#the US annexed Hawai‘i

[luna-mistrunner]

additionally I’ve always been all about landback and such movements. I think that it’s very clear that an imperialist state like the US or Israel “granting sovereignty” to an indigenous population and forcing them to move into allotted slots of land is inherently a process created to legally and politely attempt to wipe them from the world or minimize them to the point that their resistance is negligible. It makes it so that if there is resistance involving any form of force, they can do things like declare war and further press their spear of ethnic cleansing.

It’s malicious. It’s horrible. It’s something they create to sanitize the injustice they’re committing and rig the game in their favor, give themselves legality to continue committing atrocities. There are many such cases as this and ALL of them are bad.

A two state solution does NOT work. This option is almost completely analogous to punitive imprisonment most of the time. I think that most of my followers know I think this but I have gotten more followers over the years and I don’t know how many of you clearly understand how I feel in general

[wearejapanese]

Lee A. Tonouchi Special to Da Hawai‘i Herald

My great grandma who wuz born in Okinawa in 1885 had traditional Okinawan hand tattoos known as hajichi. Esteemed Okinawan cultural expert, Eric Wada of da eju-ma-cational group Ukwanshin Kabudan wen do field research on what motivated Okinawan women for get their hajichi. Wada Shinshï (teacher) shares “hajichi was around and in use from pre-contact times so there is no written documentation of exactly when and how it started, however through oral and documented information, it evolved into a woman’s right of passage to adulthood and had many other spiritual connections, such as genealogy, cosmology and social status.”

Growing up my great grandma felt ashamed of her tattoos cuz in Okinawa, Okinawans wuz coming for be made for feel ashamed of everyting Okinawan. When she came Hawai‘i to work plantation, my great grandma wuz so self-conscious that she made my grandma promise that when she ma-ke time, she wanted to be put in da casket with gloves on.

But how could something that wuz once one mark of great cultural pride transform into one mark of shame? Wada Shinshï explains, “hajichi was banned and discouraged after the illegal annexation and overthrow of the Ryükyü Kingdom in 1879, which resulted in implementation of assimilation programs by the Japanese government, which brainwashed the native people to be ashamed of their ‘savage’ cultural practices and assimilate to the modern and ‘civilized’ Japanese culture.”

For da past several decades dis art form for Okinawan women had been dying out to da point where I noticed that most of my younger friends in Okinawa had nevah even seen hajichi before. Das how rare it wuz.

Interestingly, in da past couple few years seems like get one revival going on. Wada Shinshï shares his mana‘o on dis phenomenon: “I am happily cautious about the hajichi resurgence and optimistic because things that have been put to sleep can come back. There will be individuals who just want to do it as a fad or without such deep connections, and that is their choice, but for the most part, I see more interest in reviving the tradition connected to the deeper spirituality and identity.”

Below get tree young Local Uchinänchu women and their hajichi stories.

Read more...

[maximumtalewonderland]

Hawaii becomes 50th state

The modern United States receives its crowning star when President Dwight D. Eisenhower signs a proclamation admitting (Native spelling: Hawai‘i) into the Union as the 50th state. The president also issued an order for an American flag featuring 50 stars arranged in staggered rows: five six-star rows and four five-star rows. The new flag became official July 4, 1960.

The first known settlers of the Hawaiian Islands were Polynesian voyagers who arrived sometime in the eighth century. In the early 18th century, American traders came to Hawaii to exploit the islands’ sandalwood, which was much valued in China at the time. In the 1830s, the sugar industry was introduced to Hawaii and by the mid 19th century had become well established. American missionaries and planters occupied the islands and brought about massive changes in Hawaiian political, cultural, economic and religious life. In 1840, a constitutional monarchy was established, stripping the Hawaiian monarch of much of his authority.

In 1893, a group of American expatriates and sugar planters supported by a division of U.S. Marines deposed Queen Liliuokalani, the last reigning monarch of Hawaii. One year later, the Republic of Hawaii was established as a U.S. protectorate with Hawaiian-born Sanford B. Dole as president. Many in Congress opposed the formal annexation of Hawaii, and it was not until 1898, following the use of the naval base at Pearl Harbor during the Spanish-American War, that Hawaii’s strategic importance became evident and formal annexation was approved. Two years later, Hawaii was organized into a formal U.S. territory. During World War II, Hawaii became firmly ensconced in the American national identity following the surprise Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941.

[freehawaii]

KUMU PAUL NEVES - PEACEFUL WARRIOR & AMBASSADOR OF ALOHA

Ke Ola -March/April 2020 - By Marcia Timboy

Kumu Hula Paul Neves is a familiar and esteemed presence to many on Hawai`i Island: a cultural practitioner, community organizer, vocal proponent of Native Hawaiian rights and sovereignty, and a high chief in the Royal Order of Kamehameha I. He has created hālau hula communities on a foundation of aloha with the intent of making a difference in the world, through the practice of Hawaiian cultural arts and values.

Paul was born in San Francisco, California on September 27, 1953, the 13th child of Manuel “Red” Neves and Agnes Kaina Kea. His father, Red, was from Kīlauea, Kaua`i. Paul’s grandparents, Joao Neves and Maria Rodrigues-De Pao, migrated from Madeira, Portugal to Kaua`i as plantation laborers in 1907. Red moved to O`ahu for better employment opportunities soon after high school. He eventually found work with the federal government.

“Papa was a civil service crane operator at Pearl Harbor, in charge of putting fresh water on the battleships. He narrowly escaped death during the bombing of Pearl Harbor on Sunday, December 7, 1941.”

Paul’s mother, Agnes Kea from Palama, O`ahu, was one of 14 children (as was Red). Her father, John Kea Mano was born in Kalaupapa, Molok`‘i. Agnes’ great-grandfather, Mano, originally from Wailua, Kaua‘i, was diagnosed with Hansen’s disease and sent to Kalaupapa leper colony in 1888.

Mano and a Lahaina woman, Nellie Nahiole`a, who also contracted the disease, started a family. Agnes Kea’s grandfather, born in 1892 in Kalaupapa, did not have leprosy. “My maternal great-grandparents’ signatures can be found on the ku‘e document, protesting the annexation of Hawai`i.”

After a quick courtship of two months, Red Neves and Agnes Kea were married in the Honolulu neighborhood of Kalihi in 1933. “My parents began their family in 1934. The war years were challenging for many kama`āina families. My dad did not like martial law in Hawai`i,” recalls Paul. Following WWII, his dad assisted in the cleanup after the Hilo tsunami of 1946. When his civil service job relocated to the West Coast, the family relocated as well.

Growing up Hawaiian on the Mainland

Kumu Paul was born in San Francisco, but he was brought up in the Hawaiian/kama`āina way. The Neves `ohana (family) bought a house and several lots in Bernal Heights in San Francisco, creating a Hawaiian-style homestead. “Dad raised pigs, cattle, goats, chickens, and we had an orchard and vegetable gardens. My folks tried to duplicate old Papakōlea [Hawaiian homestead lands in Honolulu] right above the City,” Paul remembers fondly.

During the 1950s through 1960s, the family was part of an intimate San Francisco community of Hawai`i transplants, hosting entertainers from “home” with backyard kanikapila (music jams) and island-style home cooking. Many of the Fairmont Hotel’s Tonga Room entertainers, and other touring Hawaiian musicians from ocean liners, would find their way up to the “Hawaiian homestead” of Bernal Heights. His mother, always so graciously generous in an innately Hawaiian way, shared whatever the family had.

“Poor is when you don’t know who you are,” Agnes Kea Neves told young Paul and his siblings, and she made sure they knew who they were, grounded in where they came from, Hawai`i.

His parents visited Hawai`i at least once a year on the Lurline or Mariposa ocean liners, to visit family and friends and transport Hawai‘i food and other supplies back to their adopted home.

The turbulent 1960s—with the Vietnam War, racial discord, and social upheaval—brought life-changing challenges to the Hawaiian family. Compelled to move back to Hawai`i after more than two decades away, the family settled in Kailua, O`ahu in 1968.

“They never forgot who they were or where they came from. My dad never considered himself haole,” says Paul, although his dad was Portuguese—of European descent.

Wandering, to Return

Young Paul graduated from Kailua High School in 1971, and left the islands in 1973 to seek adventure and opportunity. He and a friend headed down the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco to Mexico.

“We hung out there [Mexico] for around six months, living like hippies!” After driving back to Northern California, he explored living in several cities while working for Air California from 1974–1984, moving from Oakland to San Diego in 1975, and from San Diego to Las Vegas in 1979.

Moving to Las Vegas was a pivotal point in strengthening his cultural identity. He began studying renowned Kumu Hula No`eau Winona “Nona” Desha-Beamer, and kumu `ūniki (given status of kumu hula) from Aunty Nona in 1968. Subsequently, `ūniki was from Kumu Kaho`onei in 1999, after 20 years of study.

Since moving to Hilo in 1984, Kumu Paul has been active and involved in spiritual, cultural, and political issues facing Native Hawaiians. In 1986, he was a founding member of Ka Lahui Hawai`i, a sovereignty initiative. He also served the Catholic community for 21 years as a pastoral associate until 2004. He has given workshops in the Cook Islands, across the US continent, Puerto Rico, Europe, at the United Nations, the World Council of Churches, the United Nations Human Rights Commission in Geneva, Switzerland, and has participated as an official observer for the Royal Order of Kamehameha I in regards to the Hawaiian Kingdom at World Court in The Hague, Netherlands.

Kumu Paul established Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Akala in 1998; Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Kinohi in 2004, jointly based in Hilo, San Francisco, and Kyoto, Japan; and Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Mokihana in Washington, DC. He has judged and participated in hula competitions in Hawai‘i and Japan, including Hilo’s own Merrie Monarch Festival. “Hula people are ambassadors of aloha,” Paul proudly states.

When his parents moved to Hawai`i Island from O`ahu in 1989, Kumu Paul was already an integral member of the Hawaiian cultural community and aware of its concerns—one being the overdevelopment of “crown lands”  on Mauna Kea. He asked his mother, Agnes Kea, about lineal ties to Mauna Kea, because of the family name.

“She said there is protection from Mauna a Kea, that it brings about balance. ‘Weʻre Kea people—unblemished.

The mountain without blemish. Itʻs so holy, youʻre not supposed to go up there and if you do go there, itʻs for something really important. You walk very softly; you leave no footprints.ʻ Thatʻs how she explained it.”

Kumu Paul believes he returned home to Hawai‘i for a higher purpose. “We were given a special place to live with God. That’s why the whole world comes here. We cannot replace what it is.”

Kāhea—The Call

On April 10, 2009, Kumu Paul attended the momentous 50th wedding anniversary of Emperor Akihito and Empress Michiko of Japan. He had developed a rapport with the royal family when, as a member of the Royal Order of Kamehameha I, he escorted Princess Sayako to the top of Mauna Kea in 1998 to visit Subaru Observatory. They met with the late well-known astronomer, Dr. Norio Kaifu, then the Subaru project’s director.

During a lunch meeting a few years later, Kumu Paul and his mentor, Genesis LeeLoy, candidly expressed their concern on further development atop Mauna Kea to Dr. Kaifu. “Please do not build more after Subaru,” they implored Dr. Kaifu. Kumu Paul believes that conversation was the reason no observatories have been built on Mauna Kea since 1998. Kumu Paul honored the astronomer’s integrity when he was invited to speak at Dr. Kaifu’s memorial in Tokyo in September 2019 by sharing the story of the lunch meeting to hundreds of dignitaries and scientists. “Dr. Kaifu [an architect of the TMT] didn’t say where to build the Thirty Meter Telescope [TMT]…Would you put it on Mount Fuji?”

The proposal of building the TMT has awakened an activist movement for many Hawaiians and their supporters worldwide.

Kumu Paul believes that Mauna Kea has called out “she that protects, now needs protecting.” He and the Royal Order of Kamehameha I, have heeded the kāhea (call), by establishing an ahu (altar) and a pu`uhonua (place of refuge) at the base of Mauna Kea. They have stood in vigilance since July 13, 2019 to protect Mauna Kea from further development and will do so “until the last aloha ‘āina,” Paul declares.

“The spirit of Mauna Kea is calling upon the Hawaiian people to realign their spiritual past, present, and future. Hawaiians have the kuleana, the privilege, and responsibility to share ‘kapu aloha’ with the world.” Paul believes that the true physical sign of this is: first light at Kumukahi, Puna, aligns with the Naha stone to Mauna Kea’s summit and consequently up the island chain to Mokumanamana in the northwest Hawaiian Islands.

Kumu Paul reflects, “We are all here for a reason. In my vision, Hawai`i is the new Geneva. This is where people come to learn peace. The Mauna Kea movement is firmly grounded in the concept of ‘kapu alohaʻ—to conduct oneself in pono [righteous] and sacred behavior, and many who visit the mauna are touched to practice peace. One must be silent when approaching Mauna Kea, listen to what she has to say, as she is bringing balance and alignment for all of us here.”

[homaikaike]

Navigating the Complexities of the Hawaiian Diaspora

Final Part of: “Misplaced” Hawaiians and the Myth of the Non-Existent Diaspora

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Final (Whole Project)

Hawaiian Studies 343: Myths of Hawaiian History | 17 December 2020 (edited for blog posting)

(Intro edited for the sake of this blog post). I am a Texas-made, “misplaced” Hawaiian, and part of the second generation of diasporic Kanaka Maoli[1] in my ʻohana[2] to be raised off-island from Hawaiʻi. My kūpuna[3] hail from the islands of Maui and Hawaiʻi, and like the many before and after them, had to leave their home sands as a result of enforced militarism, capitalism, and other remnants of post-contact colonialism. While my Hawaiian identity has always been a defining part of my life, I have come to learn of the complexities that come with growing up Hawaiian, and how all that can change for members of the diaspora community who return to Hawaiʻi. Being part of a culture nearly smothered by the weight of oppression, Hawaiians local to Hawaiʻi—especially of our grandparents’ generation—have been trained to hide their pride, hāmau[4] their leo[5], and police their culture in order to stay safe. Hawaiians who left Hawaiʻi, (“even mo’ worse” according to my tūtū[6] lady) were put on a pedestal by colonial exoticism; pushed out by factors such as the military, cost of living, and the constant call of “better opportunities”. This post will explore the complex identities of diasporic Hawaiians, why they continue to exist outside of Hawaiʻi, and what got some of them there in the first place.

It is imperative that I continue to explain what allows someone to claim the Hawaiian identity. When the Hawaiian people lost our sovereignty through the illegal invasion and overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i in 1893, and again through the subsequent annexation by the United States of America in 1898, we lost control over the meaning of “Hawaiian”.[7] People calling themselves “Hawaiian” became ambiguous, as residents of the Territory of Hawai‘i, and then of the state, were then to be called “Hawaiian” along with the indigenous people of the land.[8] Using the identifier “Native Hawaiian” carries its own colonial baggage, yet unlike how in Western culture, where “Texan” or “Californian” folks use their home state as a label, calling oneself “Hawaiian” is a direct reflection of ancestry. To call oneself  Hawaiian is to tell of bloodline, where people originate, and of heritage. To say “I am Hawaiian” is not to say I simply live in Hawaiʻi, as Hawaiians are instead defined by ancestry—an invaluable facet of the Hawaiian identity.[9] To say “I am Hawaiian”, is to say I am Hawaiian by ethnicity; by blood and ancestry. Where a Hawaiian lives, be it Hawaiʻi or elsewhere, does not change their ethnicity and it is important to remember that living away from Hawaiʻi will not make a Kanaka Maoli less Hawaiian.

“Misplaced” Hawaiians

My tūtū lady uses the term “misplaced” when people ask what us Hawaiians were doing, living in Texas. “Are you lost?” they would ask, to which she would reply, “not lost, just misplaced”. In her reasoning, she prefers “misplaced”, because being “lost” would mean we would not know where we are, where we come from, or where we are going, and as our tūtū she made sure her keiki[10] and moʻopuna[11] knew all of those things, and found pride in our heritage. To her, being misplaced brought recognition to the fact that we did not exist in our place of origin, but knew where we truly “belonged”. Growing up in Texas, I had become accustomed to non-Hawaiians and others outside of Hawaiʻi being surprised to encounter Kanaka Maoli living off-island. The (illegal) incorporation of Hawai‘i as the fiftieth of the United States in 1959 brought more mainstream US attention to the islands, but Hawai‘i and Hawaiians remained exotic unknowns.[12] Before long, Hawaiians were already rare to encounter throughout Hawaiʻi, let alone in central Texas, or other states.

There are pockets of Hawaiians and other Pacific Islanders all over the world, with heavy concentrations throughout the continental United States. In fact, as of 2018, the top five states home to Kanaka Maoli outside of Hawaiʻi are California, Washington, Nevada, Texas, and Oregon, home to over 60,000 diasporic Hawaiians.[13] In the diaspora communities, such as the one in Texas where I grew up, Hawaiian culture thrives. Kanaka Maoli can be found at Hawaiian music get-togethers, festivals, running restaurants, or performing with their Hula Hālau[14]. The last few years, in fact, has brought a resurgence of Hawaiian pride, with online resources such as Kanaeokana Hawaiian culture video webcasts, and Duolingo and Hālau ʻŌlelo language programs giving communities in diaspora the opportunity to stay in touch with and learn more of our heritage even if circumstances do not allow all of us to be in Hawaiʻi. While Hawaiians outside of Hawaiʻi find pride in our roots, and use it to network and find each other throughout the ʻāina ʻē[15], many have faced criticism for their diaspora identity.

Perspectives on Diasporic Hawaiians

Speaking from my own experience, my cousins, brothers and I were always known as “The Hawaiians” as we grew up in San Antonio; my mother would send me to school with lei wili[16] tied around my hair when she could not tame it any other way, my cousin would pack spam musubi in our lunch sacks, and we were all trained to carry kīhei[17] in our backpacks “in case we got cold”. We are proud Hawaiians, and we lived as we were taught to by our tūtū. To us, this inherent “Hawaiian-ness” was second nature, and though we knew Hawaiʻi as our motherland, Texas was still our home. However, that Texas-made Hawaiian pride suddenly felt fraudulent upon my return to Hawaiʻi for college. It was as if my Hawaiian identity was lost, because all I had become to local Hawaiians in Hawaiʻi was Texan. I speak with an American Southern accent, not pidgin, and I grew up on apple-sauce and Texas Toast, not poi[18] nor ʻulu[19], so my family in Maui would ask “what kine Hawaiian you?” To them, I had grown up in Texas, not Hawaiʻi and therefore I was not Hawaiian—or at least not Hawaiian enough.[20] This is a product of the myth that, not only do Hawaiians not exist outside of Hawaiʻi, but that we cannot.

Returning from diaspora to Hawaiʻi creates more complex struggles than just the increased cost of living. The working term for the following phenomena is deracination. On-island nationalist discourses that privilege “rootedness” on the land over Hawaiian “routedness” away from the islands contribute to the myth of off-island Hawaiian non-existence.[21] Hawaiian out-migration is too often seen as an unsavory exception, as opposed to a rather common occurrence. Hawaiians local to Hawaiʻi have often charged those in diaspora with abandonment. However, even among Kanaka Maoli who exist now in diaspora, there is not always a meaningful understanding that Hawaiians who may have never lived in Hawai‘i can and continue to cultivate links to Hawai‘i as “home”. These Hawaiians, including myself, I regard to as “diaspora-made”. The attitude of people in the diaspora from those local to Hawaiʻi creates a tension with identity. Hawaiians who were raised abroad, raised to be so proud of their Hawaiian heritage, are then figuratively shrunk down to size, known only as “off-islander” or even haole[22] in some cases. This is not just limited to my experience, either.

Surprisingly enough, upon arrival in Hawai'i, I was often categorized as "from Virginia," or teasingly called haole. It was hard to be finally where I always felt I belonged, and still not quite fit in.[23]

This is representative of an experience unique to Hawaiians who were born and raised away from Hawaiʻi; children raised to love their Hawaiian-ness are then told they cannot be a part of it when they return to their homelands.

It must be hard to grow up as Native diaspora. I can relate on a small level, living away from [Hawaiʻi] for the past 7 years...claiming your right to [identify as] an Indigenous person is liberating and freeing. I know I feel closer to my ancestors when I own my identity as a Native Hawaiian. Hope no one ever makes you feel that you are less Native because you are diaspora.[24]

This self-othering reaction from the local Hawaiian population seems to stem off of the history of cultural oppression within Hawaiʻi. Local Hawaiians have faced scrutiny for any type of Hawaiian nationalism or cultural pride, and many have not had the privilege to be openly proud of their Hawaiian heritage as our diasporic counterparts.

Not only can I provide articles of NATIVE HAWAIIANS TALKING ABOUT HOW SHAME THEY WERE TO BE HAWAIIAN. But I also have PRESENT DAY HAWAIIANS that will tell you how they grew up wishing they weren't Hawaiian.[25]

The phenomenon that many Kanaka Maoli see, especially those who grew up in Hawaiʻi, is that all contemporary Hawaiians come from a past where our parents’, grandparents’, or great-grandparents’ practice of Hawaiian language and culture was forbidden, legislated against, brutally punished, or a combination of these.[26] Kanaka Maoli scholar ʻIlima Long, is a “returned” diasporic Hawaiian, meaning that she had the opportunity to return to and live in Hawaiʻi from her previous life in diaspora. Having worked with plenty of students during her time, she is one of the kumu[27] that not only understands the experiences of off-island Hawaiian youth, but is also trying to change the narrative and explain what the tensions of identity can contribute to the academic prosperity of Hawaiʻi:

I trip out when I think about how many [diasporic] Hawaiians I know who've [returned] home that I'm close to in Hawai'i, and what they bring to the lāhui from that positionality. But these are folks who have largely worked through the jolting identity issues that face kanaka who come home.[28]

With the increasing use of social media and the growing accessibility of Hawaiian culture classes and online groups, Hawaiians in diaspora are slowly making their way into local-Hawaiian-dominant spaces, and changing the perspective on how diasporic Kanaka Maoli are seen. Because of this, I feel that the greater idea—the pride of being part of a culture actively being oppressed—has instead connected those in diaspora communities to those in the local Hawaiian communities, with many locals now recognizing the difficulties and inner identity struggles that people face with being a Hawaiian raised away from Hawaiʻi. It is even more important at this point to see what has pushed so many Hawaiians away from Hawaiʻi, and what keeps them from returning home.

Pushing Factors

Two of the main factors that Kanaka Maoli in diaspora can identify as their reasons for not remaining local are the military and the cost of living in Hawaiʻi. Similar to Guam and other American territories, Hawaiʻi is regarded as a “recruitment paradise”, stemming from the historic recruitment strategy borrowed from the Indian Wars in the continental United States where the U.S. Army would purposely seek to enlist certain native groups.[29] Today, there are a total of eleven U.S. military bases within Hawaiʻi, and in her top-five diaspora counterparts, forty-eight in California, twenty-eight in Texas, four in Nevada, four in Oregon, and twelve in Washington.[30] With the ever-increasing U.S. military presence in Hawaiʻi, more land appropriations for military installations in the islands contribute to the higher rates of migration to the continental United States, and the reason why so many Hawaiians are in the diaspora.[31] The American military is the reason my tūtū left their home sands, and the reason why many others in the Hawaiian community in Texas ended up there as well. However, militarism is not the only pushing factor causing Hawaiians to leave Hawaiʻi.

Though migration of Hawaiians can be traced back for centuries, the more common and contemporary reasons are based on the economic stresses involving life in Hawaiʻi. For example, out-migration starting in the 1990s was linked to the swelling economic pressures of a growing, multi-national tourist industry, continued civil rights abuses of Hawaiian land trust obligations, and the state and U.S. government’s refusal to recognize Hawaiian assertions of sovereignty.[32] By the beginning of the 2010s, Kanaka Maoli living in Hawai‘i—especially families with children—were more likely to be unemployed, while those on the continent are more likely to have white-collar jobs, less likely to have a college degree than those in diaspora, and more likely than those on the continent to live in poverty.[33]

I’d love to come back home, but the economy in Hawaiʻi was killing us financially. Milk [in Utah] is $1.25 a gallon...I am heartbroken every day because I want to come home, but reality reminds me why I cannot (Dawn Lehuanani Hutchinson, Utah).[34]

The financial situation in Hawaiʻi is one of the main reasons why Hawaiians will move off-island, and many in diaspora find “easier” or “more affordable” lives outside of Hawaiʻi.

Various forms of deracination continue to discount Hawaiian histories and contribute to a tension between diasporic and on-island identities.[35] Though, as times change and the younger generation finds the value in getting to know their roots, be it on-site or online, the diasporic community of Kanaka Maoli are no less Hawaiian than those enjoying all the opportunities and pride of a contemporary Kanaka Maoli in Hawaiʻi. As a Kanaka Maoli myself, returned to Hawaiʻi from the diaspora community in Texas, I realize just how complex the movements of Hawaiian peoples are, and all the pressures that come with surviving a culture both on and off-island. Much more research and many more stories wait to be uncovered and told, as academica continues to debunk the myth of non-existent Hawaiian networks in diaspora.

--------------------------------------

Notes

*all pictures used above are mine, courtesy of me*

[1]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 127: Human, person; 240, native, indigenous, respectively. Conjunctly referring to an indigenous Hawaiian.

[2]Ibid., 276: Family, relative, kin group.

[3]Ibid., 186: Plural, grandparent, ancestor.

[4]Ibid., 55: Silent, silence, hush.

[5]Ibid., 203: Voice.

[6]Ibid., 178: Grandparent, commonly used as “tūtū lady” or “tūtū man” as an affectionate term for grandparents

[7]Lisa K. Hall, “Hawaiian at Heart” and Other Fictions, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2005), pg. 404.

[8]Ibid.

[9]Jonathan Osorio, “What Kine Hawaiian Are You?”, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2001), pg. 361.

[10]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 142: Child, offspring.

[11]Ibid., 254: Grandchild.

[12]Lisa K. Hall “Hawaiian at Heart” and Other Fictions, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2005), pg. 405.

[13]U.S. Census Bureau, ACS Demographic and Housing Estimates, 2018 American Community Survey 1-Year Estimates Data Profile (2018).

[14]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 52: Referring to a hula school or group.

[15]Ibid., 11: Land, 36: different, away off, elsewhere. Used together to refer to foreign lands, or lands other than Hawaiʻi.

[16]Ibid., 201: A lei that is not strung; the leaves or flowers are entwined about each other.

[17]Ibid., 147: Shawl, cape, cloak.

[18]Ibid., 337: A mash made of cooked taro corms, pounded and thinned with water.

[19]Ibid., 369: Breadfruit.

[20]Jonathan Osorio, “What Kine Hawaiian Are You?”, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2001), pg. 362.

[21]J. Kēhaulani Kauanui, Diasporic Deracination and “Off-Island” Hawaiians, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2007), pg. 146.

[22]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 58: Any foreigner.

[23]Noelani K. Lee, Mai Home Hawai’i: Hawaiian Diaspora and the Return of Hawaiians From the Diaspora, 2003., 8.

[24]Palakiko Chandler, Twitter post. December 5, 2019, 1:00 p.m., https://twitter.com/palakiks/status/1202724336144007168.

[25]Moani, Andresen, Twitter post. October, 6,  2020, 4:33 p.m., https://twitter.com/MoaniAndresen/status/1313668856410300416

[26]Lisa K. Hall “Hawaiian at Heart” and Other Fictions, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2005), pg. 410.

[27]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 182: Teacher.

[28]ʻIlima Long, Twitter post. March 6, 2019, 7:03 a.m., https://twitter.com/ItsIlima/status/1103340225609129984.

[29]Maile Arvin, Securing Paradise: Tourism and Militarism in Hawaiʻi, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2014), pg. 560.

[30]“Military Bases by State,” Military Bases, November 29, 2020, http://www.militarybases.us/by-state/.

[31]J. Kēhaulani Kauanui, Diasporic Deracination and “Off-Island” Hawaiians, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2007), pg. 145.

[32]Ibid., 146.

[33]Ibid.

[34]Keli'i Akina, "Why People Are Leaving 'Paradise'," editorial, Hawaii Tribune Herald, June 28, 2019, accessed October 21, 2020, https://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/2019/06/02/opinion/why-people-are-leaving-paradise/)

[35]J. Kēhaulani Kauanui, Diasporic Deracination and “Off-Island” Hawaiians, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2007), pg. 145.

sources

Akina, Keli'i. "Why People Are Leaving 'Paradise'." Editorial. Hawaii Tribune Herald, June 28, 2019. Accessed October 21, 2020. https://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/2019/06/02/opinion/why-people-are-leaving-paradise/.

Andresen, Moani. “Twitter / @MoaniAndresen: Not only can I provide articles…” October 6, 2020, 4:33 p.m., https://twitter.com/MoaniAndresen/status/1313668856410300416.

Arvin, Maile. “Securing Paradise: Tourism and Militarism in Hawai’i and the Philippines.” Contemporary Pacific. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2014. http://search.proquest.com/docview/1559516264/.

Chandler, Palakiko. “Twitter / @palakiks: It must be hard to grow up Native…” December 5, 2019, 1:00 p.m., https://twitter.com/palakiks/status/1202724336144007168.

Hall, Lisa Kahaleʻole. ""Hawaiian at Heart" and Other Fictions." The Contemporary Pacific 17, no. 2 (2005): 404-13.

Kauanui, J. Kēhaulani. Diasporic Deracination and “Off-Island” Hawaiians, The Contemporary Pacific 19 no. 1 (2007): 138-160.

Lee, Noelani K. Mai Home Hawai’i: Hawaiian Diaspora and the Return of Hawaiians From the Diaspora, 2003.

Long, Ilima. “Twitter / @ItsIlima: I trip out when I think about…” March 6, 2019, 7:03 a.m.‏ https://twitter.com/ItsIlima/status/1103340225609129984.

“Military Bases by State.” Military Bases, November 29, 2020. http://www.militarybases.us/by-state/.

Osorio, Jonathan Kamakawiwoʻole. “‘What Kine Hawaiian Are You?" A Mo'olelo about Nationhood, Race, History, and the Contemporary Sovereignty Movement in Hawai'i.” The Contemporary Pacific 13, no. 2 (2001): 359–79.

Pukui, Mary Kawena., and Samuel H. Elbert. Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English, English-Hawaiian. Honolulu, HI: Univ. of Hawaiʻi Press, 1986.

U.S. Census Bureau. ACS Demographic and Housing Estimates, 2018 American Community Survey 1-Year Estimates Data Profile, Table DP05; generated by Isabella Park-Roberts; using American FactFinder (26 July 2020).

[hawaiireview]

The Mauna Archive

This project began on the afternoon of 15 July, 2019; a week after the state of Hawai‘i authorized the University of Hawai‘i to begin construction of its proposed Thirty-Meter Telescope (TMT). With our thoughts on colleagues, friends, and family whom have gone to Mauna Kea, we discussed the affair back here at Mānoa campus. We lamented the fact that the state’s actions compelled our community to stand bravely in solidarity against desecrators of sacred land and the grave injustices done to Hawai‘i and the university. If there was any bright spot in all of this, we decided, it was the outpouring of protest from Hawai‘i residents and beyond. It reminded us of the wave of anti-annexation petitions that swept through Hawai‘i over a century ago, among other moments in history when Hawai‘i stood for its protection.

The support that arose especially over the last week from our community to support kia‘i, educate the public, and provide resources for one another was as inspiring as it was overwhelming, and came in manifold forms: written social media posts, hashtags, infographics, song and dance, videos, etc. What a shame, we thought, if all of this were eventually lost and drowned out in the minutiae of mainstream news, in uninformed opinion, and even in hateful comments that belittle our community and our treasured allies.

It was decided then that the Hawai‘i Review, being in a good position to do so, would collect as much as possible this formidable and vociferous protest. Thus was born this forthcoming archive.

Two days later police began arresting kūpuna kia‘i on Mauna Kea. A protest demonstration was held that morning on the great lawn of the Mānoa campus. Kumu and kūpuna spoke passionately and directly to UH President David Lassner, the latter of whose soft-spoken response did nothing but to brush aside hundreds of Native Hawaiians and university community members before leaving us again without a significant gesture. Hours later, 33 other kia‘i were arrested at Mauna Kea.

Later that day, Governor David Ige issued an emergency proclamation citing an unfounded concern for public safety that gave the state sweeping powers—and free from impunity—to deploy a militarized mass against an unarmed, peaceful assembly. As many have pointed out, this mirrors the reasoning and method used in 1897 by the teacherous Citizen’s Committee of Public Safety to overthrow the sovereign government of Hawai‘i in preparation for annexation by the United States.

Within days of the July 15 standoff at Mauna Kea, protests swelled first on O‘ahu at the Mānoa campus and eventually to include the state capital, the islands of Maui, Moloka‘i, and Kaua‘i, elsewhere in the Pacific including Tahiti, the Marshall Islands, Palau, and Aotearoa; on the US continent in Las Vegas, New York City, California, Colorado, and Alaska. Kia‘i were cheered on as well from German and Japanese supporters. Politicians, celebrities, as well as supporters from also spoke up for the movement and even visited the Mauna to clear up the inaccuracies reported by the state. The protests attracted international attention with news outlets reporting from Europe and South America. Ka leo nui o nā kia‘i o ka Mauna verily shook the earth.

Over the past week, this compilation effort grew from hundreds to thousands of items which we intend to sort, annotate, and archive for future research and recollection. And though it is centered around what is an undoubted hewa on the righteousness and integrity of our ‘āina, aloha foregrounds and exemplifies this collection. Whatever the outcome, it is our sincerest hope that this document serves to remind us of the mana and potential that binds our community to stand steadfast against forces which seek to take and silence.

The breadth and depth of this archive is expansive, but it is by no means complete at any time. This is meant to be an ongoing and living archive and corrections or clarifications are encouraged and welcome. This compilation is also limited to the network and resources available to our current editorial board and contributing collaborators, and we welcome new additions.

Owing to our concern for the privacy and safety of those involved in this compilation, we are doing as much as we can to seek the permission of prospective contributors to include their work as well as to offer anonymity for reasons which we will not question. Nonetheless, we, the editors, affirm and guarantee that all of the material presented here is original and authentic. If any editing has been made to written content, they are indicated by brackets and are done mainly for clarification. This project is also non-profit, and we are not currently planning a saleable version of this archive unless all of its proceeds may equitably benefit the community.

We are continuing to collect and are currently sorting through over a thousand social media posts, beautiful photographs and infographics, dozens of videos and audio recordings, and are compiling an annotated bibliography of hundreds of local and international news reports that have covered this event. We have also compiled a list of supporting organizations, locations of supporting protests around the world, and just about any other aspect of this event that we are trying to keep from disappearing. Our intent is to credit all original producers of the words and works we seek to compile here. This would speak highly of the monumental and collaborative phenomenon that kia‘i have inspired over the past few years.

Please contact us if you have any thoughts or contributions to this project, otherwise we will be reaching out to the community in the coming days.

Kū Kia‘i Mauna!

[freehawaii]

HEREʻS THE ARTICLE MENTIONED ON FREE HAWAI`I TV YESTERDAY

  NEA Today - October 1, 2018 - By Chris Santomauro

In his message to the Congress on December 18, 1893, President Grover Cleveland acknowledged that the Hawaiian Kingdom was unlawfully invaded by United States marines on January 16, 1893, which led to an illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian government the following day. The President told the Congress that he “instructed Minister Willis to advise the Queen and her supporters of [his] desire to aid in the restoration of the status existing before the lawless landing of the United States forces at Honolulu on the 16th of January last, if such restoration could be effected upon terms providing for clemency as well as justice to all parties concerned (U.S House of Representatives, 53d Cong., Executive Documents on Affairs in Hawaii: 1894-95, p. 458).”

What the President didn’t know at the time he gave his message was that Minister Willis succeeded in securing an agreement with the Queen that committed the United States to restore her as the Executive Monarch, and, thereafter, the Queen committed to granting amnesty to the insurgents. International law recognizes this executive agreement as a treaty. The President, however, did not carry out his duty under the treaty to restore the Queen, and, consequently, the Queen did not grant amnesty to the insurgents. The state of war continued.

Insurgency Continues to Seek Annexation to the United States

President Cleveland acknowledged that those individuals who he sought the Queen’s consent to grant amnesty were not a government at all. In fact, he stated they were “neither a government de facto nor de jure (p. 453).” Instead, the President referred to these individuals as “insurgents (Id.),” which by definition are rebels who revolt against an established government. Under Chapter VI of the Hawaiian Penal Code a revolt against the government is treason, which carries the punishment of death and property of the convicted is seized by the Hawaiian government.

On July 3, 1894, the insurgents renamed themselves the Republic of Hawai‘i and continued to seek annexation with the United States. Article 32 of its so-called constitution states, “The President, with the approval of the Cabinet, is hereby expressly authorized and empowered to make a Treaty of Political or Commercial Union between the Republic of Hawaii and the United States of America, subject to the ratification of the Senate.” The insurgents always sought to be annexed by the United States.

After President William McKinley succeeded President Cleveland in office he entered into a treaty of annexation with the insurgents on June 16, 1897, in Washington, D.C. The following day, Queen Lili‘uokalani, who was also in Washington, submitted a formal protest with the State Department. Her protest stated:

“I, Liliuokalani of Hawaii, by the will of God named heir apparent on the tenth day of April, A.D. 1877, and by the grace of God Queen of the Hawaiian Islands on the seventeenth day of January, A.D. 1893, do hereby protest against the ratification of a certain treaty, which, so I am informed, has been signed at Washington by Messrs. Hatch, Thurston, and Kinney, purporting to cede those Islands to the territory and dominion of the United States. I declare such a treaty to be an act of wrong toward the native and part-native people of Hawaii, an invasion of the rights of the ruling chiefs, in violation of international rights both toward my people and toward friendly nations with whom they have made treaties, the perpetuation of the fraud whereby the constitutional government was overthrown, and, finally, an act of gross injustice to me.”

Additional protests were filed with the State Department by two Hawaiian political organizations—the Men and Women’s Hawaiian Patriotic League (Hui Aloha ‘Aina), and the Hawaiian Political Association (Hui Kalai‘aina). President McKinley ignored these protests and was preparing to submit the so-called treaty for ratification by the Senate when the Congress would reconvene in December of 1897.

This prompted the Hawaiian Patriotic League to gather of 21,169 signatures from the Hawaiian citizenry and residents throughout the islands opposing annexation. On December 9, 1897, Senator George Hoar of Massachusetts entered the petition into the Senate record.

Under the Queen’s instructions, the delegates from the two Hawaiian political organizations who were in Washington began to meet with Senators who supported ratifying the so-called treaty. Sixty votes were necessary to accomplish ratification and there were already fifty-eight commitments. By the time the Hawaiian delegation left Washington on February 27, 1897, they had successfully chiseled the fifty-eight 

Senators in support of annexation down to forty-six.

Unable to garner the necessary sixty votes, the so-called treaty was dead by March, yet war with Spain was looming over the horizon, and Hawai‘i would have to face the belligerency of the United States once again. American military interest would be the driving forces to fortify the islands as an outpost to protect the United States from foreign invasion.

Annexation by Legislation

On April 25, 1897, one month after the treaty was killed, Congress declared war on Spain. The Spanish-American War was not waged in Spain, but rather in the Spanish colonies of Puerto Rico and Cuba in the Caribbean, and in the colonies of the Philippines and Guam in the Pacific. On May 1, 1898, Commodore George Dewey defeated the Spanish fleet at Manila Bay in the Philippines.

Three days later in Washington, D.C., Congressman Francis Newlands submitted a joint resolution for the annexation of the Hawaiian Islands to House Committee on Foreign Affairs on May 4. On May 17, the joint resolution was reported out of the committee and headed to the floor of the House of Representatives.

On June 15, 1898, Congressman Thomas H. Ball from Texas emphatically stated, “The annexation of Hawai‘i by joint resolution is unconstitutional, unnecessary, and unwise. …Why, sir, the very presence of this measure here is the result of a deliberate attempt to do unlawfully that which can not be done lawfully (31 Cong. Rec. 5975).”

When the resolution reached the Senate, Senator Augustus Bacon from Georgia sarcastically remarked that, the “friends of annexation, seeing that it was not possible to make this treaty in the manner pointed out by the Constitution, attempted then to nullify the provision of in the Constitution by putting that treaty in the form of a statute, and here we have embodied the provisions of the treaty in the joint resolution which comes to us from the House (31 Cong. Rec. 6150).” Senator Bacon further explained, “That a joint resolution for the annexation of foreign territory was necessarily and essentially the subject matter of a treaty, and that it could not be accomplished legally and constitutionally by a statute or joint resolution (31 Cong. Rec. 6148).”

Despite the objections from Senators and Representatives, it managed to get a majority vote and President McKinley signed the joint resolution into law on July 7, 1898. The military buildup began in August of 1898 with the first army base in Waikiki called Camp McKinley. Today there are 118 military sites throughout the Hawaiian Islands and it serves as the headquarters for the United States Indo-Pacific Command.

Many government officials and constitutional scholars could not explain how a joint resolution could have the extra-territorial force and effect of a treaty in annexing Hawai‘i, a foreign and sovereign state. During the 19th century, Born states, “American courts, commentators, and other authorities understood international law as imposing strict territorial limits on national assertions of legislative jurisdiction (Gary Born, International Civil Litigation in United States Courts, p. 493).”

In 1824, the United Supreme Court explained that, “the legislation of every country is territorial,” and that the “laws of no nation can justly extend beyond its own territory (Rose v. Himely, 8 U.S. 241, p. 279),” for it would be “at variance with the independence and sovereignty of foreign nations (The Apollon, 22 U.S. 362, p. 370).”

In violation of international law and the treaties with the Hawaiian Kingdom, the United States maintained the insurgents’ control until the Congress could reorganize the insurgency so that it would look like a government. On April 30, 1900, the U.S. Congress changed the name of the Republic of Hawai‘i to the Territory of Hawai‘i. Later, on March 18, 1959, the U.S. Congress, again by statute, changed the name of the Territory of Hawai‘i to the State of Hawai‘i.

In 1988, Acting Assistant United States Attorney General, Douglas W. Kmiec, drew attention to this American dilemma in a memorandum opinion written for the Legal Advisor for the Department of State regarding legal issues raised by the proposed Presidential proclamation to extend the territorial sea from a three-mile limit to twelve (Opinions of the Office of Legal Counsel, vol. 12, p. 238-263). After concluding that only the President and not the Congress possesses “the constitutional authority to assert either sovereignty over an extended territorial sea or jurisdiction over it under international law on behalf of the United States (Id., p. 242),” Kmiec also concluded that it was “unclear which constitutional power Congress exercised when it acquired Hawaii by joint resolution. Accordingly, it is doubtful that the acquisition of Hawaii can serve as an appropriate precedent for a congressional assertion of sovereignty over an extended territorial sea (Id., p. 262).”

Kmiec cited United States constitutional scholar Westel Woodbury Willoughby, who wrote in 1929, “The constitutionality of the annexation of Hawaii, by a simple legislative act, was strenuously contested at the time both in Congress and by the press. The right to annex by treaty was not denied, but it was denied that this might be done by a simple legislative act. …Only by means of treaties, it was asserted, can the relations between States be governed, for a legislative act is necessarily without extraterritorial force—confined in its operation to the territory of the State by whose legislature enacted it (Id., p. 252).”

In 1910, Willoughby wrote, “The incorporation of one sovereign State, such as was Hawaii prior to annexation, in the territory of another, is…essentially a matter falling within the domain of international relations, and, therefore, beyond the reach of legislative acts (Willoughby, The Constitutional Law of the United States, vol. 1, p. 345).”

United Nations Acknowledges the Occupation of the Hawaiian Kingdom

In a communication to the State of Hawai‘i dated February 25, 2018 from Dr. Alfred M. deZayas, a United Nations Independent Expert, the UN official acknowledged the prolonged occupation of the Hawaiian Kingdom. He wrote:

“As a professor of international law, the former Secretary of the UN Human Rights Committee, co-author of book, The United Nations Human Rights Committee Case Law 1977-2008, and currently serving as the UN Independent Expert on the promotion of a democratic and equitable international order, I have come to understand that the lawful political status of the Hawaiian Islands is that of a sovereign nation-state that is under a strange form of occupation by the United States resulting from an illegal military occupation and a fraudulent annexation. As such, international laws (the Hague and Geneva Conventions) require that governance and legal matters within the occupied territory of the Hawaiian Islands must be administered by the application of the laws of the occupied state (in this case, the Hawaiian Kingdom), not the domestic laws of the occupier (the United States).”

A state of peace between the Hawaiian Kingdom and the United States was transformed to a state of war when United States troops invaded the Hawaiian Kingdom on January 16, 1893, and illegally overthrew the Hawaiian government the following day. Only by way of a treaty of peace can the state of affairs be transformed back to a state of peace. The 1907 Hague Convention, IV, and the 1949 Geneva Convention, IV, mentioned by the UN official regulate the occupying State during a state of war.

[freehawaii]

REMEMBERING THE ILLEGAL OVERTHROW

Honolulu Star-Advertiser - January 8, 2018 - By Timothy Hurley

In January 1993 the 100th anniversary of the overthrow of Hawaii’s last monarch was observed in a multiday series of events that culminated in a solemn march of about 10,000 people to Iolani Palace for a day of speeches, music and remembrance.

Twenty-five years later a new group of organizers is planning a similar event with a march and observance ceremony expected to draw thousands to Iolani Palace and to the Capitol courtyard next door.

It’s a coincidence that the anniversary falls on the same date — Wednesday, Jan. 17 — as the opening day of the 2018 state Legislature, but organizers of Onipaa Kakou are hoping the occasion will send a loud message to lawmakers as they launch their session.

“Truth and unity,” said Walter Ritte, the veteran sovereignty activist from Molokai and one of the event’s chief organizers. “We want to tell the Legislature the truth about the history of the overthrow and the illegal annexation and to tell them about the unity of the Hawaiian people.”

Getting the message across about unity could be thorny, however. The rift between those who favor a form of sovereignty within the jurisdiction of the United States and those who insist on a fully independent nation appears to be as strong as ever.

But Ritte, who supports an independent Hawaii, said that while Hawaiians don’t all agree on the pathway to a solution, they all agree on the truth about the legality of the overthrow — and that’s what the day is about.

At the Capitol, speeches will be balanced by University of Hawaii Hawaiian studies professor Jon Osorio, an advocate of independence,

and former Gov. John Waihee, who has been raising money for efforts to establish the Na‘i Aupuni constitution, which allows for a federally recognized government.

At the palace, however, the schedule appears to veer toward voices of independence, with speeches by firebrands Andre Perez of Oahu, Kahookahi Kanuha of Hawaii island and UH-Maui College Hawaiian studies professor Kaleikoa Kaeo, each of whom has been arrested multiple times in recent years in defense of the cause.

Among other scheduled speakers are UH law professor Williamson Chang, Office of Hawaiian Affairs CEO Kamanaopono Crabbe and veteran sovereignty activist and attorney Mililani Trask.

As leader of Ka Lahui Hawaii, Trask was front and center in the 1993 Onipaa centennial, marking the day when Queen Lili‘uokalani was forced to yield her throne in a coup backed by U.S Marines.

Trask and her older sister, Haunani-Kay Trask, then director of the UH School of Hawaiian Studies, helped lead the march from Aloha Tower to Iolani Place.

Despite the somber occasion, said Mililani Trask, “It was a time of positive, uplifting and hopeful sentiment.”

Coverage by The Honolulu Advertiser described the event as being marked “by as much bitterness as warmth, and as much divisiveness as unity.”

The most incendiary remarks came from the elder Trask.

“I am not an American,” she declared from the palace bandstand. “We are not Americans. Say it in your heart. Say it in your sleep. We will never forget what the Americans have done to us — never, never, never. The Americans, my people, are our enemies.”

Waihee, the governor at the time, had ordered that the American flag not be flown in the palace area during the event, but Haunani-Kay Trask said Waihee didn’t go far enough.

“It should be burned to the ground,” she said.

And on a day when a representative of the United Church of Christ formally apologized for the complicity of the church’s missionary descendants in the overthrow, Trask urged the Hawaiians to spurn the church because it teaches Hawaiians to be compliant.

“Don’t make nice. Never make nice. … Fight. Fight. Fight.”

Later in the day the late Kinau Boyd Kamalii, OHA trustee, urged Hawaiians to reject the “politics of hate,” and then-U.S. Sen. Daniel Akaka called for unity and diversity that “must not bring divisiveness.”

“I am proud to be Hawaiian,” Kamalii said. “I am also proud to be an American.”

Then-OHA Chairman Clayton Hee told the crowd he would ask for state funding for a Native Hawaiian constitutional convention.

“We cannot wait for Congress,” he declared, almost prophetically, as Congress would fail to enact the Akaka Bill, which sought nation-within-a-nation status for Native Hawaiians.

No fights, no injuries

Despite the huge crowd that converged at Iolani Palace on Jan. 17, 1993, there were no incidents or arrests that day or over the course of the five-day event.

It’s unlikely a similarly sized crowd will be seen at the 125-year observance. For one, the 1993 centennial fell on a Sunday, while the 125th is on a Wednesday.

But shuttles are being planned to bring people from across the island, thanks in part to funding by OHA and Kamehameha Schools, and event organizer Trisha Kehaulani Watson said she expects thousands to show their support for the deposed queen and her memory.

“It’s a sad day for us, a hard day,” she said.

Instead of starting off at Aloha Tower, a “peace march” is scheduled to begin at 9 a.m. at the Mauna Ala royal mausoleum in Nuuanu Valley, where Lili‘uokalani is buried.

As the procession nears Iolani Palace, Watson said, there will be an attempt to re-create the Ed Greevy photo used for the cover of Haunani-Kay Trask’s book “From a Native Daughter: Colonialism and Sovereignty in Hawai‘i,” which was published later that year.

A similar image by veteran Honolulu Star-Advertiser photographer Bruce Asato — showing the march’s leaders, including the Trask sisters, pausing to allow elders to enter the palace grounds first — appeared on the front page of The Honolulu Advertiser.

What could prove to be the most moving highlight of this year’s event, according to organizers, will be the 10:45 p.m. raising of the Hawaiian flag above the palace at the same time of day it was taken down during the overthrow. The event is being planned by the Royal Order of Kamehameha.

The Capitol activities will begin at noon — two hours after the

29th state Legislature launches its 2018 regular session amid ceremony. The Onipaa Kakou observance will return to Iolani Palace from 1 to 6 p.m.

While the 1993 entertainment featured Israel Kamakawiwo‘ole and the Makaha Sons of Niihau, the 2018 headliners are Amy Hanaiali‘i and Keauhou.

Another event, called E Ola na Mele Lahui, will take place at the Hawaii Supreme Court on King Street at 6 p.m. Sponsored by the Judiciary History Center, the Hawaii State Bar Association Civic Education Committee and the Dolores Furtado Martin Foundation, the program will explore “Hawaiian political expression through mele and hula, linking new archival documents and newspaper articles on the overthrow to Hawaii’s legal history.”

Looking back at the Onipaa a quarter-century later, Mililani Trask said she was proud to have had a role in an event that not only honored the queen’s memory, but left a legacy of activism and thousands of new Native Hawaiian registered voters.

“There were 20,000 people, and we didn’t have a single injury or fight,” she said, noting that alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Trask said she plans to tell her audience this year to remember the overthrow but, at the same time, to celebrate their resiliency as a people and to continue the path forward.

Many other indigenous people, their cultures and languages have been driven to extinction, she said, but Hawaiians are not only still fighting for their rights and practicing their culture, but expanding in number.

“Despite the overthrow and the Apology Bill showing how illegal it was, our people haven’t given up. They haven’t resorted to violence like so many others,” she said. “We are still here. That is something to be proud of.”

Trask said there are so many more issues for Hawaiians to consider beyond self-governance, including the protection of sacred sites and resources, homelessness, poverty, drug violence and the impact of Honolulu’s rail project on Hawaiians, among others.

“Hawaiians can be a forceful voting block,” she said.