through rides upon its waves. And the intimacy shared between Native Hawaiians and the sea is captured forever in the epithet Nā Kai ‘Ewalu.

This ‘ano of intimacy with the ocean influences the composition of mo‘olelo. From this identity comes the spirit, power, and awareness of the author’s own ancestral ties. Equally influential is the heritage of ancestors who began to create complex strategies for survival here nearly two millennia ago. Definitions for the quality of life emerged from their successes and failures as did perspectives about how pono should be defined. Eventually, each subgroup of ‘Ōiwi Maoli society was organized according to respective purposes and functions, the kaukau ali‘i among them. Social organization based on specific tasks and roles also molded beliefs and values associated with equally specific categories of knowledge and activity. Specialists in each of these ‘oihana (occupational categories) retained what they knew and taught it to successive generations. This included specialists who focused on what the past meant. They conveyed lessons former leaders exemplified in their conduct and stressed the importance of the past as a guide for defining what was pono (proper, good, true).

A set of contemporary influences have also shaped this work. Efforts to increase Native Hawaiian empowerment through better health, education, social, political, and economic conditions for the indigenous people today ties directly to the empowering forces found in accounts of bygone eras. To rethink the Native Hawaiian past is also an outgrowth of the ‘Ōiwi Maoli initiative that has established a presence in Hawai‘i’s higher education community. A growing number of us now serve as educators and researchers in various academic fields. At the Center for Hawaiian Studies, faculty who are indigenous to Nā Kai ‘Ewalu have established a template for undergraduate education that blends the traditional with the contemporary in degree requirements and options designed to prepare new generations of leaders committed to the principle of self-determination and mo‘olelo is one of six areas of concentration offered.

Mo‘olelo itself draws from a body of traditional knowledge that goes back two thousand years in Nā Kai ‘Ewalu. The same knowledge is rooted in an even more remote past—a time five thousand years ago when the ancestors of all Polynesian peoples first sailed away from what is now the continent of Asia.¹

From this past, the roots of Polynesia grew in lands eventually called Tonga and Sāmoa. An intrepid seafaring heritage developed and dispersal points to the east in places like Tahiti were established. Hawai‘i was settled from there no later than 200 A.D.

With settlement came the need to record, maintain, and convey knowledge about the new homeland. Oli as a medium for both storage and retrieval of information were applied by ‘Ōiwi Maoli minds to meet the challenges of intial survival. Haku mo‘olelo is one traditional method expressed through oli. It has withstood the test of time as a pivotal strategy for sharing knowledge from the past. Oli conveyed knowledge of many types according to how one’s voice sounded when information was shared. The style of oli indicates particular features of such knowledge including social, political, and geographical contexts for thought, emotion, and behavior that are associated with the specific mo‘olelo.

Like a good conversation, haku mo‘olelo proceeds as composer stays in constant communication with subject matter. This is like proponents of textualism suggesting the possibility of a discursive relationship between a book and its reader. In that case, authorial intent is marginalized and the reader’s view of all material in the book becomes central to understanding its content.

As is typical with ‘ano ‘Ōiwi Maoli, the process haku mo‘olelo is the same phrase that defines the person who so composes. In this way, method and creator has one inseparable ‘ano. The dynamic of the interaction in the case of this study results in mo‘olelo kaukau ali‘i. And a key element of the haku method is an intentional effort to personalize aspects of the mo‘olelo being told. This is contrary to the objectivist school of history that advocates for author as neutral narrator and text in the form of depersonalized descriptions of events with minimal interpretations of evidence.

Another influence for defining this study as mo‘olelo comes from circumstances that prevented the continued expression of Native Hawaiian ‘ano through nationality and use of the Native language. Previous generations of ‘Ōiwi Maoli were forced to speak English in school and punished for speaking Hawaiian on school premises. They were told American ways were progressive and Native Hawaiian ways lacked the substance and sophistication of a civilized people. Airs of superiority led to policies of institutional racism when in 1896 English was made the official language of instruction and government. From then on Native Hawaiians were at a decided disadvantage. The youth had to learn in school in English and their parents were forced to conduct business in a foreign language while still resident in their own homeland. The Native Hawaiian point of view as expressed through daily use of the language was thus repressed for the next seventy-five years. Articulating the past as mo‘olelo refutes notions espoused by foreigners past and present who would demean the ‘Ōiwi Maoli of traditional times as “primitive” or “savage.” It engages the Hawaiian language as a structure for full intellectual expression.

The effort to ho ‘āla, “awaken,” has taken many forms since 1970. Experiences with and observations of these events have also influenced the production of this mo‘olelo. Concerns grew in the early seventies about rampant development in Hawaii. The seemingly endless boom in construction steadily paved over what was Native and natural. This brought protests from many, including concerned Native Hawaiians. They would eventually part from environmental activists, most of them non-Hawaiians, who saw the issue of conservation in the face of development differently from the ‘Ōiwi Maoli.² The central conflict that began the struggle to keep the countryside unspoiled was that an overwhelming number of developers and their political allies callously treated land as a commodity to be exploited for the gain of a relative few. Native Hawaiians in traditional times on the other hand regarded the land and sea as fellow members of an extended family. The more Native Hawaiians delved into the meaning of their collective past, the more they appreciated the spiritual significance of ‘āina as a precious foundation for sustaining life.³ Air pollution, freeway traffic and a skyline of high-rise buildings were the antithesis of ‘āina as the ancestral foundation for life itself.⁴

Inspired by ancestral tradition and grassroots political organizing a movement was born. Native Hawaiians were truly awakened to some disturbing realities. The voices were few back then, detractors included many brothers and sisters who themselves were ‘Ōiwi Maoli by ancestry but American by experience. Many who initiated the protests and demonstrated continued commitment to the cause persevered throughout the seventies. They found willing allies in politically conscious songwriters, kindred spirits whose mele (songs) poignantly expressed the passion of struggle and the spirit of ho ‘āla:

Tired and worn I woke up this morn

Found that I was confused.

Spun right around and found I’d lost

The things I couldn’t loose.

The beaches they sell to build their hotels

My fathers and I once knew

Birds all alone, the sunlight at dawn

Singin’ Waimānalo blues.⁵

What also grew in the early seventies from seeds planted by a hopeful, dedicated few was a revival of interest in the Hawaiian language. Banned by the Republic of Hawai‘i government, the same individuals who overthrew the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893, the indigenous language of the ‘Ōiwi Maoli came precariously close to extinction. Consistent, broad scale efforts during the last three decades have revived Hawaiian language use, including the establishment of a program of publicly funded immersion education from preschool through the twelfth grade.

In step with more prevalent use of the Native language came a renewed interest in the traditions of oli, hula, and other language dependent practices. The valued components for defining what it meant to be ‘Ōiwi Maoli were brought to life and popularized. The light of political consciousness and advocacy for the Hawaiian language burgeoned in the eighties and nineties as parallel developments. At the end of the nineties, though, came examples of the fusion of political consciousness with ancestral traditions as a force for positive change for Native Hawaiians.

For two full days prior to the beginning of a twenty-four hour vigil that began on February 25, 1997, a few masters of the Native dance called kumu hula organized the rest of their peers. They came together to stop the passage of Senate Bill 8. This State legislation would have unnecessarily restricted the practice of gathering resources like ferns, flowers, and seaweed from the environment. Gathering had been upheld as a right of Native Hawaiians by the State Supreme Court. The issue for proponents of the bill centered on the wishes of local and state government, large landowners, and developers to regulate access by Native tenants (those who gather). The landowners sought redress from the legislature when their insurance companies claimed that Native tenants who gathered on the “State’s or landowners’” property were supposedly deemed a liability risk. The potential for liability was said to be serious enough to prevent property insurance from being issued if gathering continued unrestricted. The Native tenants recognized this as a ruse by landowners and developers to further deny access and if possible, extinguish customary practices altogether.

The traditionalists remained undaunted. Led initially by Victoria Holt Takamine in discussion with Pua Kanahele, and Momi Kamahele, they brought hundreds of supporters out in force to a vigil at the Capitol Rotunda. The bill was killed and kumu hula who were relatively apolitical until then found their own path to grassroots empowerment by advocating for the perpetuation of tradition by killing the bill. The gathering rights they based so much of their teaching o...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Figures
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Chapter One: The Meaning of the Past
• Chapter Two: A Voice for the Genealogical Chant
• Chapter Three: Hana Lawelawe in the ÿ Aikapu Era
• Chapter Four: Hana Lawelawe in the ÿ Ainoa Era
• Chapter Five: A Descendant Family of the Moana Lineage
• Bibliography
• Glossary of Hawaiian Words
• Index