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APA 310 Syllabus Addendum – Spring 2018

APA 310 Critical Response Prompts

Critical Response 1 (due 2/1):
Write on ONE of the following questions:

Using your course materials, explain how the worldviews of Pacific Islanders are shaped by their
environment, and in particular the ocean. Why is the ocean central to the lives of Pacific Islanders?

Provide two examples from your course materials that demonstrate how the worldview of Pacific
Islanders shapes their cultural productions. How is their culture a product of their environment?

Critical Response 2 (due 2/22):
Write on ONE of the following questions:

Explain the impact of colonialism on the lives and culture of Pacific Islanders? Provide at least two
examples.

Using examples from your course materials, how have Pacific Islanders used their culture to resist
colonialism? Why is this important?

Critical Response 3 (due 4/5):
Write on ONE of the following questions:

How do tattoos embody and perpetuate the culture of Pacific Island peoples? What do these designs and
symbols mean for those wearing them? Explain.

How do Pacific Islanders use music, literature and/or poetry as methods of cultural resistance? Explain
using at least two examples from your course materials.

Critical Response 4 (due 4/26):
Write on ONE of the following questions:

Why is important to know the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? How
can culture be appropriated by non-Pacific Island peoples and why is this problematic?

How has corporate tourism and corporate media such as Disney been responsible for what Haunani-Kay
Trask calls the Prostitution of Hawaiian (and other Pacific Islander) culture? What is our responsibility as
consumers of culture?

All Critical responses must be written in TIMES NEW ROMAN FONT, 12 pt., double- spaced with
one-inch margins all around. Your name must be at the top of the page. You will be required to
write TWO full pages for full credit. If you go over two pages, that’s fine. You must also provide a
minimum of TWO examples from your course materials and cite those you use in answering the
critical response. Cite your sources correctly. DO NOT CITE OUTSIDE SOURCES. You will be
deducted points for not following instructions.

Critical Responses are all due on Thursday IN CLASS. You must also submit an electronic copy
via Safe Assign by 11:00am that same Thursday. Safe Assign is to ensure you have not plagiarized your
work. You will be deducted 25 points for not uploading your assignment to Safe Assign on time. You
will also receive ZERO points if you do not submit one.

Cultural
Appreciation
or Cultural
Appropriation?

A zine on culture, respect, allyship, and racism

This was written in the spring of

in occupied coast Salish territory, Olym-
pia, Washington.

None of the ideas in this essay are original or new. Please copy and distribute at
will. Take what you want, re-format it, add to it, I don’t care.

If I’ve made glaring mistakes in this essay or you want to talk with me about
cultural appropriation (or anti-oppression and anarchy in general), please get
in touch: vegetablesforbreakfast@gmail.com.

What is cultural appropriation?

Cultural appropriation is the adoption
or theft of icons, rituals, aesthetic standards,
and behavior from one culture or subculture
by another. It generally is applied when the
subject culture is a minority culture or some-
how subordinate in social, political, econom-
ic, or military status to the appropriating
culture. This “appropriation” often occurs
without any real understanding of why the
original culture took part in these activities
or the meanings behind these activities, of-
ten converting culturally significant artifacts,
practices, and beliefs into “meaningless”
pop-culture or giving them a significance
that is completely different/less nuanced
than they would originally have had.

Why does cultural
appropriation happen?

Cultural appropriation is a by-product of imperialism,
capitalism, oppression, and assimilation. Imperialism is the
creation and maintenance of an unequal cultural, economic,
and territorial relationship, usually between states and often
in the form of an empire, based on domination and subor-
dination. Imperialism functions by subordinating groups
of people and territories and extracting everything of value
from the colonized people and territories. In the case of cul-
tural appropriation, culture is treated as a “natural resource”
to extract from People of Color.
Cultural appropriation is profitable. Objects and tradi-
tions (but not the people) of marginalized cultures are seen
by the dominant culture as exotic, edgy, and desirable, which
translates to profits. Capitalism works best when people are
not individual people with celebrated differences, but iden-
tical workers, cogs in the machine. Once diverse cultural
identities are stripped away, the only culture left to identify
with is capitalist culture.
This is one aspect of assimilation, in which marginal-
ized communities lose their cultural markers and are folded
into the dominant culture. The process of assimilation is
sped up when culture markers are appropriated by the domi-
nant culture. Once the dominant culture has access to the
cultural markers of a marginalized culture, they are no lon-
ger markers of the marginalized culture, and the marginal-
ized culture is gobbled up by the dominant culture.

Why is cultural appropriation so
harmful?

Cultural appropriation is harmful because it is an ex-
tension of centuries of racism, genocide, and oppression.
Cultural appropriation treats all aspects of marginalized
cultures (also known as targets of oppression) as free for the
taking. This is the same rationale that has been (and still is)
used to steal land and resources from People of Color, par-
ticularly Native people. Put together, the theft of the lands,
resources, and culture of a marginalized group amount to
genocide.
The defense of cultural appropriation is based upon the
misconception that race relations exist on a level-playing
field, as though racism no longer exists. Systematic racism
does still exist – white people have power and privilege in
this society, while People of Color are systematically denied
power and privilege in this society. There cannot be a truly
equal and free flow of ideas, practices, and cultural markers
as long as one group (white people) have power and privi-
lege over another group (People of Color).
Spiritual practices of Native peoples are particularly
prone to appropriation by the dominant culture. This is ex-
ceptionally ironic, given that after colonization, it was not
until the passage of the 1

American Indian Religious
Freedom Act that Native people in the United States were
legally permitted to practice their traditional spirituality.
Since the colonization of this continent by white settlers,
Native people have faced monumental obstancles to the
free exercise of their spiritual practices, including boarding
schools,

forced relocation, endless broken treaties, “kill the Indian,
save the man” policies, and forced assimilation. So it is par-
ticularly insensitive for white people to attempt to justify
their/our use of Native spiritual practices when Native peo-
ple themselves have often been brutally persecuted for the
same.
Cultural appropriation is not an acceptable way to
honor, respect, or appreciate People of Color. If you wish to
honor, respect, or appreciate Black people or Black culture,
then you should learn how to recognize, confront, and dis-
mantle systematic racism instead of appropriating dread-
locks, a symbol of the wearer’s commitment to Jah Rasta-
fari and Black resistance to racism. If you wish to honor,
respect, or appreciate Native people or Native culture, learn
how to listen to Native people when they identify very real
problems (and how to confront them) faced by Native peo-
ple today, such as astronomical suicide and alcoholism rates
on reservations or the continued theft of Native lands by
resource extraction companies.
Many well-intentioned and self-proclaimed anti-
racists will engage in cultural appropriation in the name of
“solidarity.” A prominent example of this is white pro-Pal-
estinian activists wearing keffiyehs, Arab headscarves and
symbols of Palestinian nationalism and resistance to oc-
cupation. But simply wearing a keffiyeh will not end Israel’s
occupation of Palestine. There are many real, concrete steps
one can take to support Palestinean liberation, such as the
Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement. In addition,
one must also take into account the very real climate of Is-
lamophobia and Arab-phobia in the United States – people
who are perceived as Arab and/or Muslin are treated with
hostility, suspicion, and violence, and assumed to be

terrorists. This is only aggravated when these people are
seen wearing articles of clothing associated with Islam or
Arab culture. For white people to wear keffiyehs is to wave
around our/their white privilege – white people aren’t au-
tomatically assumed to be terrorists. White people wear-
ing keffiyehs are seen as hip, fashion-forward, and worldly,
whereas Arab- and Muslim-perceived people wearing keffi-
yehs are seen as dangerous, Others, and terrorists.
Many traditions that have been appropriated from Na-
tive people (such as sweat lodges and “medicine wheel cer-
emonies”) are performed by white people allegedly in the
name of such lofty goals as world peace, spiritual mending,
and mutual understanding. One of the things needed for
world peace, spiritual mending, and mutual understanding
to occur is an end to racism. But cultural appropriation is a
form of racism, and as long as racism exists, there can be no
world peace, spiritual mending, or mutual understanding.
Many concrete steps to dismantle racism have been identi-
fied by many different people, including recognizing one’s
role in perpetuating racism, confronting one’s own white
privilege, and attacking the systems of oppression that give
white people privilege in the first place. None of these steps
require cultural appropriation. And it is unacceptable for
white people’s healing to come at the expense of the cultural
survival of People of Color.
Cultural appropriation of ceremonies and objects re-
moves and distorts these traditions and things from their
original contexts and into gross caricatures that are a slap in
the face to the original practitioners of the ceremonies, with
complete disregard for the history and present day reality
of oppression (usually perpetrated by white people who feel
similarly entitled to all aspects of these peoples’ lands,

resources, and cultures) faced by the people to whom those
ceremonies belong. Cultural appropriation is insensitive
and ignorant at best, and blatantly and knowingly racist at
worst.
Cultural appropriation often perpetuates inaccurate
stereotypes about People of Color – what most white people
think they know about Native Americans often comes from
inaccurate stereotypes of a monolithic culture involving tee-
pees, sweat lodges, and dream catchers. When these inac-
curate stereotypes are perpetuated, they create a mold that
white people demand People of Color fit into. When People
of Color don’t fit those stereotypes, they are often ridiculed,
attacked, dismissed, and marginalized for not fitting into a
white person’s inaccurate idea of what it means to be a Per-
son of Color.
People of Color – including Native Americans – still
exist. Often, the justification used for cultural appropriation
is something along the lines of “I just love the way these
people lived! It was so simple and beautiful!”, as if they’re
all extinct. This tells real life People of Color that they don’t
actually exist. Being told you don’t exist is extremely hurtful,
and it tells white people that there is no more need for anti-
racism since if People of Color don’t exist anyway, then of
course they can’t possibly be oppressed.
Even if you don’t understand why it is hurtful to see
various aspects of one’s culture appropriated, or you think
there are worse problems that People of Color should
spending their time confronting (even though it is white
people’s responsibility to confront racism), it is still impera-
tive to listen to People of Color when they identify – and call
for an end to – cultural appropriation. As targets of racism,
People of Color are the experts in racism, and therefore

anti-racist efforts should be directed by the needs identified
by People of Color.

It’s complicated

Calling each other out for appropriating other cultures
(or even navigating less confrontational discussions around
cultural appropriation) can be tricky. As always, it’s really
important not to assume anyone’s identity. Just because
someone has light skin doesn’t mean they’re white. Treat-
ing “white” as the default race is one of the many aspects of
racism, and assuming that everyone with light skin is white
is racist and erasing. So for example, it’s not ok for me to
immediately tell a light-skinned person wearing a beaded
headband that they’re appropriating Native beadwork and
need to take off the headband – that person could very well
be Native. That’s why it’s important to talk about this stuff. If
you think someone is being appropriative, ask them about
it!
Sometimes we’re invited to take part in others’ cultural
traditions, by members of that culture. It is an honor to be
invited to do so, but we also must remember that being in-
vited to take part in something doesn’t give us the right to
perform said activity outside of that invited context. Even if
you’ve done a ton of research and know all about some tra-
dition you find really interesting, if you are not a member
of the culture that practices that tradition, you still have the
potential to strip that practice of its original meaning.
Where it gets really tricky is with traditions or symbols
that have roots in several different cultures. For example,
dreadlocks are found in Indian, Buddhist, Rastfari, African,
and Celtic culture. Most recently, dreadlocks are known as a
symbol of Black resistance to racism and Rastafaris’

commitment to Jah. When white people wear dreadlocks,
we/they strip dreadlocks from their symbolism of resistance
to racism and a commitment to Jah. But as a general rule of
thumb, it’s not appropriation if it’s from your own culture.
So what about white people of Celtic heritage who
wear dreadlocks? Dreadlocks are part of their culture, but
someone walking down the street would not be able to tell
that some random white person with dreadlocks is Celtic. I
don’t have any quick and easy answers for this, but I think
that context is really really important. I live in the United
States, where dreadlocks are not widely recognized as a
Celtic cultural marker. All white people have the ability to
strip dreadlocks of their symbolism for People of Color, re-
gardless of our ethnicity. Does this mean that white people
with Celtic heritage living in the United States should never
wear dreadlocks? I don’t know. I do think it means that the
decision to wear dreadlocks must be approached very care-
fully, and with the knowledge that one must be prepared
to engage in continual conversation about what dreadlocks
mean for a variety of cultures.

Special thanks to Dalya.

Further resources

Native Appropriations: www.nativeappropriations.
blogspot.com

My Culture Is Not A Trend: www.mycultureisnota-
trend.tumblr.com

Feminist Intersection: On hipsters/hippies and Native
culture: http://bitchmagazine.org/post/to-the-hipstership-
pies-on-native-culture-%E2%80%93-please-stop-annoying-
the-fuck-out-of-me

Answers for White People on Hair, Appropriation, and
Anti-Racist Struggle: http://zinelibrary.info/answers-white-
people-appropriation-hair-and-anti-racist-struggle

Hipster Appropriations: www.hipsterappropriations.
tumblr.com

GEORGE H. LEWIS

Da Kine Sounds: The Function

of Music as Social Protest in

the New Hawaiian Renaissance

Deep in this tortured island all alone
Hear the winds cry, the mountains moan …
A culture, a land, destroyed by white man’s greed
Taking our pride and honor, they planted their seed …
We followed their rules much too long.
Our protests are heard in our music and song …

“Hawaiian Awakening”
by Debbie Maxwell

Until the late 1960s and early 1970s, when it became evident that ignoring the im-

pact of popular music on social and cultural protest movements was sociological
folly, there were few serious studies of the impact of popular music as political ex-

pression. Although some ethnomusicologists, such as Alan P. Merriam,1 were ar-

guing that “songs lead as well as follow, and political and social movements, often

expressed through song because of the license it gives, shape and force the mould-

ing of public opinion,” there were only a handful of social scientists who took such
an idea seriously enough to allow it to inform their own work. Therefore, with a
few exceptions,2 most treatments of popular music as political expression were

likely to be journalistic or historicaP rather than sociological.
Although the 1970s and the early 1980s saw some studies of this important

phenomenon by sociologists,4 it has been a topic that, strangely, has had compara-
tively little attention accorded to it, given its importance in the study of social and

political stability and change.
This paper is an attempt to analyze the role of da kine (pidgin for “right on”)

music in an ongoing social movement that is an important and focal concern of the

people of Hawaii-a contemporary movement both political and cultural in nature,
which is popularly known as the Hawaiian Renaissance. In contrast to most pre-

George H. Lewis is a member of the Department of Sociology at the University of the Pacific,
Stockton, California.
American Music Summer 1984

? 1984 Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 39

vious studies of the place of music in social movements, this study does not focus
heavily on a content analysis of lyrics, as many of the most influential songs are
sung entirely in Hawaiian, a language a majority of those in the audience either do
not understand or are familiar with only certain key words and phrases. Although
lyric content is considered in this study, the larger focus will be on the symbolic
meaning of the Hawaiian song,5 as well as on nonverbal aspects of the music and
accompanying dance-an area of analysis that is sadly lacking in most studies of
musical performance.6

Social movements arise not only in response to conditions of inequality or in-
justice but, more important, because of changing definitions of these conditions.
Those involved must recognize and define their plight as an injustice, and one that
is intolerable to live with, rather than just passing it off as the result of luck or a cruel
twist of fate.7 In addition, participants in such a movement must come to believe
that an alleviation of these intolerable conditions is possible and that their efforts
will be important in obtaining the desired changes in political and social condi-
tions.8

There are four major stages in “consciousness raising” associated with social
movements. (1) Social discontent must be associated with the social conditions in
which persons find themselves.9 (2) These problematic social conditions must be
defined not as unchangeable and due to fate, but, instead, as due to the policies of
the present social order, which can be changed-thus moving persons from social
discontent to social unrest, or a readiness to challenge the political structure to
change social conditions.10 (3) From this base of social unrest, a definition of what is
wrong with present social conditions and proposed solutions to these problems, as
well as accepted rationales for participation, and assurances that such participation
is both necessary and efficacious must be developed-in other words, a social ideol-
ogy must be created.” (4) Social legitimization of the ideology and the goals of the
movement must be sought by tying it to the common values of the larger popula-
tion in which the movement is operating.12 This process of social redefinition, or the
mobilizing and eventual legitimization of discontent which turns mere dissatisfac-
tion with the social order into a force for change, is a crucial and relatively un-
studied topic in the literature of social movements.

Music and popular songs can play an important role in this process of symbolic
redefinition and the creation of a social ideology for social movements. As Finlay13
has noted, if one examines just the lyrics of protest songs associated with social
movements, one can find many examples of diagnoses of what is wrong with the
present order of things, proposed solutions to these wrongs, and rationales for par-
ticipation in the movement-all key elements in the definition of a social move-
ment ideology.

In addition to the development of ideology through the content of lyrics,
something that has been to some extent examined,14 a second important function
of music in social movements is in the development of social solidarity among
members and potential members.15 The songs of social movements attempt to ap-

40 Lewis

peal to and reinforce common values and social identities among potential and ac-
tive members. The fact that music is not often taken seriously as a political activity
often gives musicians and singers more license to reach a broad range of audiences
than would be possible for other types of political activists, something I have exam-
ined earlier with respect to the “youth movement” of the 1960s16 and Afro-
American protests and social movements in the United States.17 By musically ap-
pealing to common values and traditional roots of a larger audience, the goals of
the social movement may more easily be linked with these values and thus legiti-
matized within the larger system.18

In addition, there are symbolic aspects of the music of most protest move-
ments that help to both define ideology and develop solidarity that are not con-
tained strictly in the lyrics of the songs themselves. The musical forms chosen by
protest musicians usually involve elements drawn from the “traditional” music of
the oppressed group. These elements usually involve the use of traditional melo-
dies, transformed by the use of new lyrics, but which are recognized by most par-
ticipants as deriving from “the people’s” music.19

Also, familiar forms of musical structure may be used, such as rhythm pat-
terns or traditional dance forms, as well as the special use of traditional instruments
that are a part of the specific cultural heritage of the oppressed group, to define
symbolically the music as that of the people. Finally, the style of presentation of the
music, the body language of the performers, and the styles of dress they choose-
usually in opposition to the established way of presenting popular music in the
larger society-all serve to identify symbolically these players and their perform-
ances as part of the culture of the oppressed group.

In considering the presentation and performance of protest songs, one has to
take note also of the ritual nature of music and the effect of this ritual in creating
feelings of identification and solidarity in the audience. Once an individual has
been brought into the sphere of a movement’s activities, the use of music in gather-
ings can, unquestionably, reinforce the feelings of communal belonging and social

solidarity. Such social rituals, when they are effective, help to charge emotionally
the interests members of these groups hold in common, elevating them to moral

rights and surrounding them with a “kind of symbolic halo of righteousness.”20
This function of emotionally charging the interests of group members is done more

effectively through music, a nonrational medium, than through speeches, pam-
phlets, or other rational, language-based means. Thus, as Durkheim suggested in
the context of religion, musical events can provide the sorts of emotional, euphoric,
vitalizing, and integrative experiences that more rationalistic appeals cannot. This
function of music is doubly important in the context of social movements, when
one considers the high proportion of the nonliterate in most oppressed popula-
tions, for whom rational, language-based arguments are, at the most, ineffective
and, at the least, totally inappropriate means of communication.

Therefore, in summary, music is a unique and effective force in the mobilizing
of discontent within an oppressed population because: (1) it can clearly define the

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 41

state of social discontent and develop the elements of a social ideology to reinforce
and rationalize the social movement; (2) it is less likely to be taken seriously, and
thus less likely to be censored or repressed, than the more rational and literal forms
of communication, such as speeches or pamphlets; (3) it can powerfully tie social
protest to the traditional values and symbols of the group through the use of tradi-
tional musical forms, instruments, dress, and modes of presentation; (4) it can pro-
ject a powerful emotional message that may be more effective in promoting solidar-
ity than more “rational” modes of communication; and (5) music, in this emotional
communication, can charge the interests of the group, elevating them to the inten-
sity of moral rights.

In the remainder of this paper, I shall present an analysis of the music of what
has become known as the “Hawaiian Renaissance,” a contemporary sociocultural
movement that illustrates and amplifies the points made in the discussion so far.

On March 22, 1977, George Kanahele addressed the Rotary Club of Honolulu
on the subject of the resurgence of interest in Hawaiian culture that had been build-
ing around the state since the beginning of the decade. “Some had called it a ‘psy-
chological renewal,’ a purging of feelings of alienation and inferiority. For others it
is a reassertion of self-dignity and self-importance. . . . What is happening among
Hawaiians today is probably the most significant chapter in their modern history
since the overthrow of the monarchy and loss of nationhood in 1893. For, concomi-
tant with this cultural rebirth, is a new political awareness which is gradually being
transformed into an articulate, organized but unmonolithic, movement.”21

This speech, published in full by the Honolulu Advertiser, has since been
quoted extensively by local politicians, social activists, and those involved in reviv-
ing the arts and culture of Hawaii. Kanahele entitled his speech, “Hawaiian Ren-
aissance,” thus giving a name to this fast coalescing value-oriented social move-
ment.

The movement was anticipated in Hawaii. As early as 1959, the Kamehameha
School faculty were discussing the “psychological rebirth” of Hawaiians, as they
began showing interest in, and exploring, their culture.2 This interest in Hawaiian
culture at Kamehameha revolved around the efforts of Nona Beamer, who fought
in earlier years to establish a Hawaiian Club at the school. By the 1950s, Beamer-
who had obtained a graduate degree in anthropology at Columbia while studying
Hawaiian culture-was teaching part-time in Kamehameha.

“I coined the word Hawaiiana in 1949. The word ‘ana’ is a very important
word to me, because it means to measure, to evaluate, to glean the very best of the
Hawaiian culture. This is what we choose to teach, the very best of the culture. So it
wasn’t chosen idly. I think Kamehameha was the first to pick Hawaiian Studies as a
cultural program for students, and then the University of Hawaii picked it up for
their summer sessions.”23

Then, in 1964, John Dominis Holt published an important essay entitled, “On
Being Hawaiian.” This essay, which called for a definition of identity in cultural

42 Lewis

terms, was circulated and debated heavily in the mid to late 1960s, thus setting the
stage for what was to explode from 1969 to 1972 as a genuine rebirth of awareness
in, and response to, Hawaiian culture.

This cultural flowering is usually identified most strongly with developments
in the field of Hawaiian music and dance in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Up to
this time, Hawaiian song and dance of the twentieth century was, in the main,
commercial music heavily influenced and produced by the middle-of-the-road
mainland American recording industry.

This commercialization of Hawaiian culture began in 1915, when a group of
Hawaiian musicians, singers, and dancers–featuring George E. K. Awai’s Royal
Hawaiian Quartet-were headline acts at the Panama-Pacific International Exposi-
tion in San Francisco. Their popularity sparked a craze that swept the United States
and, later, Western Europe.24 The popularity of Hawaiian music prompted main-
land music composers, the Tin Pan Alley people, to begin writing imitative mate-
rial for mass consumption.

The result was a series of “phony” Hawaiian songs, many with nonsense lyr-
ics like those of the Al Jolson hit, “Yaaka Hula Hickey Dula.” Hawaiian musicians
who came to the mainland to tour gradually incorporated these much requested
songs into their repertoires–as well as rearranging Hawaiian classics to the newly
popular jazz beat that was sweeping America.25

As the first tourist hotels opened on Waikiki, this commercial “Hawaiian” mu-
sic was the natural sound for the stage shows and dance bands that sprang up with
the tourist industry. Ragtime, jazz, blues, foxtrot-all were used in creating songs
with Hawaiian themes, but with English lyrics. These hapa haole songs, played live
in Waikiki and across America by touring bands, were also broadcast throughout
the world on the famous radio program, “Hawaii Calls,” as well as being featured
in films such as Bing Crosby’s 1937 Waikiki Wedding, from which the hapa haole song,
“Sweet Leilani” won the Oscar for best song.26

This music, much of it commercially produced by non-Hawaiians, came to be
defined as authentic Hawaiian music, even by many Hawaiians, and it was mistak-

enly assumed to represent and reflect the cultural identity of the people. From 1930
and into the 1960s, the “Hawaiian sound,” much of it created in Tin Pan Alley,
flourished commercially both on the American mainland (especially in the 1930s
and 1940s) and in the lounges and supper clubs of Waikiki.

Paralleling this commercial creation and definition of Hawaiian music was the

development of the hula dance style. From 1915 through the 1920s, the hula be-
came a rage in vaudeville and mainland circus sideshows.27 Called “cootch”
dancers, most performers (who were seldom Hawaiian) created their own steps
and movements, most centered around an overtly sexual theme. By the 1930s, this
form of “hula” was cleaned up and used by Hollywood in films starring Bing
Crosby. Thus, it became a symbol of Hawaiian culture in the minds of many and
was incorporated into Waikiki stage shows along with the hapa haole music.28

By the late 1960s, perhaps fueled by the efforts of mainland American cultural
minorities to assert their own identities, dissatisfaction with the slick and symboli-

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 43

cally empty commercial music and dance of Hawaii fused with social and political
concerns revolving around identity to create the beginnings of a social movement
in Hawaii.

In November, 1966, a local radio station, KCCN, made the decision to broad-
cast Hawaiian music only, twenty-four hours a day. Although a good deal of this
music was of the hapa haole variety, some of it was authentic and traditional, the
work of a few (such as Andy Cummings, Gabby Pahinui, Genoa Keawe, and Nona
Beamer) who were performing in the old styles and keeping alive a tenuous and
fragile musical tradition.

In 1969, the station entertained the idea of dropping the all-Hawaiian format,
but abandoned their plans when they received 4,200 letters of protest in one week’s
time.29 In April, 1971, KCCN sponsored a four-hour concert at the Waikiki Shell
that featured over fifty local musicians, many of whom played traditional music in
the old styles. The concert was a sellout and a symbolic watershed in the resur-
gence of interest in authentic Hawaiian music.

Much of this interest was from the young Hawaiians who were searching for
some sort of cultural roots. In so doing, not only did they begin to support the mu-
sic of the few traditionalists who were still performing, but they also began to play
this music-and to create new music within the old traditional forms. As Krash
Kealoha, then station manager of KCCN, explained it in 1973: “Up until that point
(1970) we were playing old Hawaiian music and hapa haole tunes. Then several kids
started talking to me, and it turned out they were disappointed because they were
writing their own music and coming up with their own style, and some were even
going into the studios and spending their own money-$5,000 or whatever it
cost-to produce a record. But when the record came out, it wouldn’t get on any
radio stations … At first there was a lot of resistance from our steady listeners (to
us playing the music), some of the older people who felt anything that wasn’t sung
in Hawaiian was rock and roll.”‘3 KCCN, with its exclusive focus, became a key in
dissemination and popularization of the music of the Hawaiian renaissance, as
well as a source of information about the music and the people who were creating
it.

A second key to the launching of this movement was the interaction between
an aging traditional singer, Phillip Pahinui, and two young musicians, Peter Moon
and Palani Vaughn. Pahinui, better known as “Gabby” or “Pops,” had been active
musically in the 1930s, 1940s, and early 1950s, playing mostly traditional music,
though he was, at times, heavily influenced by mainland jazz. But his music had
not been popular enough on which to base a career, and he made his living work-
ing on street crews for the city of Honolulu. By the 1960s, he remembered: “I had
just about given up, was working with the City and County then. The only time
we’d play music was when we’d finish work on the road and sit down under a tree
and strum.”31 In addition, Pahinui had been a heavy drinker his whole life, and this
had influenced his behavior-making him erratic enough so that he could never
sustain the effort to develop a successful career.

Peter Moon, and others, attracted by Gabby’s knowledge of the old songs and

44 Lewis

the techniques of slack-key guitar playing, haunted him for lessons. “Gabby is a
genius, you know. He really is. The guy still knows his stuff. And he’s a storehouse
of 40 years being in the business … He’s just uncanny, he baffles us four or five
times a year. He’ll play slack key in these real old tunings, then smile at Cyril and
me as if to say, ‘See, you didn’t think I had it, did you?’ “32 Not only was Peter
Moon to learn from Gabby, he also encouraged him to record again, and eventually
became Pahinui’s agent and producer-launching a successful mid-life musical ca-
reer that was to last until the singer’s death in 1980.

At the same time that Peter Moon was learning slack-key guitar from Gabby
Pahinui, Palani Vaughn was seriously researching Hawaii’s musical past, in search
of material upon which to build a career. “We’ve had chanters and dancers in our
family going back several generations. I started out just looking for songs, you
know, but then I got into the origins of the music …. Peter Moon and I were in
the same graduate course in Hawaiian art history. . . . We had mutual friends and
I asked him if he’d like to work on an album with me. In the process, the Sunday
Manoa was formed.”33

The Sunday Manoa, first recorded in 1969 and the most influential of the new
Hawaiian groups, originally consisted of Moon, Vaughn, Baby Kalima, and two of
Gabby Pahinui’s sons, Cyril and Bla.34 Also important for the early success of the
group was a young songwriter who was another member of that Hawaiian art his-
tory course, Larry Kimwa. Kimwa wrote five of the songs for the first Sunday Ma-
noa album, and went on to become one of the most influential and prolific of the

songwriters of the renaissance.
Later, as Vaughn left the Sunday Manoa to begin his solo career resurrecting

musical material from Hawaii’s last monarchical era, the Cazimero brothers-
products of Kamehameha School and its emphasis on Hawaiian culture-joined
the group and helped to shape its distinct sound throughout the early 1970s. To-

day, in addition to The Brothers Cazimero’s highly successful career in Hawaiian
music, Roland Cazimero also teaches music, singing, and hula at Kamehameha,
while Peter Moon continues to record as The Peter Moon Band and sponsors an
annual concert of traditional Hawaiian music, Kanikapila, held at the University of
Hawaii since 1971.

Moon, whose considerable talents were responsible throughout the 1970s for
the organization and developmnent of Hawaiian music, eventually hopes to focus
on the teaching of slack-key guitar and to open a school of music. “All I’ve done,”
he says, “is organize. My real contribution has been in working with people. That
is, enhancing people by developing their talents and ideas … I know how to
teach and I enjoy developing people’s talents. I want to help young people
grow. “3

The third factor in the musical launching of the renaissance in the early 1970s
was the establishment, in February 1971, of the Hawaiian Music Foundation, set
up by George Kanahele to preserve and perpetuate Hawaiian music. In 1972 the
Foundation held its first slack-key guitar contest and, in 1973, began sponsoring
falsetto and steel guitar contests. Since 1975, the Hawaiian Music Foundation has

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 45

published Hacilono Mele, a monthly (now quarterly) newsletter dealing with Hawai-
ian music, and, in cooperation with St. Louis High School, offers classes in Hawai-
ian music which, over the 1970s, were taken by well over one thousand students.36

As Kanahele said, looking back over the decade, in 1979: “There appears to be
more young and old people learning to play Hawaiian music, more teaching and
more performing it, than at any time in the past 20 or 30 years. . . . Significantly,
the impetus for the resurgence in Hawaiian music has come essentially, if not en-
tirely, from the local community: The lyrics are in Hawaiian, the themes are Hawai-
ian, the composers, for the most part, are Hawaiian. It has not come from the out-
side, nor from the tourism industry; the most popular Hawaiian groups almost
disdain the tastes of the visitors.”37

Along with this resurgence in the performance and the creation of Hawaiian
music came a renewed interest in the traditional forms of the hula.38 The Merrie
Monarch Festival, a hula competition begun in 1964, was attracting large numbers
of contestants by 1971 and, in 1972, the King Kamehameha Celebration hula com-
petition was begun. Both events became increasingly popular throughout the
1970s, drawing sellout crowds by the end of the decade.

In 1969, the Nanahuli dance troupe, devoted to preserving traditional forms of
the hula, was formed by lolani Luahine, who used the troupe to spearhead her
successful efforts to get the State Commission on Hawaiian Heritage formed.39 The
Commission, since the early 1970s, has sponsored annual dance conferences
which are always sellout events.

Also, in 1972, Maciki Aiu began a school for hula instructors and, in 1973,
turned out a first class of twenty-eight. Most of these instructors, graduated
throughout the 1970s, began their own schools of hula during the decade.40 As
Kanuhele remarked. “It is important to note that today’s interest is for the ancient,
rather than the modern or hapa haole, hula. The more traditional the dance, the
keener the interest. It is as if people want to get as close as they possibly can to the
first hula and, because of this, the Hawaiians have finally retaken the hula from the
tourists.”41

Thus, the hula-perhaps the world’s best-known symbol of tropic sensuality
and, since the early 1900s, a trademark of foreign exploitation of Hawaii-was
transformed in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s into a potent symbol of re-
discovered pride and one of the most important signposts of the Hawaiian renais-
sance.

Although centered around music and dance, the Hawaiian cultural rebirth is
not exclusive to these activities. The 1970s saw a concomitant increase in interest in
the Hawaiian language, as well. In 1972 an organization, cAhahui cOlelo Hawaici,
was formed around those who wished to retain the traditional tongue. cAhahui
cOlelo Hawaici grew in numbers and activities throughout the decade,
sponsoring-among other things-a weekly talk show, “Ka Leo O Hawaii,” on
KCCN radio, conducted entirely in Hawaiian.

Increasingly, since the early 1970s, Hawaiian words and phrases have been
entering the common language of Hawaii, serving as symbolic identifiers of

46 Lewis

Hawaiian-ness. Such phrases are used in the musical patter and pidgin of perform-
ers and movement people to help establish identification. If one understands-and
responds appropriately-one is a “brother” or a “sister.”

The decade saw, as well, the introduction of classes in Hawaiian in most island
high schools and a course of instruction at the University of Hawaii. In 1978, the
Hawaiian State Constitution was amended to make Hawaiian, though still under-
stood and spoken by very few on the islands, an official language (along with En-
glish) of the state.

Ancient crafts, such as featherwork and traditional lei making, were revived in
the 1970s, as was canoe racing and traditional forms of surfing. Interest in canoes
reached a high point in 1975, with the creation and sailing of a double-hulled canoe,
the Hokuleca, to Tahiti-thus recreating, in reverse, the initial voyage of discovery
of the first Hawaiians.

This voyage, the materialization of Hawaii’s cultural heritage, was commemo-
rated in a song cycle written by members of various renaissance musical groups
and performed by them, banded together for this purpose as Hokuleca. Kelici
Tauca, a member of Hokuleca, explains. “When the canoe was dedicated I was part
of the ceremonies. I was the assistant Kahuna to the rituals, the chanting and all.
And that’s where I was inspired to write my first song on the general feeling of the
launching. … Anyone who has seen the boat, to say ‘wow’ or something can’t be
enough to capture what you feel inside. . . . Because it is still living today, it is so
instrumental and very important to us, to everyone who wants to feel Hawaiian, to
take from it and understand for themselves. . . . It’s like a shrine.”42

The new songs of Hawaii have much in common with the songs of many pro-
test movements, performing ideological, motivational, and integrative functions.
They are nationalistic and celebrate the traditions of native Hawaiians in opposi-
tion to the cultural domination of the mainland United States and the entertain-
ment needs of the booming tourist industry.

Groups formed in the 1970s refused to continue the tradition of “cute” names
of the past, like the Royal Hawaiian Serenaders or the Waikiki Beachboys-names
that conjured up images of happy-go-lucky brown lackeys of the Hawaiian films
and nightclubs. Instead, they named themselves after Hawaii, the land: The Sun-
day Manoa, Hui Ohana, the Makaha Sons of Nicihau, Olomana.

This concern with the land is a theme strongly reflected in the lyrics of the new
songs (such as “E Kuu Morning Dew” and “Nanakuli Blues”), which celebrate the
beauty of various island places and lament their destruction by contemporary off-
island concerns, or the fact that the land-once Hawaiian-is now owned by for-
eigners who refuse to treat it with the care and reverence it demands. As the late
George Helm, musician and political activist, said in description of these songs:
“Hawaiian views on nature are the subject of many songs and contain a true re-
spect for nature. Many of the songs now openly express, if one understands the
words, the language-pain, revolution; it’s expressing the emotional reaction the
Hawaiians are feeling to the subversion of their lifestyle.”43

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 47

Such songs have been written and sung in support of political demonstrations
since early 1970, when protesters sought to prevent the Bishop Estate from evicting
a pig farmer from their lands in Ohaucs Kalama Valley. Such crusades against
actions of the large landowners and real-estate developers gained momentum
through the 1970s and are a major consideration in the political equation of Hawaii
in the early 1980s. As Olomana’s Jerry Santos put it: “Kawela Bay and Turtle Bay
have been rezoned for resort areas, and the people who lived there for 20 years
have to move out because their leases were traded suddenly to an insurance com-
pany on the mainland. And nobody even knew about it. . . . But if you sing a song
about it, all kinds of people will know. .. .”44

Perhaps the most significant social protest of the 1970s that involved both con-
cern for the land and the support of the new music was the movement to get the
U.S. Navy to stop using the island of Kahocolawe for bombing practice, something
they had been doing for many years. Activists such as George Helm and Walter
Ritte, supported by local musicians, held huge rallies in protest of the Navy’s poli-
cies and, in January 1976, crept onto the island and “occupied” it in protest.
Among other efforts in support of this occupation was the recording of a traditional
chant by Kelici Tauca, a member of Hokuleca, and the writing of such new songs of

protest as Debbie Maxwell’s “Hawaiian Awakening,” and Harry Mitchell’s “Mele
O Kahocolawe.”

Such efforts have been critical in legitimatizing the goals of the activists and
obtaining popular support for them. The Kahocolawe movement is now accepted
even by members of the traditional Hawaiian Civic Clubs, who earlier took out
newspaper ads in opposition to it. Even more significant is the fact that the earlier
militant image of the movement has now taken on mystical and spiritual overtones
and its goals have become almost a cultural demand of the people, a phenomenon
aided to a great extent by its legitimization and incorporation as a part of the cul-
tural renaissance. “What we needed was to get Hawaiians active. . . . Music is the
easiest way I know, because people tune into music. . . . That’s what I use music
for.”45

Another related topic addressed in the lyrics of the new music is hostility to-
ward tourists and criticism of their impact on Hawaii in terms of land use, real-
estate development, and bastardization and cooptation of traditional Hawaiian
culture. “I hate tourists. Oh, I don’t hate the tourist person-I hate the industry. We
have no control over that industry. It’s like a giant malignant cancer and it’s eating
up all our beaches, all the places that are profound for our culture. It’s grabbing
them. They take the best.”46

Songs like “Hawaii ’78” can be quite blunt in their condemnation of tourism,
or they can be very subtle, focusing on the daily lives of people in some romantic
past before the influx of tourism, making their points in the traditional Hawaiian
style of Kaona, or hidden meaning. “Hawaiian music reflects the attitudes toward
life and nature. These are basically clean protests and not harsh, but with a deep
hidden meaning, which Anglo-Saxon reasoning cannot appreciate.”47

A third theme, that of an urgent concern for preserving the traditional ways of

48 Lewis

Hawaii, and even the Hawaiian race, is the subject of a good number of these
songs, such as “All Hawaii Stands Together” and “E Na Hawaici.” As Palani
Vaughn said of his work: “By the third album, the content got rather political, say-
ing things like ‘The race is dying, we must survive.’ In fact I’ve been called a racist,
but my answer is the Hawaiian race is a dying one and I don’t find it a crime to
foster its survival.”48

With respect to this third major theme, the song cycle about the canoe Hoku-
le Ca is a clear and significant example-as is the more recent (1982) song cycle writ-
ten by Roland Cazimaro on Pele, the goddess of fire, or Olomana’s song which
ends with: “Why must they always wipe out all our past?” Jerry Santos, of Olo-
mana, notes: “The new interest in the music is tied to the diminishing factor of the
Hawaiian lifestyle. With the buildings and the condominiums and the thousands
of people, a lot of the old things vanish very quickly. There is more of an urgency to
remember the old values correctly.”49

Many of these songs are written and sung in Hawaiian. This is of special im-
port because-even with the increased study of the language evidenced in the
1970s-the majority of Hawaiians do not understand it. Thus, they rely on transla-
tions given by performers during their live shows or, in some cases, appearing as
liner notes on their record albums.

Because of this, songs are more likely to be recognized by their melodies than
by their titles, and the fact that they are sung in Hawaiian takes on the larger and
more general symbolic significance of a protest against the destruction of the lan-
guage and its replacement with English. In this way, the very act of singing or lis-
tening to songs sung in Hawaiian becomes an act of social protest at the same time
that it is a reaffirmation of cultural identity.

Many of the songs use musical forms that are associated with native
tradition-from the chants of early Hawaii to the song stylings of the slack-key gui-
tarists. Many also will use some lyrics from the older songs, brought into the cul-
tural repertoire of the new composers by artists such as Gabby Pahinui or Genoa
Keawe, with only parts of the lyrics changed to “update” the songs for their pur-
pose. Thus, the new songs are located in a well-established tradition of the people’s
music, which enhances their appeal to a wide range of listeners and provides a ba-
sis for identification with the movement.

The instrumentation of the new songs is also an important characteristic of
their appeal. Many of the most popular performers, such as the Beamer Brothers or
Hokuleca, use indigenous folk instruments in their arrangements-instruments
that had not been a part of popular music until their introduction in the 1970s.

The slack-key guitar regained its central place in the music of the 1970s, but
along with it came strings like the tiple and the requinta and percussions like the ipu
(a gourd drum), cili cili (stone castanets), pahu (a sharkskin drum), and a culili (triple
gourd rattle). The music played on these instruments is more polished than tradi-
tional rural songs and chants, and many of them are played in ways that would
never have occurred in traditional settings. Nevertheless, the use of these instru-
ments has emphasized nationalistic pride in the traditions of the people and is

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 49

aimed at establishing an identification with those traditions and people. Too, the
use of such instruments is a self-conscious act in opposition to the forms of instru-
mentation found in mainland “pop” music or the tourist lounges of Waikiki. Thus,
the selection of instruments is also a political statement about the need to respect
Hawaiian traditions and to oppose mainland domination and cultural cooptation
by the tourist industry.

Many of these musical groups will perform with hula dancers as interpreters
of the music into the symbolic form of the dance or, in other cases, as a traditional
musical accompaniment for the dance, thus tying the two cultural forms together
as symbolic expressions of new ethnic pride and identity. The Cazimero brothers
have a halau of dancers, trained by Roland, who have become part of their regular
show5? and, since the late 1970s, the music journal Hacilono Mele has been devoting
equal time to both music and hula. Many of the new groups will perform musically
for various halaus in the Merrie Monarch and King Kamehameha competitions and
support the dancers at many local shows and benefits.51

Finally, mention should be made of the general style of presentation of the
singers, groups, and dancers. In dress, they often wear the simple clothing of the
Hawaiian working class or the traditional clothes and leis of the Hawaiian past-as
opposed to the flashy uniforms and suits of many of the Waikiki performers. As
Israel Kamakawiwaole of the Makaha Sons of Nicihau says; “We just us, man. We
wear our own clothes, what our momma made for us. You don’t like us, that’s
tough. You better leave, yeah?”52

The development of a “new” music in Hawaii in the late 1960s and early 1970s
and its focal position in what has been termed the Hawaiian Renaissance clearly
illustrates the points made concerning the place of music in social movements
made in the first part of this paper.

The new music, in its choice of lyrics, its use of the Hawaiian language, and its
modes of presentation, serves to identify sources of discontent of the local popula-
tion and to address, to a great extent, three major issues prominent as social con-
cerns in Hawaii: (1) land use issues, (2) ecological and cultural impacts of mass tour-
ism, and (3) the destruction of traditional culture and the dying out of the Hawaiian
race.

Although not pointing specifically at modes of solution to these problems in
most cases-the Naval bombing of Kahocolawe being a strong exception-the mu-
sic is more apt to imply solutions in a more traditional and subtle manner of Kaona,
or hidden meaning in the lyrics and the style of presentation. That it has been effec-
tive is implied in the comments of John Waihee, leader of the 1978 State Constitu-
tional Convention, at which amendments were passed to establish the Office of
Hawaiian Affairs and to address problems of traditional Hawaiian rights, educa-
tion, and lands. Waihee stated flatly that the renaissance was “the glue that kept
the package together,” and that “you cannot understand how it all happened with-
out understanding the renaissance.””53

In addition, by tying these pressing social issues to the traditional cultural and

50 Lewis

musical forms, the artists have also tied them to the central values and symbols of
the Hawaiian people, giving them at the same time cultural legitimacy and emo-
tional urgency. “The Renaissance was the incubator for a lot of the sympathetic
feelings that Kahocolawe received from among Hawaiians, especially young Ha-

waiians. . . . The protest songs written by young composers were part and parcel
of the resurgence of Hawaiian music. The rhetoric of aloha caina symbolized the
whole movement of going back to the source, listening to our kupuna, finding our

roots.”54
As George Kanahele implies, the new music is also extremely effective as a

unifier, a vehicle through which general social solidarity can be achieved. Kanahele
has remarked elsewhere, “We are seeing the ‘Great Gathering’ of the Hawaiians–
at hula competitions, musical concerts, song contests, . . . and church meetings.
There are far more occasions for Hawaiians to gather today than at any other time
in recent memory, and consequently, many more are being thrown together, lead-

ing to better communication and acquaintanceships-what the Maoris call ‘group
rhythm.’ “55

That these social rituals, with Hawaiian music and dance as the focal point in

many cases, have been effective in helping to establish a common consciousness
and concern with pressing social issues on the part of Hawaiians can be seen in

many areas of life in the state. The Honolulu Advertiser remarked in an editorial on
March 23, 1982: “A movement which some people dismissed as short-lived and

superficial has become well established in many areas. Political changes have been
the most visible. The unique office of Hawaiian Affairs is now a reality and fact

finding by the Native Hawaiian Study Commission is well underway. . . . Most

people here have a special concern for the Hawaiian people and culture, stemming
in part from a sense of injustice at the disadvantaged circumstances in which many
find themselves.”56

The contribution of the music of the Hawaiian Renaissance to the social

changes underway in the state should not be overlooked. Before dismissing music
as “epiphenomenal,” as some do, one should at least consider the question of
whether it may be of more basic influence as an impetus to social change and as a

support and legitimizer of social protest movements-as the case study reported
on in this paper clearly suggests it to be.

NOTES

1. Alan P. Merriam, The Anthropology of
Music (Evanston: Northwestern University
Press, 1964), p. 147.

2. R. Serge Denisoff, Great Day Coming:
Folk Music and the American Left (Urbana:
University of Illinois Press, 1971); R. Serge
Denisoff and R. A. Peterson, The Sounds of
Social Change (Chicago: Rand McNally,
1972); Archie Green, “American Labor

Lore: Its Meanings and Uses,” Industrial Re-
lations, 4 (1965), 51-68; Charles Keil, Urban
Blues (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1966).

3. Phillippe Carles and Jean-Louis Cor-
nolli, Free Jazz, Black Power (Paris: Champ
Libre, 1971); Joe Ferrandino, “Rock Culture
and the Development of Social Conscious-
ness,” Radical America, 3 (1969), 11-34;

Da Kine Sounds: Music as Social Protest 51

Jerome Rodnitzky, Minstrels of the Dawn
(New York: Nelson-Hall, 1976).

4. Ernest Cashmore, Rastaman: The Ras-
tafarian Movement in England (London:
George Allen and Unwin, 1979), pp. 1-134;
Marco d’Eramo, “The Rhetorics of Protest:
Brassens and Dylan,” Cultures, 2 (1975), 53-
104; Barbara Finlay, “Nonverbal Aspects of
Nationalism in Musical Protest,” (Corval-
lis, Oregon: unpublished); George H.
Lewis, “This Bitter Earth: Protest and Style
in Black Popular Music,” National Forum,
Summer (1982), 37-41; Joseph Nalven,
“Some Notes on Chicano Music as a Path-
way to Community Identity,” The New
Scholar, 5 (1973), 73-93; Tim Patterson,
“Popular Culture and Organic Intellectual-
ity,” Insurgent Sociologist, 5 (1974), 67-72;
John Robinson, R. Pilskain, and P. Hirsch,
“Protest Rock and Drugs,” Journal of Com-
munication, 25 (1976), 125-36.

5. George H. Lewis, “Popular Music:
Symbolic Transformer of Meaning in Soci-
ety,” International Review of the Sociology of
Music, 12 (1983), 247-58; George H. Lewis,
“The Meaning’s in the Music: Popular Mu-
sic As Symbolic Communication,” Theory,
Culture and Society, 3 (1983), 56-68.

6. Norman Denzin, “Problems in Ana-
lyzing Elements of Mass Cultures: Notes on
the Popular Song and Other Artistic Pro-
ductions,” American Journal of Sociology, 75
(1970), 1035-38; George H. Lewis, “The So-
ciology of Popular Culture,” Current Sociol-
ogy, 26 (1978), 26-28.

7. David Aberle, “A Note on Relative
Deprivation Theory as Applied to Millenar-
ian and Other Cult Movements,” Reader in
Comparative Religion, Lessa & Vogt, eds.
(New York: Harper and Row, 1965), pp. 84-
98; Neil Smelser, Theory of Collective Behavior
(New York: Free Press, 1963), pp. 36-57;
Ralph Turner, “The Theme of Contempo-
rary Social Movements,” British Journal of
Sociology, 20 (1969), 390-405.

8. John Wilson, Social Movements (Bos-
ton: Basic Books, 1973), pp. 12-74.

9. David Aberle, Reader in Comparative
Religion (New York: Harper and Row,
1965), pp. 214-36.

10. Anthony Oberschall, Social Conflict
and Social Movements (Englewood Cliffs,
N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1973), pp. 7-38.

11. Mayer Zald and J. McCarthy, The Dy-
namics of Social Movements (Cambridge,
Mass.: Winthrop, 1979), pp. 1-12; Louis

Zurcher and D. Snow, “Collective Behavior
and Social Movements,” Sociological Contri-
butions to Social Psychology, Rosenberg and
Turner, eds. (New York: Basic Books, 1981),
pp. 247-61.

12. Malcolm Spector and N. Kitsuse,
Constructing Social Problems (Menlo Park,
Ca.: Cummings, 1977), pp. 111-29.

13. Barbara Finlay, “Nonverbal Aspects
of Nationalism in Musical Protest” (Corval-
lis, Ore.: Unpublished, 1980).

14. d’Eramo, “The Rhetorics of Protest:
Brassens and Dylan,” pp. 53-104; Joe Fer-
randino, “Rock Culture and the Develop-
ment of Social Consciousness,” Radical
America, 3 (1969), 11-34.

15. Cashmore, Rastaman pp. 64-124; Wil-
liam Gamson, The Strategy of Social Protest
(Homewood, Ill.: Dorsey, 1975), pp. 51-89.

16. George H. Lewis, “The Structure of
Support in Social Movements,” British Jour-
nal of Sociology, 27 (1976), 311-26.

17. George H. Lewis, “Social Protest and
Self Awareness in Black Popular Music,”
Popular Music and Society, 4 (1973), 37-42;
Lewis, ‘This Bitter Earth: Protest and Style in
Black Popular Music,” pp. 37-41.

18. Malcolm Spector and N. Kitsuse,
Constructing Social Problems (Menlo Park,
CA: Cummings, 1977), pp. 47-89.

19. Lewis, “Social Protest and Self
Awareness in Black Popular Music,” pp.
37-42.

20. Randall Collins, Sociologist Insight
(New York: Oxford, 1982) p. 71.

21. George Kanahele, “Hawaiian Renais-
sance,” Honolulu Advertiser, March 24,
1977, p. 1.

22. Jerry Hopkins, The Hula (Hong Kong:
Apa, 1982), pp. 14-18.

23. Nona Beamer, “Interview,” Da Kine
Sound (Hawaii: Press Pacifica, 1978), p. 142.

24. George E. K. Awai, “Interview,”
Hacilono Mele, 3, 8 (1977) 5.

25. Jerry Hopkins, “Hawaiian Music and
Dance,” Insight (Hong Kong: Apa, 1980),
pp. 319-28; Johnny Noble, “Hawaiian Mu-
sicians in the Jazz Era,” Paradise of the Pa-
cific, 45 (1943), 22.

26. Tony Todaro, The Golden Years of Ha-
waiian Entertainment (Honolulu: Tony To-
daro, 1974), p. 17.

27. Hopkins, The Hula, p. 5-8.
28. Nathan Kent, “A New Kind of Sugar,” A

New Kind of Sugar (Honolulu: East-West
Center, 1977), pp. 172-77.

52 Lewis

29. Krash Kealoha, “Krash Kealoha Tells
Why He Left KCCN,” Hacilono Mele, 7, 4
(1981) 1 and 6-8.

30. Krash Kealoha, “Interview,” Hono-
lulu, 10 (1973), 35.

31. Phillips Pahinui, “Interview,” Hono-
lulu, 13 (1978), 38.

32. Peter Moon, “Moon Bridges Gap,”
Hacilono Mele, 3, 2 (1977), 7.

33. Palani Vaughn, “Interview,” Hono-
lulu, 14 (1979), 146.

34. Moon, “Moon Bridges Gap,” p. 6.
35. Peter Moon, “Peter Moon: A Man For

All Seasons,” Hacilono Mele, 1 (1981), 5.
36. Hacilono Mele, “HMF’s Tenth Anni-

versary,” Hacilono Mele, 7, 3 (1983), 1-8.
37. George Kanahele, “Hawaiian Renais-

sance Grips, Changes Island History,”
Hacilono Mele, 5, 7 (1979), 4-5.

38. Jerry Hopkins, “Interview,” Hacilono
Mele, 7, 7 (1981), 9-11; Hopkins, The Hula p.
136.

39. Ibid.
40. Jerry Hopkins, personal conversa-

tions, Honolulu, 1983.
41. George Kanahele, Hawaiian Renais-

sance (Honolulu: WAIAHA Press, 1982), 15.

42. Robert Kamohalu and B. Burlingame,
Da Kine Sound (Hawaii: Press Pacifica,
1978), p. 122.

43. George Helm, “Language-Pain Revo-
lution,” Hacilono Mele, 2, 6 (1976), 3.

44. Olomana, “Interview,’ Da Kine Sound
(Hawaii: Press Pacifica, 1978), p. 47.

45. Helm, “Language-Pain Revolution,”
p. 3.

46. Walter Ritte, “Interview,” Honolulu,
15 (1982), 68.

47. Helm, “Language-Pain Revolution,”
p. 3.

48. Vaughn, “Interview,” p. 147.
49. Olomana, “Interview,” p. 45.
50. Roland Cazimero, “Interview,” Da

Kine Sound (Hawaii: Press Pacifica, 1978), p.
113.

51. Israel Kamakawiwaole, personal con-
versation, Honolulu, 1982.

52. Ibid.
53. George Kanahele, “Hawaiian Renais-

sance Grips, Changes Island History,” p. 7.
54. Ibid., 8.
55. Kanahele, Hawaiian Renaissance p. 30.
56. Honolulu Advertiser, “Editorial,”

March 23, 1982, p. 8.

Article Contents

p. [38]
p. 39
p. 40
p. 41
p. 42
p. 43
p. 44
p. 45
p. 46
p. 47
p. 48
p. 49
p. 50
p. 51
p. 52

Issue Table of Contents

American Music, Vol. 2, No. 2 (Summer, 1984), pp. 1-118
Front Matter
Conlon Nancarrow: Interviews in Mexico City and San Francisco [pp. 1-24]
Toward a Reevaluation of Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess [pp. 25-37]
Da Kine Sounds: The Function of Music as Social Protest in the New Hawaiian Renaissance [pp. 38-52]
New York City Concert Life, 1801-5 [pp. 53-69]
The Search for Identity in American Music, 1890-1920 [pp. 70-81]
Book Reviews
Review: untitled [pp. 82-86]
Review: untitled [pp. 86-88]
Review: untitled [pp. 88-89]
Review: untitled [pp. 89-90]
Review: untitled [pp. 90-92]
Review: untitled [pp. 92-94]
Review: untitled [p. 94]
Review: untitled [pp. 94-95]
Review: untitled [pp. 95-97]
Review: untitled [pp. 97-98]
Review: untitled [pp. 98-100]
Review: untitled [pp. 100-101]
Review: untitled [pp. 101-102]
Review: untitled [pp. 102-103]
Review: untitled [pp. 103-105]
Review: untitled [pp. 105-108]
Review: untitled [pp. 108-110]
Review: untitled [pp. 110-111]
Review: untitled [pp. 111-114]
Review: untitled [pp. 114-115]
Review: untitled [pp. 115-117]
Review: untitled [pp. 117-118]
Back Matter

86 Commentaries

In order to understand how our literature is empowering to us, nā

Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian people), one must first look to our ’ōlelo

makuahine, our Indigenous language base, and the mana’o (thoughts)

expressed within its embrace. A traditional ’ōlelo no’ eau (proverb), i ka

’ōlelo ke ola, i ka ’ōlelo ka make, “in the language is life, in the language is

death,” speaks to the power of language, as words have the ability to heal

or destroy.1 ’Ōlelo is “language, speech, word, utterance; to speak, say,

tell; oral communication.2 ’Ōlelo is the root of our word for stories oral

or written, mo’olelo. Mo’olelo is formed from two words: ’ōlelo, language,

and mo’o, a “succession [or] series”; thus mo’o ’ōlelo is “a succession of

talk, as all stories were oral, not written,” although today the term also

encompasses written literature.3

Until American Calvinist missionaries created a Hawaiian alphabet

and writing system after their arrival to the Hawaiian islands in 1819, all

Kanaka Maoli literature was oral. By inventing a Hawaiian alphabet, the

missionaries were able to teach Kanaka Maoli reading and writing; by the

early 1830s the first missionary-controlled printing press was established,

and by 1861 the first of several dozen independent Kanaka Maoli Hawai-

ian-language newspapers, which flourished from 1861 through the 1930s,

came into existence. From the beginning Kanaka Maoli enthusiastically

embraced the technology of writing as a new method of recording oral

traditions such as mo’olelo, oli, mele, mo’okū’auhau (genealogies), and

other kinds of information they wanted to preserve and share. Rather

than replace oral tradition, the technology of writing expanded the ca-

pability of recording and sharing information within the lāhui Hawai’i

(Hawaiian nation). Kanaka Maoli wrote down and published, side by

Hä, Mana, Leo (Breath, Spirit, Voice)

Kanaka Maoli Empowerment through Literature

ku’ualoha ho’omanawanui

COMMENTARIES

01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 86

chf

side, traditional Hawaiian mo’olelo (such as the epic of Pele, the Hawai-

ian goddess of the volcano), mo’olelo from other countries translated

into the Hawaiian language (such as The Tempest, Tarzan, and 20,000

Leagues Under the Sea), and also created new mo’olelo (such as the ro-

mance of Lā’ieikawai). These and other mo’olelo ranged in length from

a paragraph to over one thousand pages and comprised the bulk of the

typically eight-page long newspaper. Thus, Hawaiian literature, com-

posed in the Native language, flourished for approximately one hundred

years.

The overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy by U.S. military – backed

American businessmen in 1893 had devastating effects on Hawaiian

mo’olelo, as the subsequent foreign-run Provisional Government banned

the Hawaiian language, replacing it with English as the official and

sole language of the islands. Thus, by the 1930s the number of Hawaiian-

language speakers began to drop dramatically, resulting in the death of the

Hawaiian-language newspaper industry. Because the Hawaiian language

was severely eroded by colonial laws and social enforcement during this

time, very little Kanaka Maoli literature was published from the 1940s un-

til the revival of Hawaiian politics and cultural practices in the 1960s, a pe-

riod generally referred to today as “the Hawaiian renaissance.” While

some cultural arts (like hula) have flourished, others, such as Indigenous-

produced literature, have grown at a much slower rate. No one knows ex-

actly why Kanaka Maoli – produced literature has not prospered as much

as our other culture arts, although some speculate there are several pos-

sible reasons, such as the banning of our ancestral language over one hun-

dred years ago, which cut us off from self expression; writing, because a

foreign introduction, is often viewed as a colonial tool of oppression

rather than an Indigenous tool of empowerment; the resistance to literacy

(reading and writing) equals resistance to colonialism. Generations of

Kanaka Maoli who have been indoctrinated by a colonial education sys-

tem to believe that anything Native is never “good enough” has led to a

lack of confidence in the ability to write anything worthwhile at all. Yet as

these views and attitudes toward the creation of new Kanaka Maoli liter-

ature have prevailed, a small but determined group of Kanaka Maoli writ-

ers have continued to struggle against overwhelming odds to perform,

write, and publish Kanaka Maoli literature.

For at least two thousand years and numerous generations before

Western contact in 1778, our mo’olelo were passed down orally from ha’i

american indian quarterly / winter & spring 2004/ vol. 28, nos. 1 & 2 87

01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 87

mo’olelo (storyteller) to ha’i mo’olelo, from kumu hula (dance master) to

kumu hula, from kanaka (person) to kanaka. Tradition tells us that while

some of our great epics took days to recount, audiences were enthusias-

tic recipients of our ancestral mo’olelo, particularly when they took the

form of hula, our traditional dance form practiced by men and women

alike.

Hula is and always has been an important storytelling vehicle for

Hawaiian mo’olelo, so much so that in the nineteenth century Ali’i Nui

(king) David La’amea Kalākaua proclaimed it “the heartbeat of the

Hawaiian people.” In fact, hula is so inextricably tied to storytelling that

it is impossible to choreograph any dance movement without ’ōlelo,

without words, as each motion is meant to illustrate the mo’olelo itself.

Branded “lewd and lascivious” by Calvinist missionaries, it was officially

banned as a cultural practice in the 1830s. Yet many hālau hula (hula

schools /dance troupes) continued to practice and perpetuate hula in se-

cret despite missionary protest. Fortunately, their efforts kept hula alive,

and today it is a flourishing art.

Together with the chanting of oli (chant) and the singing of mele

(songs), the practice of hula is empowering for many Kanaka Maoli

today in a myriad of ways —first and foremost because it continues to

link us to our ancestors, particularly through the use of ’ōlelo Hawai’i

(Hawaiian language) texts both old and new. By practicing our ’ōlelo

makuahine, we continue to value the mana’o (thoughts, expressions) of

our ancestors through our common language, allowing us a glimpse of

their worldview, which often contradicts or refutes the colonial perspec-

tives taught in schools that ignores, demeans, and /or suppresses our

pilina (connections) and kulena (responsibilities) to the ’āina (land) and

each other. For example, Western science teaches that the formation of

the earth and the evolution of humans were separate occurrences, while

the Kumulipo, a foundational Hawaiian creation epic, recounts the birth

of the universe, earth, and all living creatures, including Kanaka Maoli,

who are thus genealogically related to the land. In addition, the mo’olelo

of Papahānaumoku, our Earth Mother, and Wākea, our Sky Father, re-

minds us that the kalo plant is our elder sibling, and it is our responsi-

bility to cultivate and care for it, as it feeds and sustains us in return.

By learning, understanding, and perpetuating the mo’olelo of our

kūpuna (elders, ancestors), Kanaka Maoli are empowered with tradi-

tional ’ike (knowledge). This ’ike inspires us to continue to kū’ē, to resist

88 Commentaries

01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 88

and to stand in opposition against colonization and against foreign dom-

ination, suppression, and appropriation of who we are and what our cul-

ture is and means to us. Our great ali’i Kamehameha encouraged his

warriors with these words: I mua e nā pōki’i, a inu i ka wai ’awa’awa, “go

forth young brethren, and drink of the bitter waters,” a sentiment echoed

by many modern Kanaka Maoli writers in our mo’olelo today.

African American writer Toni Morrison has written that “the best art

is political.” 4 One of the foremost elements of politics, of course, is

power. Thus, the fact that Kanaka Maoli are performing traditional hula

as well as composing and choreographing new hula is a political act of

cultural empowerment. In a similar way, the perpetuation of traditional

mo’olelo, through hula or otherwise, inspires us to create and haku

(compose) new stories, which allows us to communicate our thoughts,

feelings, and experiences of our time with our contemporaries. Simulta-

neously, it enables us to leave a record of these experiences for future gen-

erations, as our ancestors have left a record (through their stories) of

their mana’o and experiences. One of the best examples of this is the pro-

liferation of voyaging-related mele composed from the late 1970s through

1990s, inspired by the launching of Hōkūle’a, the first modern-day long-

distance Polynesian voyaging canoe. The success of Hōkūle’a re-instilled

pride in our rich voyaging traditions across Polynesia, inspiring the cre-

ation of dozens of other voyaging canoes and voyages across the Pacific,

as well as the reestablishment of an older genre of mo’olelo, the mele

honoring the wa’a kaulua (double-hulled canoe) and the crew who

sailed them.

Beginning in the 1960s Kanaka Maoli began to once again write and

publish as our ancestors had done a hundred years prior. This time,

however, the dominant languages of choice were English and Hawai’i

Creole English (hce), popularly referred to in Hawai’i as “pidgin.” Yet

despite our ancestral language being forcibly removed from our memo-

ries and tongues, Kanaka Maoli writers have successfully manipulated

this colonial language as a tool of empowerment and cultural expression

in a way described by African writer Chinua Achebe when he pro-

claimed, “I have been given the language, and I intend to use it.” 5 Con-

temporary Kanaka Maoli writers such as Haunani-Kay Trask, ’Īmai-

kalani Kalahele, Joseph Puna Balaz, and Mahealani Kamau’u are but a

few of the more well-known poets who are recognized for their biting in-

terrogation of colonization through the word images in their works, best

american indian quarterly / winter & spring 2004/ vol. 28, nos. 1 & 2 89

01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 89

summarized by Trask’s metaphor of Kanaka Maoli writing as the “rope

of resistance” for “unborn generations.” 6

Regardless of language (Hawaiian, English, hce), time period (pre-

contact until today), and sociopolitical circumstances, Kanaka Maoli

have always been, and continue to be, empowered by our mo’olelo in two

primary ways: practice and theme, which includes kaona (metaphor). By

practice I mean the actual art of composing, performing, publishing,

and perpetuating mo’olelo. As Morrison suggests, the very act of creat-

ing Kanaka Maoli mo’olelo, as opposed to mimicking Western writing,

is political, and thus empowering, as the composer asserts a cultural-

political stance that our literature is important and worthy of being shared

and perpetuated. The composition of mo’olelo ranges from writing in

traditional genres of literature, such as pana (stories celebrating place), to

working in Western and other genres of fiction, poetry, and drama.

Thematically, Kanaka Maoli literature values the use of kaona (under-

lying meaning) and the use of traditional metaphors. Contemporary

Kanaka Maoli writers strive to keep these important features of our tra-

ditional mo’olelo prominent in our writing today regardless of the lan-

guage in which we are composing. The continued upholding of central

cultural images such as kalo (taro), the staple crop and elder sibling of

Kanaka Maoli, and ideas such as hulihia (to overturn) illustrate aspects

of our culture and traditions that continue to sustain us physically, spir-

itually, emotionally, and creatively.

Relatively new, ’Ōiwi: A Native Hawaiian Journal (established in 1998)

is the first journal in contemporary times dedicated to the expression of

Kanaka Maoli writers and artists in all genres and languages.7 As an edi-

tor for the journal, I am always humbled by the positive feedback and

kind words of appreciation from the Kanaka Maoli communities across

the pae’āina (islands) and abroad. In this capacity, I have experience

firsthand how our mo’olelo continues to empower and encourage our

lāhui. And so we go on. Kanaka Maoli writer Kau’i Goodhue states:

Hawaiians say “hāweo” to refer to a glow of light that makes things

visible. It is in the light of knowledge that the darkness and confu-

sion of the past . . . are now being destroyed and the heroic deeds of

our ancestors are being revealed. The responsibility is now ours to

carry on where they left off. From resistance to affirmation, we are

who we were.8

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01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 90

In this sense, Kanaka Maoli today are sustained, fed, and empowered by

our ’ōlelo, by the mo’olelo of our ancestors, by the literary ropes of re-

sistance we weave for future generations who will, in turn, continue to

travel the path of our ancestors i ka wā pono, when the time is right.

notes

1. Mary Kawena Pukui, ’Ōlelo No’eau: Hawaiian Proverbs and Poetical Say-

ings (Honolulu: Bishop Museum Press, 1986), 129.

2. Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary, rev. ed.

(Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1986), 284.

3. Pukui and Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary, 253, 254.

4. Quoted in The Norton Anthology of African American Literature, ed. Henry

Louis Gates Jr. and Nellie Y. McKay (New York: W. W. Norton, 1997), 2094.

5. Quoted in Ngugi Wa Thiongo, Decolonizing the Mind: The Politics of Lan-

guage in African Literature (London: James Currey, 1981), 7.

6. Haunani-Kay Trask, Light in the Crevice Never Seen (Corvallis or: Calyx

Books, 1994), 56.

7. Information about the journal is available at www.hawaii.edu /oiwi.

8. Kau’i P. Goodhue, “We Are Who We Were: From Resistance to Affirma-

tion,” ’Ōiwi: A Native Hawaiian Journal 1 (1998): 39.

american indian quarterly / winter & spring 2004/ vol. 28, nos. 1 & 2 91

01a-N3246 11/9/04 7:00 AM Page 91

CHAPTER 2

PAPALAG

IN THE PACIFIC: THE LANGUAGEOFGUNS

Polynesians had explored and settled most of the islands in the “vasaloloa” (vast

sacred space) extending from Aotearoa in the South to Hawai’i in the North and to Rapanui

in the East at least 3,000 years from the present, and yet they were often portrayed in

literature and European narratives as people whose ancestors either drifted to the islands or

found them accidentally.

‘This chapter examines the arrival of Europeans in the Pacific_aE!d their attempts at

describing or defining the indigenous peoples they met, and explaining how they happened

to be in the Pacific. Their curiosity and initial amazement led to explanations of Polynesian

origins that begana European narrative of Polynesian history in general and Samoan

history in particular, a history that diminished Polynesian achievements as navigators, and,

in the case of Samoans, contested that they were at all deserving of the title the

“Navigators.” Samoans were known in the 1700s among Europeans as “great

navigators,” but were, by the 1800s referred to as “quite domestic” so that by 1900, when

the “FiUlfita” was formed, they were to be a land-bound unit of landsmen in the United

States Navy.

The US did not send an expedition into the Pacific until the Wilkes Expedition in .

1838. China, Spain, Holland, Portugal, Great Britain and Russia had all sent multiple

expeditions into the Pacific before the US became a nation. France and the US came

relatively late into the Pacific, but they continue to hold on to their “possessions” while the

other countries had lost or given up theirs.

“Explorers”: Colonizing the Narrative

Early colonizers who happened by Samoa took back to Europe the first descriptions

of Samoans, starting the European narrative of Samoan history. Europeans projected on to

Samoans their constructions of good and evil, labeling Samoans, on the one hand, impudent,

~. ~ .~

; : 7 7 wsr Tn? tm-

39 I

vicious savages to be avoided or tamed, and on the other hand, as great navigators and a fine

people: This contradictory narrative reflected both European arritudes and Europeans’

construction of a colonized inferior, a savage other, a noble savage. I
Polynesian and other thriving Pacific island civilizations of the 16th century had

extensive sailing routes and systems of infonnation exchange which covered much of the I
Pacific. Within this larger network of communication and trade routes were smaller regions

such as the Samoa-Tonga-Fiji triangle. Samoa to the north, Tonga to the south and Fiji to I
the west fonned a central nexus of power in the South Pacific: Each of the three island

groups represents trade and kingship systems which incorporated its immediate island

neighbors, so that this triangle of power’s influence reached well beyond its geographical •
boundaries each with its respective geopolitical domain, traded and exchanged goods, •primarily to support alliances and kinship relations:

The arrival of voyagers, often tired, hungry and without supplies, was a normal part •
of island life and integral to maintaining communication among the island groups.

Welcoming ceremonies and rituals clarified the purpose of the visit and the potential for •
alliances: Hosts brought out the best for visitors, knowing that when it would be their tum

to travel, the guests would reciprocate: It was an opportunity to learn about the visitors and

places they have been to, catching up on news and information about relatives on other

islands, and sharing sailing insights: One or two members of the traveling party might stay

with their new friends and a few of the hosts may join the traveling party when they

resumed their journey: They exchanged goods and people to memorialized alliances and

friendship. ~ III
•

The arrival of Europeans in the Pacific radically changed all this. From the outset,

these new voyagers with guns and diseases left devastation everywhere they went Stories

III

about these strangers and diseases they brought filtered throughout the extensive network of

sailing routes so that islanders heard about Europeans or died from new diseases long III
before any European actually landed on their shores: ,-<

III

•

100

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The first European colonizer in the Pacific was Fernao de Magalhaes (Magellan), a

Portuguese who sailed for Don Carlo, the king of Spain, in 1519 to find a “Southwest

Passage to the Moluccas” (Spice Islands) and according to O.H.K.Spate, with the

additional “possible objective” of wealth in gold from the Ryuku Islands.’ Magellan was

convinced that the Mollucas lay within the Spanish side of the Tordesillas line, assuming the

line divided the globe into two hemispheres. 2 “The main provision of the treaty signed in

1494 at Tordesillas, an obscure little town in Valladolid, was the placing of the demarcation

lineat.a position of 370 leagues west of the Cape Verdes.”] Undiscovered tenitories and

peoples to’the West of the line were under Spanish jurisdiction, and those to the East were

under Portuguese.

After a year and three months o.f searching for a southwest passage along the

southern end of what is now South America, Magellan found the straight which today bears

his name: entering into the “Pacific Sea” on November 28, 1520.4 Magellan’s voyage

across the Pacific was exceptional in that he missed hundreds of inhabited Polynesian

islands between Guam and South America. Given Magellan’s penchant for violence and

eagerness to kidnap nati ves to take back to Spain, perhaps it was fortunate for Pacific

Islanders that he sailed to the north of some of the most populous islands in the South
“

Pacific. Antonio Pigafetta, one of three recorders who accompanied Magellan described

their arduous ordeal across the Pacific:

We were three months and twenty days without getting any
kind of fresh food. We ate biscuit, which was no longer
biscuit, but powder of biscuits swarming with worms, for
they had eaten the good. It stank strongly of the urine of
rats. We drank yellow water that had been putrid for many
days. We also ate some ox hides that covered the top of the
mainyard to prevent the yard from chafing the shrouds, and
which had become exceedingly hard because of the sun, rain,
and wind. We left them in the sea for four or five days, and
then placed them for a few moments on top of the embers,
and so ate them; and often we ate sawdust from boards. Rats
were sold one-haIf ducado apiece, and even then we could not
get them. But above all the other misfortunes the following
was the worst The gums of both the lower and upper teeth
of some of our men swelled, so that they could not eat under
any circumstances and therefore died. Nineteen men died

101

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41

from that sickness, and the giant together with an Indian from

•
•

the country of Verzin. Twenty-five or thirty men fell sick
[during that time/. in the arms, legs, or another place, so that.
but few remained well. 5

Magellan’s crew, much like Polynesians who sailed the Pacific vastness, were, after

months at sea, tired and without fresh food or water; however, they were, in addition, dying

or sick with scurvy, a disease unknown to Pacific islanders. As sick and weakened as

Magellan and his crew were, they had enough strength to attack the Chamorros, secure their

missing skiff and steal fresh supplies.
6

Pigafetta’s account of Magellan’s raid on the

Chamorros suggests an additional reason for the attack may have been to secure human

entrails which the crew believed cured scurvy. Pigafetta wrote that:

The men were about to strike the sails so that we could go
ashore, but the nati ves very deftly stole from us the small
boat that was fastened to the poop of the flagship.
Thereupon, the captain-general in wrath went ashore with
forty armed men, who burned some forty or fifty houses
together with many boats, killed seven men. He recovered
the small boat, and we departed immediately pursuing the
same course. Before we landed, some of the sick men
begged us if we should kill any man or woman to bring the
entrails to them, as they would recover immediately.7

Magellan’s galleon reflected the established practice for early colonizing voyages

into the Pacific. Crews were multi-racial, and they used guns against indigenous people

with little provocation. Many of the sick and tired crew jumped ship as soon as they landed

on the islands.8 These multi-racial crews with arms became a permanent part of Pacific

peoples’ experience of European colonizers for the next 300 years.

Magellan’s crew of 265 had in addition to the Spanish at least 37 Portuguese, 30 or

more Genoese and Italians, 19 French, and the rest made up of “Aemings, Germans,

Sicilians,”English, Corfiotes, Malays, Negroes, Moors, Madeirans, and natives of the Azores

and Canary Islands” and “Biscayans.’19 These”long voyages were very dangerous, as

scurvy and other diseases usually killed up to half the crew. While t.he captain and officers

were rewarded well at the end of a successful voyage, ‘seamen, mostly poor and people of

color, soon found themselves in the familiar company of poverty.

102

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Magellan used-an elaborate system of light combinations and canon fire to send

I directions to the other ships in the galleon. “If he showed a greater number of lights. or
fired a mortar, it was a signal of land or of shoals. “10 When the galleon discovered what is

I
I now the Magellan Strait, they “discharged a number of mortars, and burst into cheers.”11

Spain sent at least four major expeditions into the Pacific after Magellan, gradually

I
moving southward of the familiar route from South America to Guam and the Philippines

so that Quiros in 1606 visited one of the Tokelau islands, the Swains Island that is now part

I
of American Samoa. The Portugese and the Dutch were a minor presence in the Pacific

compared to the Spanish, but it was the Dutch who were the first E~~eans to interact with

people in the central south Pacific. 12

I In 1615, ninety-five years after Magellan. Dutch colonizers William Cornelison
Schouten of Hom and Jaques Le Maire left Holland to find a second southwest passage to

I the Pacific, and found one south of Magellan’s straight which he labeled as “Le Maire’s
Straight.” They arrived at Tonga in 1616, becoming the first European to make contact

I
I within the main Samoa-Tonga-Fiji triangle. Unfortunately for the Tongans, Schouten and

Le Maire were as murderous as Magellan. On meeting a double sailing canoe heading

I
towards them in open waters between Samoa and Tonga, they:

fired a gun or two for them to strike; but those in the bark not
understanding the language of guns, the Dutch sent their
shallop with ten musqueteers to take her: upon which she
endevoured to make her escape, but the shallop intercepting

I her, some of her men threw themselves and their goods

I
overboard; but when the shallop boarded her, those who were
left made not the least resistance, but quietly surrendered to
the conquerors, who used them very kindly, dressed their
wounds, saved the Jives of those who have leaped into the sea,

I
and entertained all of them in the ship…The Dutch did not
keep them long on their ship; for after satisfying their
curiosity in examining so singular a bark, sent them back to
their vessel, where the women expressed their joy, by
embracing their husbands. 13

I It is unclear whether the estimated “twenty-three of these people, among whom were
eight women and several children”14 were Tongan or Samoan, though they clearly did

I speak the “language of guns.” This was n”ot a war party, but a typical voyage between

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island groupStoVlslt reTaIives or attend special ceremonies. Throwing cargo overboard and •
men jumping into the water were ways to lighten the canoe so it could stay afloat when

damaged and allow it to tack faster to avoid capture. Te Rangi Hiroa identified the canoe

from the illustration as of Tongan design, and went on to say that “some of the occupants

of the canoe were recklessly killed and the Dutch, conscious of their brutality, tried to make

amends by giving presents to the people before allowing the canoe to continue on its

way.,,15

The Dutch, likewise, continued on their way arriving two days later at Tafahi and

Niuotabutabu, islands in Tonga. 16 They were met by “another of the same kind of barks,

which sailed so fast” that Dutch ships could not keep her company. II Tongans extended

them the traditional peaceful welcome indicated by showing strips of white (bare) tapa, what

the Dutch referred to as “white flags” and offerings of coconuts and food. IS This was

usually an exciting time to meet the new visitors and trade before formal welcoming

ceremonies and permission to land and to recruit supplies. When the Dutch launched a

shallop before the official welcome, Tongan warriors attacked the shallop’s crew, “but one

of them being shot through the breast, they took care for the future to keep at a greater

distance. ,,19

The king formally welcomed the Dutch the next day. First he sent “the commander

a present of a black hog, charging the messenger to take no reward” then he gave the

welcoming speech. 20 The Dutch responded with .trumpets and drums to which the Tongans

showed their appreciation by bowing and clapping their hands over their heads. The king

then sent the Dutch a present, “which they returned with the gift of an old hatchet, some

rusty nails, glass beads, and a piece of Hnnen cloth, which his majesty received with a low

bow; and seemed much pleased with them. ,,21 This would become the typical kind of

exchange between Polynesians and Europeans. Polynesians hosts gifting the best and most

valuable things they had, and Europeans giving in return things ofJittle value to them. ~
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The next day, the king led an attack against the Dutch, probably to avenge those the

I
I Dutch murdered at sea and the man shot the day before, for by then, they would have found

out about the massacre at sea a few days earlier. Tongan stones were no match against

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Dutch arms. The Dutch “discharging their musquets, and three great guns loaded with

musket shot and nails, into the canoes,” no doubt killing many, forcing the Tongans to

retreat22 The Dutch called this Tongan island “Traitors Island.”23

I Schouten continued west running into Futuna and Alofi, Polynesian islands west of
Tonga~northof Fiji. Again, the Dutch used every opportunity to demonstrate the power of

I their guns-. ”The noise of the guns terrified them so extremely•.!~at they fled with the

utmost precipitation, whenever they were discharged. The king, however, had a desire to

I hear one of the great guns, and for that purpose was seated under a canopy, with some of
his favourites about him in great order; but upon hearing the explosion, he leaped from his

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seat, and ran into the woods with all his courtiers after him, not withstanding all the friendly

signs made by the Dutch. ,,24

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Schouten’s description of formal welcoming and the ava could easily have been

descriptions of Samoan ceremonies, including each chief having a dove “sitting by him

upon a stick. ,,25 These early written records show much more similarity between the

I different island groups than often seen today.
In 1643, twenty seven years after Schouten, another Dutchman, Abel Janszoon

I Tasman arrived in Tonga after visiting Aotearoa, which he named “Nova Zealand” (Nieuw
Zeeland), now New Zealand. 26 The Maories of Aotearoa and Tasman engaged in deadly

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I attacks and counter attacks so that, “Tasman noting that there was nothing to do here, but

risking sailors against these savage people, set sailed, followed by several canoes: against

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which the rear-guns loaded with grape-shot let fly, and hit some: so that the canoes turned

back. ,,27

Tasman and his crew were understandably apprehensive when they eventually

I arrived in Tonga, and Tongans, many of whom remembered Schouten’s attacks, would have

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been guarded, but they extended a peaceful welcome to Tasman nonetheless. Three young ;-.-

men went out to meet Tasman, and later four warriors with the traditional tatau (tattoo)

extended welcome, “a small canoe with 4 persons sturdy men, their necks hung with Large

leaves came to the ship, bringing a little white flag and a cloth of bark of trees, they put this

said flag on the stem of our boat”28 Fonnal welcoming teremonies and gift presentations

that followed indicate that the Tongans welcomed Tasman as they would a high chief or a

king. One of the chiefs, probably the highest ranking or king, went to the ship and

“inclined his head” to their feet, the traditional welcome between chiefs or kings, except the

other person would also be bowing likewise. The Dutch, however; welcomed him in their

own fashion and showed him a cup of fresh water, “which he -showed us by signs to be

ontainable on shore: we then presented him with a knife, a small looking-glass, and a piece

of dungaree. ,,29 The chief returned to shore and sent a fonnal food gift

Towards evening about 20 prows came close to our ships,
which all stationed themselves side by side in regular order.
Before coming alongside, they made a good deal of noise,
crying out repeatedly “Woo, woo, woo,” etc., upon which
those in our ship sat down. The said prows then came
alongside, bringing a present from the king, consisting of a
fine large hog, a number of cocoa-nuts, and some yarns; the
bearer of these presents being the same person who brought
us the small white flag and the cloth of bark. We presented
them in return with a common dish such as we use at meals,
and a piece of copper-wire; we also bartered a few cocoa
nuts, baccovos, yams and a hog, etc. against nails and beads;
about nightfall they all left our ship, exce;t one who
remained to sleep on board of the Heemskercq.3

The next day, the Dutch continued brisk bartering with TOngans, loading up on

supplies and preparing to land to get fresh water. The chief returned to the ship with two

hogs for which he was given a “silver-mounted knife and 8 or 9 nails” and, more

importantly, treated to a demonstration of Dutch firepower. “We conducted him below, and

went all over the ship with him, and caused one of our great guns to be fired, at which they

were greatly frightened and ran away in amazement, but when they saw that no one was the

worse for it, they were soon s~t at ease again.”J’ This was perhaps a timely warning to the

Tongans before the Dutch sent out a heavily anned crew to look for fresh water. “We also

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put a mumber of musketeers into our pinnace, for though these natives seem to be good

natured enough, it is impossible to know what they hide in their hearts, for which reason we

armed our people to be prepared for accidents.”J2 The crew was shown two wells which

were too small for their barrels.

The following day, Tasman accompanied his crew to shore, and indicated to the

chief that the wells needed to be enlarged to make filling casks easier. The chief had his

people dig the wells, while Tasman and crew were extended Tongan royal hospitality.

We were seated, he had refreshments brought in, such as
fresh milk and cream, fresh fish and various kinds of fruit, of
which there is great abundance here, and in every way
showed us respect and friendship. They then asked us-where
we had come from, and where we were going, upon which we
told them that we had been at sea for a hundred days and
upwards, at which they were greatly astonished; we also told
them that we had come there in search of fresh water, hogs,
fowls, etc., to which they answered that they had plenty of
them, as many as we wished. We then got 8 casks filled with
water, and they presented us with four live hogs, and a
number of fowls, cocoa-nuts, bananas, etc. In return we
offered them one fathom of linen, 6 nails and six strings of
beads, for which they cordially thanked us. We then went up
to the white flag with the three chiefs, signifying to them we
wished to leave the said flag near the platform in sign of
peace and amity, at which they expressed great satisfaction,
and put the flag on their heads one after the other, thereby
giving to understand they desired nothing but our friendship.
They next fastened the flag to the baleye, as a sign that they

33had made a covenant with US.

Tasman records here a typical exchange between visitors and Polynesian hosts, the sharing

of information and the forging offriendship and alliance in peace. Tongans were amazed at

how long the Dutch had been at sea, for Tongan and Polynesian ships were much faster and

long voyages were typically no more than a week to a month. Also surprising to Tongans

was the arpount of supplies the Dutch crew needed. In addition to fresh water, Tasman

received from the Tongans “a hundred heads of hogs, 150 fowls and a reasonable quantity

of cocoa-nuts, yams and other fruit,,34 These supplies would have been enough for about

100 Tongan ships on long voyages.

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Samoans knew about papalagi long before any European ships actually visited

Samoa. It had been a hundred and six years since Schouten and seventy nine years since

Tasman visited neighboring Tonga before Jacob Roggeveen, commanding the Are:ui and

Thienhoven on a Dutch West India Company expedition visited Manu’a, the easternmost

group of Samoan islands in June, 1722. Samoan reception of Roggeveen’s expedition was

significantly different from how the Tongans recei ved Schouten and Tasman, which

suggests that the Samoans had heard about papalagi violence and were rather guarded about

them. Only a few canoes went out from Ta’u to barter with Rogeeveen:

there came two to three canoes — which were not hollowed
out trees, but made of planks and inner timbers and very
neatly joined together, so that we supposed that they must
have some tools of iron, for which they are very eager, to
make planks and other timber for use from the trees (the·
number of which is countless, as the whole island is filled up
to the high crowns of the mountains and as close as grass in
luxurian meadows) — near our ship, which had some
coconuts, which we exchanged for 5to 6 large rusty nails.35

Comelis Bouman, captain of the Thienhoven and for whom the Manu’a group was named

the Bouman Islands, noted that when he tried to get some of Samoans onto the ship, “they

would not come aboard. ,,36

Rogeveen deployed “the sloop, well provided with men and weapons, in order to

sound bottoms a.Jong the shore” but they could not find a secure anchor bottom. 37 They

did, however, go close enough to shore to meet Samoans. They offered a description of

order at Manu’a and evidence of Samoan familiarity with papaplagi and bartering items

when a Samoan chief inquired about beads.

Lastly it is still to be noted that the Upper Mate of the said
ship Thienhoven rowed in the sloop towards the shore of the
beach in order to make soundings, and having come there he
says that the King sitting in a canoe, and having by him a
young woman of 18 to 19 years, whose neck was encircled
by a string of oblong blue beads, asked the Mate by signs if
he had any such, pointing to the said string, whereupon the
Mate, by nodding his head, said yes, but indicated by his
hand towards the ship that the beads were there, and he
would bring them to the land. That this was the King he
concluded from this, beca~se when the King came near the

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sloop a thousand and more Indians were on the beach, anned

I with spears, bow and arrows, and he gave them a directing sign with his hand they should go away, which was obeyed
in the blink of an eye, all retreating into the trees so that none
of this crowd could be seen on the beach. 38 .

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I It is unclear if the warriors on the beach were a welcoming party, though they were

likely a war party given what they heard about papalagi visitors. The man in the canoe was

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likely one ofTui Maun’a’s talking chiefs (tulafale), and the woman was likely the village

“taupou” (a ceremonial woman warrior). The sacred Tui Manu’a (king of Manu’a) did

not haQdle such lowly matters as welcoming visitors at the beach. The tulafale’s ability to

I control’ his-warriors with a single wave was an indication of the ma~~ (chiefs’) power over
the common people in Manu’a. Samoan dealings with Roggeveen showed a guarded

approach, which was likely the result of knowing what Europeans did at Tonga. It is also

possible that the people Schouten and Lemaire massacred at sea near Tonga were Samoans,

which would further explain why the Manuans were cautious about the European visitors.

Rogeveen and Bouman wrote the first European description of

Samoans.

According to Rogeveen: “The Indians of this first island are like the Paaschlanders in

sturdiness and r.obustness of body, also in painting themselves, but not so much and

abundantly, as their coloring commences from the thighs downward to the legs.

Furthennore we did not see anything as covering for their nakedness, except a girdle round

the waist to which a lot of long broad leaves or rushes, or of another plant, was fastened. ,,39

Bouman added that, “The inhabitants are lively fellows, fat and sleek, in colour brownish

red, with long black, rosy hair, in appearance or countenance as I have seen many Indians in

America. ,,40

Ro~eveen and Bouman were describing traditional Samoan attire and manners. The

tattooed men were warriors sent out to check the ships. ‘The men had long black or reddish

hair and wore Utiti lau ti,” girdle ofti leaves. Though Roggeveen and Bouman’s narratives

seem an accurate enough description of the Manu’ a islands, Te Rangi Hiroa suggests that

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I”information that the people wore large hats and carried bows and arrows is characteristic of

the inaccurate additions to the Roggeveen account. ,,41

IRoggeveen also saw other Samoan islands including Upolu, considered one of the
most fertile islands in Polynesia where he could have bartered for all the supplies he needed, I
but he was not sure if he would find anchor-bottom and he feared he might miss favorable

winds for the westward journey home. He decided not to land and sailed on homeward. I
Fresh greens, fruits and water would have helped his crew, some of whom were dying from

scurvy, two died while they were in Samoa, but he was under the mistaken belief that “not I
only must fresh good food be used for nutrient, but in addition to this a fresh and agreeable

land air” were needed to cure scurvy.42 Fresh fruits rich in vitamin C and greens were I
enough to cure the scurvy. ,

Roggeven was baffled how Pacific islanders ended up in the remote islands he had

come across given they were distant from any main lands and that European navigation had I
not achieved the capacity for such long-distance sailing or colonization until relatively

recent He offered an answer to this puzzle.

Furthermore it must accordingly be agreed that these people
must either have been created there or landed and brought by
another means, and these thus preserved their race by
procreation…Since then the Spaniards or other peoples could
not have been induced by these motives to set up colonies of
Indians in these distant regions, which are outside the
acquaintance of the known world, it is accordingly very easy
to conclude that the Indians who inhabit these newly
discovered islands were bred there naturally from generation
to generation, and are descendants of Adam, although the
ability of the human understanding is powerless to
comprehend by what means they could have been
transported. For of this nature are still many other
substantial issues, which must only be believed, without any·
so-<:alled expert demonstration having a place here, when this is opposed to and in conflict with the pronouncement of Holy Writ. 43

Rogeveen’s expedition, together with the earlier expeditions of Le

Schouten and Tasman, according to Te Rangi Hiroa, “established a good

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Polynesian discoveries for the Dutch, and the Dutch seem to have rested content with

I them.’>44

Rogeveen’s account of their brief encounter with the Samoans was very

t straightforward, reporting and describing what he saw and felt. Unfortunately, some
historians embellished and added to the account in aImost fantastical ways. One historian

I
altered the story to elevate Rogeveen to a god, and Samoans to weakly simpletons. He

wrote: “Ashore, the Ta’ uan were astonished and fearful. The shi ps were larger than any

I
they had seen or supposed possible, and they placed offerings of food along the shore to

placate the’ Sailing Gods. ,,>45 He went on to describe how the S!’E0ans saw the Dutch

when they boarded their ships: “There they saw creatures who were evidently men of a

I sort, but men who had yellow hair and pink faces, covered with elastic skins which stretched
from their backs to their wrists and their toeless feet, and from whose mouths there emerged

I strange words, and at times, clouds of smoke.’>46 It is clear from the Rogeveen’ s journal’s
that Samoans did not board the ships, and the so called Samoan view of papaIagi at contact

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I recycles the European imagining of what the Samoans should have felt, and perpetuates the

myth of the all-white crews. A lot of seamen and servants on these expeditions were people

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of color.

It would be another 46 years after Rogeveen before Louis De Bougainville, the first

French colonizer in the South Pacific, arrived in Samoa on May 3, 1768 after an extended

I visit at Tahiti. He could not land because of rough seas but the Samoans, more skillful
navigators in smaIler canoes, carne out to sea and traded with him. He was so impressed by

I this feat that he changed the name he originally gave to the islands from Little Cyclades to
the “Navigator Archipelago. ,,47 But unlike the welcoming reception he received at Tahiti,

I the Samoans were “apprehensive of the visitors and traded only a few items, passing the
I

coconuts, yams, poorly made fishhooks and unattractively dyed bark cloth up from their

I
pirougue. They were little interested in the French iron tools and nails, so prized by the

Tahitians, and so the French continued on without going ashore. ,>48

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Bougainville’s account of his visit to Tahiti added French interpretation to the

romanticized descriptions of Polynesian women in general and Tahitian women in

particular. I include it here as we would see the continuatiofl of this particular narrative in

later French captains’ journals.

Bougainville and his crew were extended the customary welcome and Tahitian

hospitality. They were given food and supplies, and the beautiful women of Tahiti

welcomed the sex-starved French sailors with invitations for intimacy. “The Tahitians

wanted so little, metal nails especially, in exchange for the terrestrial delights of willing,

beautiful women and the bounty of fresh fruits, vegetables and meat that the French could

hardly believe their good fortune. ,,49 A twenty-three year old journalist with the expedition

recorded the following graphic description of a formal offering of a Tahitian young woman

to a French sailor:

The [the group of natives] made us sit down and brought us
coconuts, bananas and invited us to eat; we satisfied them.
Then we saw each one take a leafy branch and stand in a
circle around us, with one of the onlookers taking a flute
from which he blew soft and pleasant sounds, and someone
brought a mat which he spread out and on which the girl sat
The signs of all the Indians made us to understand what it
was all about; however this custom being so contrary to ours
and wanting to be reassured, one for our men approached the
offered victim, presented her with an artificial pearl which he
hung from her ear, and risked a kiss which was returned. A
bold hand motivated by love glided over the two burgeoning
apples, worthy, like Helen’s, to serve as a model for cups,
incomparable beauty and comeliness of form. The hand
soon slipped lower, and by happy chance, fell· upon the
charms still hidden by covering which was soon removed by
the girl herself, whom we then saw with the only clothing Eve
wore before her sin. She did even more; she layout on the
mat, tapped upon the chest of him who was the aggressor,
made him to understand that she was giving herself to him
and spread apart those two obstacles. impending entry to the
temple where so many men sacrifice everyday. The call was
most alluring, and the athlete caressing her knew all too well
the art of fencing so as to temporize, if the presence of fifty
Indians surrounding him hadn’t, as an effect of our
prejudices, put a brake on his violent desire; but whatever
ardor animates you, it is most difficult to discard immediately .
the ideas with which you have been brought up.so

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The time spent in Tahiti was not all playas wood, water and fresh supplies had to be

procured and loaded on the ships. The sick had to be taken to shore to be cared back to

health. sl French sailors quickly accustomed themselves to Tahitian hospi~!ity and

overcame their fear of sexual intercourse in public.

Bougainville noted that Tahitian men, “had the physiques of Hercules and the

women beautifully contoured bodies unmarred by the torture garments such as corsets

favored by European women to make their figures attractive.”S2 Tahitians were very clean.

”They,.bathed in the streams several times a day and never failed to wash up before and

after eating.
u53

The Frenchman observed that the only crime co~~ against the French

was stealing, though Tahitians did not seem to steal from each other.

Bougainville, like other European colonizers before him, was also curious how

Polynesians ended up in their islands. When he raised Hao, an island in the Tuamotu

archipelago, he wondered how the humans could have found such a remote place to live. “I

admire their courage if they live without worry on these strips of sand that a hurricane can at

any time sweep into the sea.,,54

Nineteen years after Bougainville, the shortest period between European expeditions

to Samoa at that time, John Francis GaJaup de la Perouse, another French colonizer, visited

Samoa on December 9, 1787 as part of a two-ship expedition to check on previous French

discoveries throughout the globe.55 Ironically, la Perouse’s thorough description of how

the Samoans killed M. de Langle, captain of the Astrolabe, and eleven of his crew labeled

Samoans a “savage” people, but also offered the first substantial written information on

Samoans.

The expedition’s arrival atthe island of Tutuila brought the usual excitement “As

soon as day broke, the islanders had come round the two ships in a hundred canoes, laden

with different kinds of provision, which they would exchange for nothing but beads. These

were diamonds of the highest value to them; while they despised our hatchets, cloths, and

other articles of barter.”S6 Because of anchoring problems, de la Perouse wanted to get

·113

fresh water and sail on as soon as possible. While bartering continued at the ships,

Captains de la Perouse and M. de Langle accompanied the detail to shore to fetch fresh

water, becoming the first European captains to actuaJly step on Samoan soil. M. de Langle

decidedocheckouta secondcovenottoofarfromwherethemaincrewlanded. “The

water was fine, and easily obtained,” wrote la Perouse, “and the Indians, of whom there

were about two hundred, including women and children … Each had with him fowls, hogs;

parrots, pigeons; and they were all for selling them at once, which occasioned a little

confusion. ,,57 The heavily armed crew ,with help from Samoan chiefs, were able to maintain

order at shore for the market, however, la Perouse blamed the Samoan women for some of

. the commotion in language and tone similar to fellow French colonizer BougainviIle’s

description of Tahitian women:

The women, some of whom were very pretty, offered, with
their fruits and their fowls, their favours to aJl, who had beads
to give them. In a very little while they endeavoured to pass
through the line of marines, who made too feeble a resistance
to repulse them. Their manners were gentle, sprightly, and
engaging: against such attacks, an European who has sailed
round the globe, a Frenchman in particular, has no weapons
of defense. They found no great difficulty in breaking the
line: the men then came up, and the confusion increase: but
some Indians, whom we took for chiefs, appeared armed with
sticks, and re-established order; each returned to his place;
and the market recommenced, to the great satisfaction of both
buyers and sellers. 58

In this first major contact between European and Samoans, language and cultural

barriers likely led to trouble. De la Perouse admitted in is journal that there were many

misunderstandings between Samoans and the French. “I was informed some private

quarrels had occurred, but they had been quashed by extreme prudence.”59 Hedescribed

an incident which foreshadowed the tragic events of the following day. A young Samoan

man, probably offended in some way or other, “seized a maUel” in the long-boat and gave

one of the sailors “several blows on the arms and back” before he was seized and thrown

overboard. “The rest of the islanders appeared to disapprove their countryman’s behaviour,

and the quarrel ended there. ,>60 However, la Perouse observed that the Samoans were not in

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awe of the French or “sensible of the superiority” of French arms over their personal

strength, “for their stature, being about five ten inches high, their muscular limbs, and

Herculean form, gave them such an idea of their superiority, as rendered ‘JS little fcrm.:dable

I in their eyes.’>6\ To demonstrate French power, la Perouse purchased three pigeons, which
they “let fly, and shot before the whole assembly” which “appeared to inspire” the.

I Samoan with some fear. 62
While the crew filled the casks and continued with the market, la Perouse visited a

I
I nearbi-village. He offered the first detailed description of a Samoan village with houses

“placed in a circle, about three hundred yards in diameter, the center of which formed a

I
beautiful green, while the trees, with which it was shaded, kept it delightfully cool. ,>63

Samoans invited him into their houses, considered the best in Polynesia, and brought out the

I
finest mats for him. “The most skilful architect could not have given a more elegant curve

to the extremities of the ellipsis” which forms the oval roof of the Samoan fale. 64 He

noticed the abundance of produce and domesticated animals such as fowls, hogs and dogs

I and concluded that the Samoans “were wealthy, and had so few wants, that they despised
our cloths and instruments of iron, and would accept only beads: abundantly supplied with

I articles of real utility, they desired nothing but superfl uities. ,>65
La Perouse was very impressed with the Samoans. “What imagination would not

I
I conceive this delightful place to be the abode of felicity! These islanders, we wer:=

continually saying, must be the happiest people upon earth: surrounded with their wives and

I
children, they pass their days serene and tranquil in the bosom of repose: they have no other

care, but that of bringing up birds, and, like the first man, of gathering without labour the

fruits that hang over their heads.’>66

I When La Perouse and the water detail returned to their ships around noon, Samoans
in canoes were still surrounding both ships and continuing the market. About eight

I Samoans were on the quarterdeck including one that was introduced as a chief. M. Boutin,
the officer in charge, told La Perouse, “that he could not have prevented their entering the

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ship, unless by firing upon them: that, when they compared their bodily strength with ours,

they laughed at our threats, and ridiculed our sentries: that, knowing the moderation of my I
principles, he was unwilling to employ violent means, by which alone they could be

restrained.’067 M. Bountin added, “that since the chief had come on board, the islanders I
who were there before him had been much quieter and less insolent’068

ILa Perouse gave the chief some presents and took the opportunity to “impress him

with a high opinion” of French strength. He wrote, “I ordered different trials of the use of
I
our arms to be exhibited before him; but their effect made little impression on him; and he

appeared to me, to think them fit only for killings birds.’069 I
At the end of this first day of contact with Samoans, the French had enough fresh

water and supplies to continue on their journey. La Perouse noted that “no island could be
I
compared to this for abundance of provision: the two ships had already procured upwardS

of five hundred hogs, with large quantity of fowls, pigeons, and fruits; and all this had cost

us only a few beads. ,,70
The French decided to stay around Tutuila that night because M. de Langle insisted

on going back to the cove he reconnoitered to get more fresh water the following morning.

According to La Perouse, “However strongly I insisted that we had not the least need of it,

he could not be induced to give up his point; for he had embraced the system of Cook, and

thought fresh water a hundred times preferable to what had been some time in the hold; and

as some of his crew had slight symptoms of scurvy, he thought, with justice, that we owed

them every means of alleviating them in our power.’o7J

In a final attempt at convincing M. de Langle that they did not need more water, La

Perouse shped with him how he felt about the Samoans. “I represented to M. de Langle, .

that I found these islanders too turbulent to risk sending boats ashore, when we could not

support them by our cannon from the ships; and that our forbe~rance had served only to .

increase the boldness of these Indians, who considered only personal strength, in which we

were much inferior to them; but nothing could shake his reso! uti on. ,,72

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I The following day at about noon, M. de Langle led a crew of sixty to the cove,

armed with muskets and cutlasses, and with six swivels mounted on two long-boats and two

barges. Some Samoans went out to the ships to continue the market, and more waited at

•

shore for de Langle. When de Langle’s crew got to the cove, it was low tide so the long

boats were grounded. The barges remained afloat but off from the shore at some distance..

M. de Langle had reconnoitered the cove at high tide the day before when the water was at

least six feet deeper.

_Again, French marines maintained a double line to allow the watering to progress

smoothly and had filled their casks within an hour or so. Howev!!i they were unable to
.-.

leave because of the low tide. Meanwhile, many of the canoes who had been trading at the

ships returned so that there were thousands of people in the cove. It is not clear from La

Perouse’s journals how the fight started, though M. Vaujuas who accompanied M. de

Langle to shore surmised in his report that the confusion started after they gave some chiefs

gifts of beads. ”These presents, distributed among five or six individuals, excited the

discontent of all the rest; a general glamour then arose, and we were no longer able to check

it. ,,73 Apparently, Samoans surrounded M. de Langle’s long-boats, and stones were flying

around. Things seemed to have happened quickly. A shower of stones, “thrown from a

very short distance with as much force as if they had come from a sling, struck almost every

person in the long-boat. M. de Langle had only time to discharge the two barrels of his

piece before he was knocked down. ,,74 The French crew opened fire on the Samoans. “I t

is obvious that every shot must have killed an Indian at a distance of four or five paces; but

they had no time to reload.”75 Forty-nine out of sixty-one, most of whom all injured,

escaped by swimming to the barges afloat off from the beach where they “continued firing

on the islanders, and had killed several. ,,76 They rowed the barges through the reef

entrance and exhausted what ammunition they had left on Samoans waiting for them

there. 77 Of the twelve French sailors killed, one was simply listed as “A Chinese.,,78

117

6::)

Navigators’ Islands are the most beautiful in the Southern Ocean, and consequently in the

whole world. “129 It was the people that Kotzebue found disagreeable. To him, the

Samoans were impudent savages, though admittedly, there were some good ones. But even

the good ones were like children. The land, the islands, it would seem, were the more

important part of situation. Embedded in this narrative was the suggestion that the people

were expendable. It was the richness of the islands that was of value. It would be 15 years

after Kotzebue left before the US sent its firs expedition to the Pacific and to Samoa.

The First US Expedition to the Pacific, 1838-1842.

United States interest in Samoa began officially with “an expronng expedition which

visited the islands under the leadership of Lt. John Wilkes in 1839.’1130 Wilkes’ extensive

survey of the islands revealed great potential for a US port for ships, especially the beautiful

Pagopago harbor at Tutuila. 131 Pagopago harbor was an ideal place for coaling station to

service US vessels engaged in “whale fishery and general commerce. ,,132

Whaling, trading and other commercial interests lobbied for diplomatic

representation and a show of American naval strength not only in the Atlantic but also in the

Pacific to improve the conditions for business and to attain some measure of parity with the

English and the French as early as 1790s. 133 “Inevitably, when Americans first entered the

Pacific Ocean, demands arose for naval protection. Ship owners and their captains backed

suggestions for official exploring expeditions to lower the hazards of navigating unknown

or inadequately charted waters. ,,134 Johnson and Best, however, argued against identifying

the American “business community” as “the moving force in Pacific and Asian policy” as

they either “waited at home for someone to come for their goods or capital or waged their

own diplomacy in dealing with counterparts abroad,” and they acknowledged that “U.S.

relations with the people of the Samoan islands presented a remarkable exception to the

general rule of official lack of concern with Pacific islands, especially those south of the

equator, that followed during the 1870s and 1880s.”135

•

129

, ~ . ,
.. ~, … ~..

—“”:~-

69 I
In 1823, President Monroe’s annual message to congress outlined what has become .~

” . I
known as the “Monroe Doctrine” and confirmed that “usual force has been maintained in

the Mediterranean Sea, the Pacific Ocean, and along the Atlantic coast, and has afforded the I
necessary protection to our commerce in those areas. ,,136 The unofficial ext~nsion of the

“Monroe Doctrine” westward and continued demand for the US to assert itself in the I
Pacific led Congress in May 1836, to authorize the Wilkes Expedition to explore and survey

the Pacific Ocean “in the interests of our commerce embarked in the whale-fisheries, and I
other adventures in the great Southern Ocean … as well as to detennine the existence of all

doubtful islands and shoals.”137 I
The Wilkes Expedition left Norfolk, Virginia in August 1838 and spent three years

Iin the Pacific. They crossed “the Pacific three times” ~nd “created 180 charts, surveyed
280 islands, discovered the Antarctic continent, negotiated treaties with nine Pacific I
chiefdoms, and appointed two consuls to represent American interests in the Pacific.,,’38

The scientific, geographic, navigational and commercial achievements of the Wilkes I
Expedition were comparable to those of the British expeditions, establishing the US as a

scientific authority on the Pacific. I
The expedition was expected to arrive at Samoa in June, 1839, and was instructed to

“survey this group, and its harbours, with all due care and attention.”139 Samoa was one of

the expeditions key areas of focus, and the thoroughness with which the Wilkes Expedition

surveyed and charted the Samoan islands has been reflected in the continued reliance of the

US and American Samoan governments on Wilke’s data. Commander John M. Poyer,

Governor of American Samoa, noted in his 1919 annual report the exceptional value of

Wilkes’ surveys of 1839:

The Surveys then made … are the basis of our cnarts today,

and no general survey of the islands of American Samoa has

since been made. The data obtained by the surveyors and

scientists were published, and were for many years the only

authentic information to be found anywhere relative to these

islands … Naval officers had long recognized … Pa90 Pago
… would be of inestimable value to the United States. 40

I
I
I
I
I
I
I ,

The Wilkes Expedition, like European expeditions of earlier times, had explicit

scientific goals, but it also had a military and political agenda. Roberta A. Sprague

eloquently captures the ex.pe.dition’s contributions to US policies and its muitipurpose aims:

The scientific accomplishments of the expedition, valuable as
they were, obscured the expedition’s more .political purpose.
Just as the specimens gathered became the foundation of
many Smithsonian collections, so its strategic assessments
and detailed information became the fou ndation of
subsequent American stratagems in the Pacific. It was one of
the early moves in the geopolitical ad mercantile expansion
which dominated American policy in the nineteenth century.
Control of the continent’s west coast and the Pacific ocean
were vital to these aspirations, and information was
indispensable to achieve these objectives. The eX,Eeditions
was both a manifestation of these ambitions, and, through the
extensive data if provided, a means to realize them. Though
this purpose was never officially recognized, it was
understood by the men of the expedition, and probably by
the public of the era. 141

Wilkes’ comprehensive survey of Samoa demonstrated his belief that the islands

would be of great value to the US. In a letter to the Secretary of the Navy, date November 9.

1839, Wilkes wrote:

It is surprising that a group of islands so central, fertile and
producing so many advantages as this group should have
been overlooked by previous navigators, and I deemed it
therefore more necessary to make as minute a survey as
possible … Among the harbors of Tutuila that of Pago Pago
is the safest 142

The Wilkes Expedition and US military expansion into the Pacific demonstrated US

official willingness to protect its citizens and interests in the region, establishing a general

justification for, at times, very brutal “punitive expeditions” against Pacific Islanders,

paving the way for “manifest destiny”’43 and the eventual annexation of what is now

American S-amoa.

131

‘1

Pacific Arts Association

The Re-creation of Chamorro Dance as Observed Through the Festival of

Pacific Arts

Author(s): Judy Flores

Source: Pacific Arts, No. 25 (December 2002), pp. 47-63

Published by: Pacific Arts Association

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The Re-creation of Chamorro Dance as
Observed Through the Festival of Pacific Arts

Judy Flores
Research Associate at RFT- Micronesian Area Research Center,

University of Guam

Rapid staccato drumbeats announced the

arrival of eight warriors, each wearing a loincloth,
shell ornaments around his neck, with a long
wooden staff in his hand. In a series of intricate

movements, they struck their sticks together in
rhythm with the drumbeats, leaping and turning,

adding their shouts and chanting to the graceful
movements. This began the Bailan Uritao, or
dance of the young warriors, performed by the
Guam delegates at the Festival of Pacific Arts in
Noumea in October, 2000. The dancers projected
pride in their Chamorro heritage and confidence
in their performance presentation. They looked
like their Pacific brothers from the other 27 island

cultures represented at the Festival. Yet, this was

not always the case for delegations from Guam.
The Festival of Pacific Arts provides a point of

reference for looking at Guam’s artistic activity
over a 28-year span of time. Guam presentations
have changed significantly during this period, as
shown through statements by observers at the
Festival. The Festival of Pacific Arts became for

the Chamorro people a gauge of their develop
ment towards a Pacific identity, and also served as

a source of cultural influences and inspirations.
In this discourse, I specifically use the develop

ment of indigenous Chamorro dance to trace a
parallel re-construction of Chamorro identity
based on Pacific motifs and values. Global indige
nous movements towards decolonization played a
significant role during this same period and this
relationship will also be discussed. I propose that
the Festival has helped determine the particular
direction that Chamorros have taken to reclaim

their indigenous heritage.
An insider perspective is added to this dis

course, in the voice of Francisco Rabon, the
Master of Chamorro dance1. He received this des

ignation in 1997 in the form of the Maga’lahi

award bestowed by the governor of Guam through
the auspices of the Guam Council on the Arts &
Humanities Agency. He is recognized for having
initiated and spearheaded the development of
indigenous Chamorro dance since 1984. Through
journals, which he has kept since 1987, he tells of
his experiences and inspirations, which have cul
minated in a recognized and emulated body of
Chamorro dance themes, rhythms and move
ments. With his permission, I incorporate his
observations about the various Festivals of Pacific

Arts in which he has participated to balance the
insider/outsider viewpoints discussed here.

An understanding of the history of the
Chamorro people of the Mariana Islands is neces
sary to fully appreciate their loss of indigenous
memory and subsequent attempts to reclaim that
heritage. Guam is the southernmost and largest of
the Mariana Islands, a string of 15 small islands
situated in the northwestern racihc area or

Micronesia. The native Chamorros felt the effects

of Western influence beginning with a visit by
Ferdinand Magellan in 1521 and followed by 350
years of Spanish trade ships, missionization and
colonization. In 1899 Spain surrendered Guam to
the United States. Guam was occupied by Japan
during World War II, then reclaimed by the
United States. The island is an unincorporated
territory of the United States, whose people have
been in the process of political self-determination
since the 1970s. The people of Guam are U.S. cit
izens with a significant degree of local governance
based on the U.S. political system. Tourists from
Japan, a 3-hour flight from Guam, come to enjoy
the tropical beaches, an American life-style, and
international shopping.

The long Spanish colonial period left signifi
cant influences in the form of Spanish-Catholic
religious and social practices, to the extent that the

Pacific Arts 47

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native Chamorros both forgot their indigenous his
tory and associated themselves with their Spanish
bloodlines. American influences further shaped the
Chamorro identity to include a closer familiarity
with California lifestyles than with their neighbor
ing islands. The Chamorro people survive to the
present, in a melded, neo-Chamorro society whose
remembrance of their indigenous roots had all but
disappeared during the long Spanish colonial peri
od.

Guam s representation at the Second Festival
in New Zealand (1976) was organized by Gregoria
Baty, a dance instructor at the University of
Guam. Again, I have no official records to trace
how or if Guam was officially invited. Funds were
apparently obtained from the Governor’s Office,
probably from National Endowment for the Arts
funding allocated to the Insular Arts Council. A
group of contemporary dance students under the

direction of Professor Baty, along with a palapala –
or traditional party band – made up of members of
the Iriarte family, attended this Festival. Leonard

Iriarte described his participation as a teen-age
member of the band:

Minority human rights movements and
indigenous decolonization activities spread to the
Pacific in the 1970s, and Chamorros, like other

Pacific Islanders, began to question their relation
ship with their colonizer. Ironically, funding from

their U.S. colonizer enabled the people to estab
lish Chamorro history and culture programs in
their schools. Two generations of students have
now learned about their culture and history and
are beginning to write their own versions from an

indigenous perspective2. From these beginnings of
exploring a Pacific identity, Chamorro artists have

been creating symbols from their indigenous his
tory to reclaim their heritage. It was during this
period that the re-creation of Chamorro dance

began. The South Pacific Festival of Arts also
sprang from similar, global influences in the
1970s. Guam’s participation in the Festival paral
leled the development of Chamorro dance.

1 he fact that Guam did not officially prepare
and send a delegation representing its indigenous
culture until the 1985 Festival in Tahiti indicates

that there was not a strong indigenous movement
until the early 1980s. Prior to the 1985 Festival,

any participants from Guam were organized by
individuals or small groups who happened to find
out about the Festival and who had the initiative

and political contacts necessary to fund travel
expenses. Although I found no official records
regarding attendance at the First Festival in Fiji
(1972), pandanus weaver Tan Elena Benavente
and members of her family stated that she attend
ed this event under the auspices of the Governor’s
office. The predecessor to the Guam Council on
the Arts & Humanities Agency, called the Insular
A.rts Council, was a part of the Governor’s Office
until 1982. The Governor’s Office would have

received notices about the South Pacific Festival of

Arts through their membership in the South
Pacific Commission3.

Our group represented the mix of cultures
on Guam. It was beautiful. Growing up on
Guam you never think about [the mix of
cultures], unless someone makes you aware
or it. When we got to JNew Zealand, the
Niuean delegation was all Niuean, the
Tongan delegation was all Tongan, the
Samoan delegation was all Samoan. That
caught my eye; and also, they all had tradi
tional costumes and traditional chants and

dance! We didn’t. We had nothing.
Nothing. Nothing to show that we came
from the ancient Chamorro. Absolutely
nothing! We even did modern dance, with
black tights and lighting. It was crazy – at a
cultural festival – crazy. I would look at the
faces of the audience when the Guam dele

gation performed, and they were always
puzzled. And the only time those looks
changed was when my father and my two
sisters and 1 got up on the stage and sang.
And I know our songs weren’t really great.
It wasn’t the music — they were Chamorro
songs and they couldn’t understand what
we were saying — but the looks changed on
their faces as soon as we started singing.
Then it dawned on me that the only com
mon thread that we shared with them was

the fact that we sang in harmony — some
thing that they all did (Iriarte transcript,
1996:7).

Guam’s participation in the Third Festival in
Papua New Guinea (1980) was spearheaded by
then director of the Insular Arts Council Gallery,
Bill Guillily, and school art teacher Gillian

Pacific Arts
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Hansen. They took an exhibition of contemporary
art by some Chamorro (but largely resident non
Chamorro) artists, along with a contemporary
Chamorro band comprised of Chamorro and non
CJiamorro musicians. One or the singers in that
band was Chamorro country western-style4 singer

J.D. Crutch, a popular singer of that time. Senator
Carmen Kasperbauer also attended as head of the
legislative Committee on Culture, along with other
officials (Personal communication, 1981). Guam

participants in that festival returned full of praise
for the energy of the event. Attending officials pri
vately criticized the way Cjuam was represented,
some expressing embarrassment about the way
Guam members behaved. By the time planning for
the Fourth Festival was underway, Guam’s partici

pation was strictly under the authority of a ‘Festpac’

Task Force appointed by the Governor of Guam
and headed by the director of the Guam Council
on the Arts & Humanities Agency.

I was a member of the Festpac task force
appointed to begin planning for the Fourth
Festival in Tahiti (1985)5. In 1983 when the task

force first met to plan Guam’s presentation, our
initial discussion centered on the question of
“What is our culture?” It was generally agreed that

we needed to present something more than our
Spanish colonial-era artistic traditions. Former
Guam Legislative Speaker Carlos Taitano, who
had researched his native heritage, was invited to
help with the presentation of Guam’s cultural his

tory as told through songs and dances. He was
asked to work with Francisco Rabon, (Fig. 1) who

had started a small Polynesian dance group com
prised of local youths. For Francisco Rabon, his
involvement in the planning of this festival
became a turning point in his life:

[Carlos] had just gotten back from travel
ing all over the Pacific and he had research
material that he wanted to share. Although
he wasn’t knowledgeable in dance move
ments, he had material. “Some of them

were like the bailan uritao (young bache
lor’s dance), bailan lina’la’ (dance of life).”
What started to dawn on me was the con

cept that, yes, we existed prior to Spanish
colonization! After going through some of
the materials that he had, and listening to
some of the drumbeats that he had, these

Figure 1. Traditional Dance Master Francisco Rabon uses
the Ipu gourd to keep rhythm for his dances. Note the
designs which decorate the gourd indicate a pan-Pacific
identity to distinguish from the Hawaiian ipu heke.
Photograph by Ron J. Castro.

Q-.

bo
o

o
-C
Ch

were just ideas that we could extract to do

something of this sort. The chanting to go
with the weaving, the building of the latte
stone, galaide (canoe), the fa’i (rice). All of
this was brand new to me — it was like a

bundle of information, so, wow, let’s do

something! (Rabon transcript, 1996: 2)

Francisco Rabon was born and raised in Guam

in what he felt was a traditional Chamorro family.

He grew up speaking Chamorro as easily as he
spoke English, and participated in family and
community rituals. He loved to dance, and had
learned the dances prevalent in his childhood – the

batsu (Spanish waltz) as well as the cha cha of the
1960s and the “hip hop” dances of the 1980s.
When he went to college in the State of
Washington, he gravitated towards the Polynesian
community, recognizing in their culture similari
ties to his own. He began to learn their dances. “I

fell in love with the beauty of it…that form of
dancing had a new thrill and had an identity,”
(Rabon transcript, 1996: 2). He became a profes
sional Polynesian dancer, both in Guam and in
Hawai’i. When he returned to Guam in 1983, he

Pacific Arts 49

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Figure 2. Members of the Taotao Tano Dance Group perform a dance from their reconstructed “Ancient Period” reper
toire, at Gef Pa’go Chamorro Cultural Fair, February 2000.

-C
CL.

tù
o

o
-C
eu

found himself being drawn into the teaching of
Polynesian dance. He began to choreograph hula
movements to Chamorro music in order to create

something with a local identity. These modest
beginnings blossomed with his 1984 introduction
to pre-contact Chamorro history by Carlos Taitano.

Frank formed his own Chamorro dance group
in 1984, called Taotao Tano’, meaning People of
the Land (Fig. 2, 3). He did not attend the Fourth
Festival in Tahiti (1985) for personal reasons, but
he continued to elaborate on indigenous dance
interpretations. As he learned more about his pre

contact heritage, he expanded on his repertoire.
Whenever he came across materials that specified

certain ways of pre-contact life, he would create a
dance for it and incorporate chants that he also
created. His group was often called upon to repre
sent Guam in cultural and tourism promotions
throughout the Pacific, in Asia, and the United
States. He writes:

As I continued to develop and interpret the

information given to me by Mr. Taitano in

1984, Taotao Tano’ began to establish a
foundation of our ancient heritage. We
started doing performances throughout the
island, and in Rota, Tinian and Saipan,
presenting our newly developed Chamorro
dance program. We encountered criticism
from the audiences because of ignorance
and lack of acceptance regarding our peo
ples past. No matter how much we
explained during performances, we still
heard criticism regarding our presentation
about our ancient culture. They preferred
to accept only the Spanish-period presenta
tions; it was something more recognizable
and comfortable for them to accept. That
didn’t prevent us from continuing our pre
sentations. I figured if they were able to
accept the latte, the petroglyphs and other

ancient artifacts, eventually they would
accept what we do. Although it was just re
created dance, it was something to start
with and to develop. Eventually, we began

50 Pacific Arts

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to be recognized and accepted, especially
during the inauguration of Governor Ada
in 1987.

Our performance at the inauguration of
Governor Ada in 1987 was observed by the

Paradise Production Company, who
offered us a contract at Pacific Star Hotel’s

grand opening in April. This was the first
time any hotel in Guam ever decided to
allow a Chamorro program to be part of a
hotel dinner show. All other hotels were

running Polynesian shows since they start
ed operations in the 1970s. In fact, I had
participated during the early years as a
Polynesian dancer.

By this time our goal as a performing group

was to try and change the image presented
to our tourists by the hotel industry. I knew

it was going to be a difficult task but I was
willing to take on the challenge. Our pro
gram was so well received by the tourists as
well as our local audiences that we stayed
with Pacific Star Hotel on contract until

1992. During this time we performed on
promotional tours in Japan, Taiwan, Korea,

Bali, Australia, Philippines and other desti
nations for the Guam Visitors Bureau. We

also went on several inaugural flights with
Continental Micronesia throughout the
region as they expanded their flight desti
nations. The most prestigious event we
were asked to participate in was the 5th
Festival of Pacific Arts to be held in

Townsville, Australia in August 1988 (per
sonal journal, 2001:1).

The Guam delegation was beginning to repre
sent its indigenous Chamorro culture, but their
presentations were still very different from those
of other Pacific nations. Guam presentations for
the 1985 and 1988 Festivals used a musical pag
eant to explain our loss of indigenous history. This
included dances from the colonial Spanish era as
well as cha cha and jitterbug, prominent American

influences. Frank’s participation in the Fifth
Festival in 1988 incorporated his “ancient” dance
segments as part of the pageant. Fie still felt that
something was missing:

We went to Townsville with a program
presentation called “Kantan Kurason” –
“Song of the Heart”. The program consist
ed of a chronology of songs that signified

certain eras of Chamorro history. This
musical pageant was to be our presentation
in Australia to represent our people. In my
heart I knew through my dancing experi
ence that something needed to accompany

this program during the Festival. I had
never attended a Festival before, but my
entertainment instinct told me to prepare.
When we arrived in Townsville I observed

the organization as well as the presenta
dons by other islands. I nodced how uni
form they were during practices and also
during opening ceremonies. I was in awe of
all the 27 island nations that participated.

We became especially close to the New
Zealand delegation, Te Waka Huia, under
the direction of Mr. “Bub” Wehi, a very
knowledgeable, esteemed and wise individ
ual who led the Maori delegation. As I sat
and talked with him on several occasions, I

realized that we were basically encounter
ing the same struggles. The only difference
is that we had more damage done to us by
more countries in more years than they had

to contend with. Their culture is fairly well

preserved and documented as opposed to
our culture. They had only to contend with
the British colonizers.

Known as ‘ Uncle Bub, he was very inter
ested in our people’s culture since he had
heard very little of Guam and the
Chamorros. He mentioned the previous
festival in Tahiti and was slightly confused
with that presentation and the one in
Townsville. I informed him that we are still

re-developing our culture, especially the
pre-contact interpretations and that hope
fully we can eventually fit in with the other
Pacific nations and not look so

Americanized. I was also glad that I was
fairly knowledgeable about our people’s
past and was able to give him a brief histo
ry of the Chamorros. He expressed to me
that he was delighted to see more indige

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nous presentation from Guam this time
around versus that of 1985. He was partic
ularly impressed with the “Bailan Uritao”
and the “Bailan Lina’la’.” He encouraged
me to start developing chants and move
ments and to not be afraid to contemporize
our presentations. He mentioned that one
of his biggest challenges in New Zealand
was to create interest among the younger
generation for continuity of their culture. I

mentioned that this was also a challenge we
faced in Guam.

political status. I vowed to continue to
develop and re-create anything related to
our pre-contact era, and to re-establish the

singing that we must have had in our past,
and to try to create a basis for our future

generations to claim ownership of their
heritage (personal journal, 2001:1-2).

The most memorable event at the

Townsville festival was the sad occasion of

the death of one of the New Zealand dele

gates. We were asked by “Uncle” Bub to
participate in the solemn ceremonies asso
ciated with their death rituals. I will not go

into detail regarding the ceremonies associ
ated with that death – it will forever be

etched in my memory. My observation
throughout the ceremonies was the similar
ity of their rituals to ours here in Guam.
We were asked to enter and pay our
respects, assist in the preparation of food,
and welcome the other Pacific nations as

they paid their respects. I was not only
honored, but humbled by this gesture from
the Maori. It was like we were part of their

family in many ways. Our association con
tinued throughout the festival. It was such
an awesome experience, and since then
Guam and this Maori group have estab
lished a bond between us that exists even

today.

They contributed to our development by
teaching us how to sing in the style of their
beautiful voices, which came from the
heart. We also heard the harmonious voic

es of other Pacific Island groups we
observed there.

As I left the festival to return home, I real

ized how much more our people had lost
throughout the years of foreign domina
tion. I also realized just how much more
work needed to be done for us to be one

with the other islands, regardless of our

Ironically, Guam s presentations at this and
previous festivals represented the multiple cultural

heritage of the island more comprehensively than
later presentations. In the eyes of Guam delega
tion organizers, the Festival of Pacific Arts seemed
to serve as a measurement of their Pacific identity.

Their colonial heritage has, in fact, made
Chamorros different from other Pacific nations,

but in this context they wanted to be perceived as
Pacific Islanders. In their development of a Pacific
Islander image, they felt compelled to select and
emphasize aspects of their indigenous Chamorro
heritage and to minimize their colonial identity.

Subsequent Festival presentations by Guam
showed an inconsistency in the type of art forms
portrayed, as those who determined the selection
of artists debated the choice of artistic traditions

which represented their perception of Chamorro
culture. Artists were selected by a combination of

community judges, officials from the FestpacTask
Force and the Guam Council on the Arts &

Humanities Agency whose makeup changed with
each Festival. Guam’s presentations became more
polished and sophisticated in terms of Western
stage presence and organization, but what did
these cultural portrayals convey to those looking
at Guam through the Festival venue? I had an
opportunity to have that question answered by a
group of regular Festival attendees at the Sixth
Festival of Pacific Arts in Samoa, 1996.

The following comments were made by mem
bers of The International Council for Traditional

Music – Study Group on the Musics of Oceania
during their informal meeting at the 1996 Pacific
Festival of Arts in Samoa. This group of about
twelve people was comprised of folklore profes
sionals from all over the Pacific, many of whom
bad attended one or more of the previous
Festivals6.

The discussion began with comments on the
impression made by past and present performanc

es of the Guam delegation. Three participants had

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seen presentations by Guam at past Festivals. A
viewer of the 1976 presentation in New Zealand
got the impression that the performance was “put
up” and “not real.” One of the songs the Guam
group sang, in English, was “How Much Is That
Doggie In the Window?” (They had seen the per
formance of the palapala band of which Leonard
Iriarte was a member.) Guam was so known by that

presentation that a friend only had to say,
“Remember Guam in ’76?” to bring back that
memory. Another viewer’s impression from listen
ing to others was to avoid the Guam group because
it was “made up” and “not real.” However, this per
son’s impression of their performance at the Sixth
Festival (1996) was that it was quite spectacular.
Another observed Guam as the first group to per
form at the Third Festival in New Guinea, 1980:

They were not terribly interesting. A com
ment after the performance was, “It can
only be uphill from here!” However, I saw
their performance here and have seen them

go uphill themselves – to go from practical
ly nothing to what they have now…this
time I think they have something interest
ing. It was interesting in what they bor
rowed from whom. But what I think they

should do, from the very beginning, is to
say that ‘this is a reconstruction,” so people

will not have the idea that they are trying
to be authentic – or perhaps they are trying
to be authentic. But I think they should
convey to the audience somehow that they
have lost so many things for whatever rea
son (and they may explain the reasons if
they wish) —they should say up front that
this is a reconstruction and we have bor

rowed from wherever. I thought the idea of

taking their history from today and looking
at the past was very interesting. I would
like to know from the people from whom

they borrowed, are they happy about the
borrowing? (Adrienne Kaeppler, ITCM
discussion participant, 1996)

A hula master, clarifying that the following
response was not from the point of view of a
Western scholar but from that of a trained hula

master from Hawai’i, gave an opinion on how
such borrowings may be perceived by the culture
from which they are being borrowed:

First of all, I feel sorry for any culture that

has lost its heritage. However, they should
be very careful of what they borrow from
other cultures. For example, in my culture,

the ipu heke or double gourd drum is a
respected hula instrument found only in
Hawaiian culture. When they were using
this instrument in their dances, I was very

offended by how they were using it. If need
be, they can use the gourd from which the

ipu heke is made and construct their own
instrument. But if they use the gourd con
structed as an ipu heke, they should play it
in its proper context. (ITCM discussion
participant, 1996.)

A similar opinion was added:

There is a question of appropriation here.
The sense of having something taken away
is particularly strong when it involves cul
tures who have preserved their traditions.
Consequently, when someone comes and
appropriates important aspects of that cul
ture, it creates bad feelings. The problem is
not confined to Guam or any one area; it
happens all around the Pacific. It would be
very interesting to have performers from
Guam meet with those of Hawai’i, and

perhaps other cultures, to discuss this issue.
(Jane Freeman Moulin, ICTM discussion
participant, 1996)

Barbara B. Smith, Professor Emeritus of

Ethnomusicology, University of Hawai’i, respond
ed with comments on the 1996 performance pres
entation:

I saw the Guam performing arts group four

times: the opening night; once without the
“ancestor” segment at the Cultural Center;
and twice with that segment. Here are
some of my impressions of the content of
the ancestor’ segment. I seemed to recog
nize some of the stick beating (that near the

beginning) as derived from Hawaiian hula,
but was happy to also find some that, in
the manipulation of the sticks, seemed
clearly to be based on Micronesian stick
dances (Carolinian, rather than anything I

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have thought of as Chamorro). Though the
pattern, which was repeated many times,
was very short rather than the unit of repe
tition being a series of short-but-different
patterns, which I think is more characteris
tic of stick-dances of Yap, NMI, and
Carolinian atolls – certainly of that per
formed by the group of navigators from
Polowat at the Culture Center. Of course I

was aware, not only of the ipu heke but

also of the beating of the Western drum to
assist in creating a climax in the stick-danc
ing (many people would refer to this as
accompanying’, but think ‘leading’ or
‘directing’ is often — as here — a more
appropriate term). To the best of my
knowledge, authentic Carolinian stick
dances are not so accompanied, but I con
sider this part of the ‘staging’ of the por
trayal rather than what is portrayed and
therefore not offensive. The use of the gui

tar ensemble in scenes portraying activities
prior to its introduction to Guam is simi
lar. (Smith, personal communication, letter
1996: 2)

New Guineans who came to the Study
Group gathering came back to the hotel to
interview me about aspects or previous
Festivals, before getting to the matter at
hand, he made a point of telling me that he
liked the Guam performance very much
and that he admired the Guamanian (sic)
people. I think his evaluation is more sig
nificant than any of the more technical
aspects that I have tried to convey. (Smith,

personal communication, letter, 1996:3)

Smith added that during the second week of
the Festival, she had a long talk with a member of
the Study Group who had not attended the meet
ing. This member has lived in Hawai’i for many
years, and considers Hawaiian hula an area of her
expertise. “When, in response to her question
about what we had discussed, I mentioned the

Guam presentation, she immediately commented
that she had seen it and that, when the group
entered, she wondered if there had been a change
of program because everything looked so
Hawaiian, specifically mentioning the men’s malo.
She objected to the use of the ipu heke and the
unique-to-Hawai’i beating of it…and asked how
Guam could justify incorporating so much that is
Hawaiian.” (Smith, personal communication, let
ter 1996:2)

In conclusion she stated:

Overall, I think Guam made the best

impression it ever has on other islanders
and tourists. The performers’ and artists’
sense of quiet self-confidence and self
esteem was recognized. You may be inter
ested to know that when one of the Papua

The above references to cultural ‘borrowing’
bring up issues of both cultural selection and the
ownership of culture. The first implies a selection

process whereby an ethnic group consciously
chooses which identity markers they will use from

among an available selection of historical or con
temporary sources. The second refers to the set

ting up of boundaries that define the cultural
property of an ethnic group. Both of these involve
evaluation and negotiation in a dynamic process
of cultural construction. Glenn Petersen writes

about the “selection of a relevant version of tradi

tion from off a shelf in the storage cupboard of
history” (1992: 201), which describes how Guam
officials and artists attempted to construct an
identity they wished to project at the Festival of
Pacific Arts. While dances and arts from the colo

nial heritage are still performed to point out a dis
tinctly different Chamorro ethnicity, an ancient’
indigenous Chamorro heritage has been fore
grounded in an effort to project a Pacific image in
keeping with other Pacific Island presentations.
Chamorros are also selecting sounds, rhythms and
movements from other Pacific societies with

which to reconstruct an ancient past. This selec
tion is evaluative in the way aspects of some cul
tures, such as the Hawaiian ipu heke, are chosen
over other rhythmic instruments, (fig.l) based on
contemporary perceptions of desirable ethnic
associations (or actual contemporary associations
that were not encountered historically). This is
also a negotiated process within the ethnic group,
as variants are ‘tried out’ and accepted or rejected
as being appropriate identity markers. This nego
tiatory aspect of available variants created the
ambiguous identity projected by successive Guam
presentations at the Festival of Pacific Arts.

1 he second issue rerers to ownership or cul

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ture.’ This takes the perspective of the culture from
which a tradition is borrowed. In this case,

Hawaiians view the ipu heke as their own unique
‘property.’ Thus, Chamorros who want to share in
the use of this property are resented, “as if the out

sider were attempting a form of cultural’ theft”

(Fitzgerald 1998: 263-4). The reasons Chamorros
are selecting aspects of Hawaiian culture over that
of their Micronesian neighbors can be explained
through an examination or Chamorro perspectives
revealed in the historical record. Historical accounts

show that Chamorros were very status conscious.

The chamorri (ancient high status Chamorros)
kept their distance from the manachang (ancient
low status Chamorros). Being a high island, traders
from the small atolls of Micronesia generally came
to Guam, which was a resource-rich center. The

center and periphery concept (Wassmann 1998:
intro: 3) carried the mark of high status in the cen

ter over lower status of the periphery, transmitting

the Chamorro perception of themselves as being of

higher status than outer islanders. This perspective
continued into the colonial period, when the man

ak’hilo’ (high) class of mixed Spanish and
Chamorro families of Hagatna were considered of

higher status than the manak’papa (low class)
Chamorros of the rural areas. The low status of
Carolinians on Guam, even in the nineteenth and

twentieth centuries, is again revealed in the histori

cal record. They were not civilized’ because they
did not wear clothes or adapt to Western ways
(Moore et al, 1998: 73 [quoting Safford, 1902]:
Rogers, 1995: 122, 124). Hawaiians, conversely,
did not appear on the historical scene until
Chamorros began to migrate to Hawai’i during the

whaling period of the nineteenth century. This
made Hawai’i a center and Guam a periphery,
wherein Chamorros perceived Hawai’i as a high
status place, particularly in relation to the islands of
Micronesia. Hawaiians who came to Guam aher

the Second World War came as highly paid civil
service workers, and therefore they would have
been perceived as high-status people. This local per
ception, coupled with the perspectives brought by
tourists and the tourism industry, has reinforced the

alignment of their Chamorro identity with aspects
of Hawaiian culture over Micronesian. Their selec

tion, in this case, was made from a cultural and

political perspective. The tourism industry added
an economic selective factor when they continued

to hire only Polynesian dance groups when
Chamorro dance groups were available.

The group moved on to discuss the point that
traditions need to be kept and perpetuated, and
that it is important to keep that direct link with

one’s heritage:

But then it becomes a classic — something
that is from your past but is no longer a liv

ing manifestation. I think you have to keep
in mind the distinction between an art

form that has now died out but is very
important for your history and your roots
and so on -and where the art form is still

being practiced and used and is a very
important part of people’s lives, then there’s

no argument that it should continue. If it’s
actually died out, what do you do about it?
(David Goldsworthy, ICTM discussion
participant, 1996)

Indeed, what do you do when your artistic tra
ditions have died out? I believe that contemporary
Chamorro artists have done the only thing they
can do in order to establish a link to their pre-con
tact artistic traditions. They have reconstructed
what they believe was practiced at one time, or
have reinvented icons based on visual remnants of

that time (Fig.2). They have not “invented” out of
thin air. They have re-created from vestiges left to

them in writings and artifacts, from borrowings
and comparative studies of other Pacific cultures;
and they have based their selections on historical
and political perspectives drawn from their own
culture which has made what they are doing feel

right. Frank Rabon emphasized this fact, address
ing the issue of authenticity:

I am not trying to bring back thousands of
years of lost traditions; I am only creating
an awareness to show that we existed thou

sands of years before colonization occurred.
There are people who choose not to
acknowledge this fact, I choose to embrace
it and teach younger generations to be
proud of our ancestors, where we came
from, and who we are now. I do not feel

that we are authenticating lost traditions,
but instead are re-creating traditions

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through research concepts (Rabon,
2001:18).

presentation at the Fourth Festival in Tahiti in
1985. He commented:

I was interested in knowing what other out
siders perceived as influences from other cultures.
Ngapo Wehi (better known to Frank as “Uncle
Bub”), by then chairman of the Te Waka Toi
Maori Arts Board in New Zealand, responded to
my question in a written statement. He had first

met the Guam delegation at the Fifth Festival of
Pacific Arts in Townsville, Australia (1988):

Guam’s presentation has reached a level of
sophistication enjoyed by Hawaii, Tahiti,
Cook Islands, and Samoa (both). Rabon is
responsible for this outstanding perform
ance, assisted by Maria Yatar. The perform
ers look and sound like our Pacific broth

ers. The Uku (group singing) is very much
like the Ute in Rarotonga and Tahiti, (per
sonal communication, 1996)

From the very start we (our group, Te Waka

Huia) and the Guam delegation became
very friendly. Up until that time, the only
knowledge that we had of Guam was that
it was a large U.S. air force base. We also
discovered that Guam had an indigenous
race of people who were “Chamorro” and
that they were very keen to mix with
nations of the Pacific – with an outside

chance, perhaps, of deepening their quest
to find their roots in their own culture.

Their culture was a mixture of Spanish,
Philippine, and American. In 1990 Te
Waka Huia visited Guam and a great time
was had by all, and [in Western Samoa]
once again the bond was strengthened.
This 7th Festival has again been great for
there are some in the Guam group who
were in the 1988 festival. I saw them on

opening night and I thought they were dif
terent, in that they exuded much more
confidence and they were making a state
ment that they were beginning to be more
comfortable about themselves, even

though the other cultures of their country
are still being portrayed and being done
well! Without a doubt, the research [by
those involved] is becoming evident. With
the passion that some have about their lan
guage and culture, I can only wish them a
fruitful sojourn into the past. (Ngapo
Wehi, personal communication, letter,
1996)

Opinions expressed from outside the culture
need to be balanced with those from within the

Chamorro culture. To that end, I talked to Carlos
Taitano, who has attended all the Festivals and
worked with Frank Rabon to create the Chamorro

The government of Guam, through its spon
sorship of cultural and promotional tours by the
Guam Visitor’s Bureau and the Guam Council on

the Arts and Humanities Agency, has officially
recognized the re-created art forms described here
as representative of the Chamorro culture. The
selection of these particular artists to represent
Chamorro artistic traditions at the Festival of

Pacific Arts signifies official recognition from
within the culture.

What about the tradition bearers of art forms

passed down through the generations? Is their art
still a valid representation of Chamorro culture?
What do they think of these reinvented art forms?

Kantan Chamorrita singer Tan Maria Crisostomo
reflected the expressions of a number of elders in
the community when she said, “None of us ever
wore sadi’ (loincloth) and jumped around hitting
sticks’ (Crisostomo, personal communication,
1994). It is important to point out that through
their actions and their expressions, the artists of

these re-created forms have the utmost respect for
traditional practitioners, and often seek their
advice in order to gain as much knowledge as they
can about their heritage. I believe art forms that
have been traditionally passed from generation to
generation hold an important place in the heritage
of the Chamorro people. These practitioners
should be honored, and the continued practice of
their art forms should be encouraged. The artists
of reinvented traditions, however, seek more than

the knowledge contained within the living memo
ries of Chamorro traditional artists in their search

to identify with their pre-contact heritage. These
two forms of artistic expression together provide a
comprehensive view of indigenous Chamorro art
as the forms survive and adapt to changing con
temporary needs.

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Performance artists were given the opportuni

ty to express their views about their creations in a

panel discussion organized by various cultural
agencies in an Intergenerational Conference on
Chamoru7 Language and Culture held at the
Guam Hilton Hotel on February 25, 1999. The
conference was attended by elders from the senior
citizens centers, Chamorro Studies teachers,

Chamorro language professors of the University of

Guam and their students and interested people
from the general public. Total participation num

bered about three hundred people, who attended

panel and individual presentations throughout the

day. The conference was held almost entirely in

the Chamorro language, as is usual with gather

ings organized by Chamorro language agencies. I

translated and summarized the following dialogue

that took place among panel members and atten
dees of a discussion on Chamorro music. Over a

hundred people attended this session. Facilitator
for the session was Maria Ann Rivera, director of
the Chamorro Studies Division of the

Department of Education. The question, “What
is Chamorro music and dance?” prompted the fol

lowing responses:

They say it is borrowed. Yes, we borrowed

it, but we have put it in our hearts. It is our
culture as we use it in our lives today.
(Rabon)

Jimmy Dee (a local entertainer and recording
artist) began to speak in English but was urged
from the audience to speak in Chamorro.
Beginning in Chamorro [which he speaks very
well] and lapsing into English, he said:

I have been told that my music is not
Chamorro, that it is translated or borrowed

from other songs. But do you realize how
many songs that we call Chamorro songs
are actually borrowed? Do you know where
“Tipi Tipi Tin” came from? From the
Andrews Sisters! – Almost all our folklore

songs are Early American. When I write
Chamorro songs they say it is not
Chamorro. But ‘ Puti on [a popular
‘Chamorro’ song] is from Honolulu Moon.
[Lapsing into English] We need to set stan

dards to define what is Chamorro; to clas

sify from what periods our songs came.
Whatever we borrow, let’s call it all
Chamorro and lets use it.

Benjie Santiago said:

I told my Natibu Dance members that we
are going to advance our culture by taking

the old times and the new times and using
them together. This is how we advance our
culture.

Frank Rabon continued:

The seed has been planted. It has become a
tree and has born fruit. Let’s take the bor

rowed and make it our own. Let’s go for
ward.

Cira McMillan interjected:

I’m the seed that came from America.

When I was growing up [in the States] I
saw Chamorros dancing cha cha, jitterbug
and I asked my mother ‘is that Chamorro
dance?’ My mother said Chamorro dance is

batsu, bailan a’iguas [Spanish era dances] –
We here, if not for Frank Rabon — [breaks

down, tearfully] — Before I didn’t know my

culture. I didn’t speak Chamorro. If there is
no culture from us for our children, where
are we? Even if it is borrowed –

Joe Peredo took over, saying:

We here must carry the culture forward.
Those things we borrow and make our own
we must ‘distinguish’ [said in English]
because we see what we like and take it and

make it Chamorro. Let’s keep what we
want and make it Chamorro. I write origi
nal Chamorro songs. I want to pass those
on to future generations. If you hear a little
Spanish, Chamorros are singing it, so it is
Chamorro. We must pick up pieces from
our heritage.

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Joey Franquez added: Rabon observed after he had participated in
the Eighth Festival in New Caledonia (2000):

i here are many of us who look at the worst

among us. My musical roots came from my

father [who played American big band and

jazz songs]. When Johnny Sablan’s songs
came out I first heard songs sung in
Chamorro. They were songs I could identi
fy with. Let’s gather together and support
everyone’s efforts. I was educated in music
and I would like to share what I know with
others.

Bill Paulino (a retired educator) provided a sum
marizing statement:

hverything that comes rrom within is yours
and part of your culture.

1 his dialogue points out that Chamorro artists
are very aware and very sensitive about issues
regarding reconstructed song and dance. They
have obviously discussed and reflected on ideas
concerning borrowing of instruments, tunes, and
other aspects or performance. At this point they
have come to the conclusion that they are recon
textualising aspects of other cultures to the point
that they consider these forms to now be their
own. Tensions were evident among various artists

who struggle for legitimacy within the contempo
rary social context. Yet a consensus of voices called

for ‘working together and moving forward’ in the
common effort to continue the construction of a

Chamorro identity that selects fragments from the

past, from other cultures and from contemporary
perspectives.

high teen years after his hrst introduction to his

indigenous roots, Frank Rabon projected a reflec
tive confidence that allowed him to evaluate the
performances of fellow Pacific islanders:

1 his is my third festival of the Pacific Arts,

ind judging from our previous festival in
Samoa; we are starting to capture the Pacific
sounds and movements. I also notice a

iong-overdue respect with regards to our
people in terms of our presentation. We can
finally align ourselves with the other Pacific

islanders for any ceremonial challenges.
Finally, Guam can stand proud of her peo
ale once again. (Personal journal, 2001:4)

we were accompanied for the first time by
members of the Guam Visitors Bureau and

most especially by the First Lady of Guam.

I have been wanting Guam Visitors Bureau
to attend a cultural event, just to compare

culture and commercial venues. I always
believe that you can commercialize culture,

but you can’t culturalize commercial pre
sentations. GVB’s primary responsibility in
Guam is to promote our culture to tourist
related destinations. Therefore, the com

mercialized aspect of entertainment plays
an important role in their presentations.
These leaders also needed to know what a

cultural celebration is all about, and to feel

the true meaning and essence of traditions
from the heart. They needed to witness
first-hand what makes people proud of
who they are. Sometimes I feel that in the

midst of all this Americanization, our peo
ple have become culturally ignorant, ignor
ing the values of our traditions and why
they should be passed on to future genera
tions. I feel a lot of the social problems we

are encountering are because we choose not
to pass on the values and traditions, and
taking for granted that they will continue
to exist. I know these officials will return to

our island a little more knowledgeable

about cultural preservation and promotion.
There is room for both entities to co-exist,

depending on the particular celebrations
and occasions, (personal journal, 2001:4)

As part of the Festival, the Guam delegation
visited the island of Lifou where they also per
formed. Seeing presentations by the Kanak in
their own villages led Rabon to make the follow
ing observations:

[ especially noticed how the whole clan
participated in the dance, from the oldest
😮 the youngest. I know our culture had
[his participation years ago, but now the
generation gap is very noticeable. It seems

:hat my generation seems to be the bridge
Detween the young and the old, so a bal
ince needs to be established to guarantee

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continuity. I feel that the younger genera

tion are not very interested in learning
from the old regarding our traditions and
culture. The older generations are quite
stubborn about the traditions and some

times refuse to make changes. The middle
generation like myself are torn between
respecting the old ways and creating
changes to attract the young. This seems to
happen on many of the more developed
islands as opposed to the not so developed
islands. 1 certainly hope there are enough
of the middle generation who value the tra
ditions to assure continuity for years to
come. At least I know within Taotao Tano’

itself that bridge has been crossed and
assurance of continuity is there, (personal
journal, 2001:5-6)

He went on to describe his observations of the

changes in presentation over time by various
island groups:

During this festival I noticed several things
that assured me I was travelling on the
right path. First of all I noticed Rapanui
(Easter Island) had greatly improved their
presentation this time around. 1 hey were
well received by the audiences as well as the

other participating island nations. They are

starting to re-create their ancestral past and
formulate it as a commodity for marketing.

I also noticed American Samoa elaborating
on their presentation using technology as
well as utilizing younger members for pres
entation. They were using more fluid
movements in their dances and elaborate

choreography. I found their presentation
very entertaining and not quite as boring as
before. Yet they are still maintaining their
traditional movements as a basis for the

program.

Wallis & Futuna was another island I

found very entertaining. With mostly older

men and women performing they also
started using fluid movements and elabo
rate choreography. While listening to some
of their language, I picked out a few words
that sound like what we Chamorros use. I

discovered that some also have the same

meaning – words like our counting system,
Hacha, Hugua …

I also noticed the theatrical presentation of
Tahiti and how they decided to re-frame
their origins. Normally they just present a
straightforward song and dance routine full

of actions and drum beats. This time they
decided to return to basics. Even some of

the dance movements were from the old

ways.

This was also evident with New Zealand,

going as far back as using very old, tradi
tional costumes and movements. It is very
interesting what these last two powerful
islands are doing with their presentations.
Whoever is tasked with the program pres
entation for Guam in the future will really
have to think of what direction to take,

(personal journal, 2001:6)

Rabon also noted that his dance group has
evolved from being entertainers to the keepers of
their culture (Rabon, 2001:10). More and more,

they are called upon to provide opening chants for
special events, as evidence that the ancients have
blessed the particular event through these contem
porary representatives (Fig.3).

A summary of the views of the various insider
and outsider voices seems to indicate that

Chamorro identity manifested by its art forms is
still in a state of flux. The perceptions of outsiders
seem generally to point out that the Chamorros of

Guam have to overcome many negative impres
sions caused by their earlier presentations at the
Festival of Pacific Arts, particularly those before
1985. The Chamorro identity that various artists

are trying to portray is still not sufficiently defined

for viewers to obtain a conclusive description of
Chamorro culture, but with each Festival a partic
ular Pacific Chamorro identity becomes stronger.
Guam’s image at the Festival of Pacific Arts is now
a positive one, although somewhat ambiguous. A
consistent representation of these art forms will
eventually be recognized as Chamorro identity.
Within the Chamorro community itself, a more
unified acceptance of identity markers is neces
sary. Specific artistic markers of Chamorro identi

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ty have been put forth and received with interest.
Re-created art forms have received cautious official

recognition and acceptance from some sectors of
the general community. As in all living cultures,

Chamorros will continue to innovate, adapt and
respond to contemporary social conditions. By the
same token, their culture will continue because of

this ability to innovate, adapt and respond. Threads

of continuity from their ancient past will become
established in symbols currently being created and
accepted by the community.

Most dance leaders have borrowed the use of the

Hawaiian ipu heke as a rhythmic accompaniment.
They have been criticized by local officials and
some Hawaiians for doing so. Conversely, they
have been encouraged to borrow from aspects of
Micronesian dance.

I he loss of connection to their pre-contact
Chamorro heritage also resulted in a loss of con
nection with their fellow Pacific Islanders.

Leonard Iriarte, who participated in the Second
Festival of Pacific Arts in New Zealand (1976)

spoke of his amazement at seeing entire delega
tions made up of indigenous people. He also
noted how different Guam was in their presenta
tions of non-indigenous art forms. This lack of
indigenous identity in Guam’s presentations at the
1976 and 1980 Festivals was noted by several
Festival observers of the Guam delegation during

their ICTM discussion in Samoa (1996). It is sig
nificant to note Carlos Taitano’s statement regard
ing the 1996 Festival, that the Guam performers
‘now look and sound like our Pacific brothers.”

His implication that Chamorros prior to this
Festival did not express a Pacific identity points
Dut that this is perceived as an important mile
stone in the Chamorro search for identity.

Artists ot re-created traditions are breaking
new ground in their search to establish an identi

ty with their pre-contact heritage. Their artistic
tieritage has not been passed to them through gen

orations in a traditional learning process. They
: he re fore seek ways to extract a vestige of what
:hey can call their own from scant descriptions by
:arly explorers, from archaeological remnants,
rorti selective borrowings, from spiritual enlight
enment and from contemporary perspectives of
.vhat they were and should continue to be.

Influences from other cultures are readily uti
ized by the artists as a primary means of re-creat
ng their art forms. Comparative studies of other

Vlicronesian islands to try to ascertain probable
artistic designs, movements and sounds in ancient

Chamorro art forms are undertaken by some of
Guam’s artists. Direct borrowing of some designs,
movements and sounds are practiced by others.

It is important to examine the reasons borrow

ing is sometimes accepted and other times
frowned upon. The reasons, I believe, are based on

perceptions of identity. Guam is geographically
part of Micronesia, so identification of Chamorro
art forms with those of Micronesia would “fit”

better for the purposes of outsider perceptions. It
would make Chamorro “Micronesians” distinct

from Polynesians. Historically and geographically,
Chamorros of the Marianas are part of

Micronesia, with evidence of cultural exchange
noted in historical sources. Pressures from the

tourism industry favoring Polynesian dance over
Micronesian influences tend to override official

attempts to guide artistic creativity towards the
latter. From an outsiders perspective on borrow
ing, we have heard that several Hawaiians are
offended by Chamorro borrowings from their cul
ture. We haven’t heard from the Micronesians.

Artists who have attended one or more

Festivals described influences of the Festival of

Pacific Arts. The singing of the Maori groups at
the Festival influenced Taotao Tano’ members to

develop their singing voices and ornamental styles.

Leonard Iriarte spoke of his experience as a con
îcious realization that (juam lacked a Chamorro

dentity at the 1976 Festival, which influenced
lim to learn more about his ancient roots. Artists

lave incorporated designs and movements from
)ther Pacific cultures as a result of such cultural

exchanges. They have clearly developed a sense of
dentification with their Pacific brothers, which

serves as a milestone in the Chamorro struggle for
m identity separate from their colonizer.

Central to the discussion of re-created art is its

validation both inside and outside Chamorro soci

ety. Traditional art by definition implies that the
irt form has been in the culture for a period of
:ime with skills passed down through generations.
1 His definition must concede that at some point
n time the art form began as an innovation, was

:mbraced by the culture, and through time
jecame a tradition. How do we classify re-created
irt forms, which are based on traditions and art

60 Pacific Arts

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Figure 3. Taotao Tano’ (“people of the land”) dancers conduct an opening chant to bless the Gef Pa’go Chamorro
Cultural Fair, February 2000. Photograph by Ron J. Castro.

_c
eu

forms not passed down? One member of the ICTM

discussion group who talked about the Guam pres
entation in Samoa felt that “reconstructed” art

forms should be presented as such “so people will
not have the idea that they are trying to be authen
tic” (Adrienne Kaeppler, ITCM discussion partici
pant, 1996). In a more scholarly treatment on the

subject of authenticity, Kaeppler distinguishes
between what she calls “evolved traditional” – “art

forms that have changed along indigenous lines,
while retaining their traditional structure and senti

ment” – and “nontraditional…folk art and airport
art that may be made by traditional techniques but
has lost the integral association of the visual and
verbal ritual originally involved in its production
(Howard & Borofsky, 1989: 234-5). She further
states that:

Traditional art and its evolved forms need

to be examined ethnohistorically, while
studies of nontraditional art must be relat

ed to knowledge about the functioning
societies that produced it. Exploring the
relationship between artistic and societal
change may help us to better comprehend
the nature of both art and society, as well as

the processes of sociocultural change.
(Howard & Borofsky, 1989: 236)

I would like to pursue this train of thought
further to explore how re-created art, when based

on historical interpretation of one’s heritage, is
used to reflect and respond to contemporary soci
ety. By using both methods – the study of the eth

nohistory of the Chamorro people and knowledge
of contemporary societal issues – we can come to a
better understanding of how re-created art can be
authenticated.

Frank Rabon proposes that authentication
should not be based on actual dance practices of
the past, but upon contemporary interpretation of

available artifacts and observations of early visitors
about Chamorro life. Another discussant in the

ICTM discussion group felt that there is no reason
to explain whether an artistic presentation is
“invented” because “It’s up to us to interpret what

they’re doing, and what they’re doing is their cul

ture. It may be the culture of this subgroup, but it
is their culture” (ICTM discussion participant,
1996:2). These statements imply that the impor
tance of an artistic tradition is determined by its

Pacific Arts 6l

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large over a period of time, coupled with emulation
and use of the art form by its members makes it a
more valid determinant of authenticity.

We can see how cultural exchanges such as the
Festival of Pacific Arts have influenced Chamorro

artists in a variety of ways. Such cultural interac
tion has created a sense of cultural consciousness

that has encouraged Chamorros to perceive them
selves as being Pacific islanders. This in itself is a
big step from colonial perceptions of Guam as an

extension of the United States. A significant
minority has accepted that Chamorros are geo
graphically Micronesian and are beginning to look
towards their Carolinian neighbors to explore
artistic expression. But it seems that most are
using their cultural exchange inspirations to devel
op a Chamorro identity based on a more pan
Pacific model.

In conclusion, I echo Rabons words, often

repeated by his followers and others who work
towards an indigenous Chamorro identity
(Rabon, 2001:3):

Susteni i kutturan i chamoru siha, i man

mapos, pa’go, yan i manmamaila” — Sustain
the culture of the chamorros, for those who

have passed on, those of the present, and
those who are yet to come.

Notes

1. Rabon (known as Frank) was forty at the time
of this interview in 1996.

2. An example of Chamorro history from the
Chamorro perspective is the “Hale-ta series of
school texts, written by local scholars under
the umbrella of the Political Status Education

Co-ordinating Commission.
3. The first three Festivals only invited South

Pacific countries, so any representation at that
time would have been a token gesture by the
governor of Guam indicating Guam’s interest
in participating. The traditional protocol of a
hosting Pacific nation would not have refused
an official request to send one or more repre
sentatives, even if they weren’t from South
Pacific nations.

4. American Country Western music became
popular in Guam in the 1920s with the intro
duction of cowboy movies. U.S. Country
tunes were translated to Chamorro, or entirely

new lyrics were substituted. This practice is
still prevalent, with many local recording
artists using old tunes with new lyrics.

5. This festival was originally scheduled for 1984
in New Caledonia. Because of the political
unrest there, the event was moved to Tahiti

and took place in 1985.
6. They graciously allowed me to record their ses

sion and to use a summary of their discussion

in this writing. Names have been cited for
those who gave me written permission to do
so.

7. The way the word “Chamorro” is spelled has
become a politicized statement. Chamorro
rights activists tend to use the “oru” spelling.
In this case, the organizers were being pro
active in the use of the Chamorro language.

References

Fitzgerald, T. 1998. “Metaphors, media and
social change: Second generation Cook
Islanders in New Zealand,” in Pacific answers
to Western hegemony: Cultural practices of iden

tity Construction. 253-268, ed. J. Wassmann.
Oxford and New York: Berg

Hale’-ta: HlNASSO’: Tinige Put Chamorro
(Insights: The Chamorro Identity). Produced
and Published by the Political Status
Education Coordinating Commission as
Mandated by Public Law 20 – 99. 199

Howard, A. and Borofsky, R. (Eds.) 1989.

Developments in Polynesian Ethnology.
Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.

Moore, D., Hunter-Anderson, R. and

amesbury, J. 1988. Final Report: Route 1
reconstruction (Route 8 to Camp Watkins Road)
archaeological analysis of the East Agana area
materials. Prepared for Tokyo Seikitokyu Joint
Venture.

PETERSEN, G. 1992. “Off-the-shelf tradition:

Variation versus Invention,” in Pacific
History: Papers from the 8th Pacific History
Association Conference. 201-212, ed. D.
Rubinstein. Mangilao, Guam: University of
Guam Press and Micronesian Area Research
Center.

Rabon, F. 2001. Pa’a Taotao Tano’- A way of life,
people of the land: Chamorro chants & dances of
Guam. Mangilao, Guam: Irensia Publishing.

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ROGERS, R. F. 1995. Destiny’s landfall: A History
of Guam. University of Hawai’i Press.
Honolulu.

WASSMAN, J. (1998). “Introduction”. Wassmann,

J., (ed.) Pacific answers to Western hegemony:
Cultural practices of identity construction.
Oxford and New York: Berg. 1 -36

Interviews and Personal Communications

Crisostomo, Maria. May 1994. Personal com
munication at Inarajan Senior Citizens gather
ing. Gef Pai’go Chamorro Cultural Village.
ICTM. September 15, 1996. International
Council for Traditional Music -Music of

Oceania Study Group. Informal meeting.
Apia, Samoa.
Intergenerational Conference on Chamoru
Language and Culture. Transcript of discus
sion, February 25, 1999; Hilton Hotel, Guam.
Iriarte, Leonard. March 4, 1996. Interview for

case study. Taped and transcribed.

Kaeppler, Adrienne. September 15, 1996.

ICTM – International Council on Traditional

Music – Study Group of Oceania. Comments
made during discussion of informal gathering.
Apia, Samoa.
Moulin, Jane Freeman. September 15, 1996.
ICTM – International Council on Traditional

Music – Study Group of Oceania. Comments
made during discussion of informal gathering.
Apia, Samoa.
Rabon, Frank. 2001. Text of personal journal
shared with the author.

Rabon, Frank. May 6, 1996. Interview for case

study. Taped and transcribed.
Smith, Barbara. October 4, 1996. ICTM

chairperson. Personal written communication.
Taitano, Carlos. September 22, 1996. Personal
written communication.

Wehi, Ngapo. September 15, 1996. Personal
written communication.

Pacific Arts 63

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