Indigenous Hawaiian’s Take on Monsanto and GMOs 15th April

At 9 am on an over­cast morn­ing in par­adise, hun­dreds of pro­test­ers gath­ered in tra­di­tion­al Hawai­ian chant and prayer. Upon hear­ing the sound of the conch shell, known here as , the pro­test­ers fol­lowed a group of women towards Monsanto’s grounds.

A’ole GMO,” cried the moth­ers as they marched along­side Monsanto’s corn­fields, locat­ed only feet from their homes on Molokai, one of the small­est of Hawaii’s main islands. In a tiny, trop­i­cal cor­ner of the Pacif­ic that has ward­ed off tourism and devel­op­ment, Monsanto’s fields are one of only a few cor­po­rate enti­ties that sep­a­rates the bare ter­rain of the moun­tains and oceans.

This spir­it­ed march was the last of a series of protests on the five Hawai­ian islands that Mon­san­to and oth­er biotech com­pa­nies have turned into the world’s ground zero for chem­i­cal test­ing and food engi­neer­ing. Hawaii is cur­rent­ly at the epi­cen­ter of the debate over genet­i­cal­ly mod­i­fied organ­isms, gen­er­al­ly short­ened to GMOs. Because Hawaii is geo­graph­i­cal­ly iso­lat­ed from the broad­er pub­lic, it is an ide­al loca­tion for con­duct­ing chem­i­cal exper­i­ments. The island chain’s cli­mate and abun­dant nat­ur­al resources have lured five of the world’s largest biotech chem­i­cal cor­po­ra­tions: Mon­san­to, Syn­gen­ta, Dow Agro­Sciences, DuPont Pio­neer and BASF. In the past 20 years, these chem­i­cal com­pa­nies have per­formed over 5,000 open-field-test exper­i­ments of pes­ti­cide-resis­tant crops on an esti­mat­ed 40,000 to 60,000 acres of Hawai­ian land with­out any dis­clo­sure, mak­ing the place and its peo­ple a guinea pig for biotech engi­neer­ing.

The pres­ence of these cor­po­ra­tions has pro­pelled one of the largest move­ment mobi­liza­tions in Hawaii in decades. Sim­i­lar to the envi­ron­men­tal and land sov­er­eign­ty protests in Cana­da and the con­ti­nen­tal Unit­ed States, the move­ment is influ­enced by indige­nous cul­ture.

“All of the resources that our kapuna [elders] gave to us, we need to take care of now for the next gen­er­a­tion,” said Wal­ter Ritte, a Hawaii activist, speak­ing in part in the Hawai­ian indige­nous lan­guage.

“That is our kuleana [respon­si­bil­i­ty]. That is everybody’s kuleana.”

In Hawai­ian indige­nous cul­ture, the very idea of GMOs is effec­tive­ly sac­ri­le­gious.

“For Hawaii’s indige­nous peo­ples, the con­cepts under­ly­ing genet­ic manip­u­la­tion of life forms are offen­sive and con­trary to the cul­tur­al val­ues of alo­ha ‘āina [love for the land],” wrote Mililani B. Trask, a native Hawai­ian attor­ney.

Deadly practices

Mon­san­to has a long his­to­ry of mak­ing chem­i­cals that bring about dev­as­ta­tion. The com­pa­ny par­tic­i­pat­ed in the Man­hat­tan Project to help pro­duce the atom­ic bomb dur­ing World War II. It devel­oped the her­bi­cide “Agent Orange” used by U.S. mil­i­tary forces dur­ing the Viet­nam War, which caused an esti­mat­ed half-mil­lion birth defor­mi­ties. Most recent­ly, Mon­san­to has dri­ven thou­sands of farm­ers in India to take their own lives, often by drink­ing chem­i­cal insec­ti­cide, after the high cost of the company’s seeds forced them into unpayable debt.

The impacts of chem­i­cal test­ing and GMOs are imme­di­ate — and, in the long-term, could prove dead­ly. In Hawaii, Mon­san­to and oth­er biotech cor­po­ra­tions have sprayed over 70 dif­fer­ent chem­i­cals dur­ing field tests of genet­i­cal­ly engi­neered crops, more chem­i­cal test­ing than in any oth­er place in the world. Human stud­ies have not been con­duct­ed on GMO foods, but ani­mal exper­i­ments show that genet­i­cal­ly mod­i­fied foods lead to pre-can­cer­ous cell growth, infer­til­i­ty, and severe dam­age to the kid­neys, liv­er and large intestines. Addi­tion­al­ly, the health risks of chem­i­cal her­bi­cides sprayed onto GMO crops cause hor­mone dis­rup­tion, can­cer, neu­ro­log­i­cal dis­or­ders and birth defects. In Hawaii, some open-field test­ing sites are near homes and schools. Pre­ma­tu­ri­ty, adult on-set dia­betes and can­cer rates have sig­nif­i­cant­ly increased in Hawaii in the last ten years. Many res­i­dents fear chem­i­cal drift is poi­son­ing them.

Monsanto’s agri­cul­tur­al pro­ce­dures also enable the prac­tice of monocrop­ping, which con­tributes to envi­ron­men­tal degra­da­tion, espe­cial­ly on an island like Hawaii. Monocrop­ping is an agri­cul­tur­al prac­tice where one crop is repeat­ed­ly plant­ed in the same spot, a sys­tem that strips the soil of its nutri­ents and dri­ves farm­ers to use a her­bi­cide called Roundup, which is linked to infer­til­i­ty. Farm­ers are also forced to use pes­ti­cides and fer­til­iz­ers that cause cli­mate change and reef dam­age, and that decrease the bio­di­ver­si­ty of Hawaii.

Food sovereignty as resistance

At the first of the series of march­es against GMOs, orga­niz­ers plant­ed coconut trees in Halei­wa, a com­mu­ni­ty on the north shore of Oahu Island. In the move­ment, protest­ing and act­ing as care­tak­ers of the land are no longer viewed as sep­a­rate actions, par­tic­u­lar­ly in a region where Mon­san­to is leas­ing more than 1,000 acres of prime agri­cul­tur­al soil.

Dur­ing the march, peo­ple chant­ed and held signs declar­ing, “Alo­ha ‘āina: De-occu­py Hawaii.”

The phrase Alo­ha ‘āina is reg­u­lar­ly seen and heard at anti-GMO protests. Today the words are defined as “love of the land,” but the phrase has also sig­ni­fied “love for the coun­try.” His­tor­i­cal­ly, it was com­mon­ly used by indi­vid­u­als and groups fight­ing for the restora­tion of the inde­pen­dent Hawai­ian nation, and it is now fre­quent­ly deployed at anti-GMO protests when peo­ple speak of Hawai­ian sov­er­eign­ty and inde­pen­dence.

After the protest, marchers gath­ered in Halei­wa Beach Park, where they per­formed speech­es, music, spo­ken-word poet­ry and dance while shar­ing free local­ly grown food. The strat­e­gy of con­nect­ing with the land was also a fea­ture of the sub­se­quent protest on the Big Island, where peo­ple plant­ed taro before the march, and also at the state capi­tol ral­ly, where hun­dreds par­tic­i­pat­ed in the tra­di­tion­al process of pound­ing taro to make poi, a Poly­ne­sian sta­ple food.

The import econ­o­my is a new real­i­ty for Hawaii, one direct­ly tied to the impo­si­tion of mod­ern food prac­tices on the island. Ancient Hawaii oper­at­ed with­in the Ahupua’a sys­tem, a com­mu­nal mod­el of dis­trib­ut­ing land and work, which allowed the islands to be entire­ly self-suf­fi­cient.

“Pri­vate land own­er­ship was unknown, and pub­lic, com­mon use of the ahupua’a resources demand­ed that bound­aries be drawn to include suf­fi­cient land for res­i­dence and cul­ti­va­tion, fresh­wa­ter sources, shore­line and open ocean access,” explained Car­ol Sil­va, an his­to­ri­an and Hawai­ian lan­guage pro­fes­sor.

Inspired by the Ahupua’a mod­el, the food sov­er­eign­ty move­ment is build­ing an organ­ic local sys­tem that fos­ters the con­nec­tions between com­mu­ni­ties and their food — a way of resist­ing GMOs while simul­ta­ne­ous­ly cre­at­ing alter­na­tives.

Colonial history

The decline of the Ahupua’a sys­tem didn’t only set Hawaii on the path away from food sov­er­eign­ty; it also destroyed the polit­i­cal inde­pen­dence of the now‑U.S. state. And indeed, when pro­test­ers chant “Alo­ha ‘āina” at anti-GMO march­es, they are allud­ing to the fact that this fight isn’t only over com­pet­ing visions of land use and food cre­ation. It’s also a bat­tle for the islands’ polit­i­cal sov­er­eign­ty.

His­tor­i­cal­ly, for­eign cor­po­rate inter­ests have repeat­ed­ly tak­en con­trol of Hawaii — and have exploit­ed and mis­treat­ed the land and its peo­ple in the process.

“It’s a sys­temic prob­lem and the GMO issue just hap­pens to be at the fore­front of pub­lic debate at the moment,” said Keoni Lee of ‘Ōiwi TV. “‘Āina” [land] equals that which pro­vides. Pro­vides for who?”

The pres­ence of Mon­san­to and the oth­er chem­i­cal cor­po­ra­tions is eeri­ly rem­i­nis­cent of the busi­ness inter­ests that led to the over­throw of the Hawai­ian King­dom. Through­out the 19th cen­tu­ry, the Hawai­ian King­dom was rec­og­nized as an inde­pen­dent nation. That real­i­ty changed in 1893, when a group of Amer­i­can busi­ness­men and sug­ar planters orches­trat­ed a U.S. Marine’s armed coup d’etat of the Hawai­ian King­dom gov­ern­ment.

Five years lat­er, the U.S. appre­hend­ed the islands for strate­gic mil­i­tary use dur­ing the Span­ish-Amer­i­can War despite local resis­tance. Even then-Pres­i­dent Grover Cleve­land called the over­throw a “sub­stan­tial wrong” and vowed to restore the Hawai­ian king­dom. But the eco­nom­ic inter­ests over­pow­ered the polit­i­cal will, and Hawaii remained a U.S. colony for the fol­low­ing 60 years.

The annex­a­tion of Hawaii prof­it­ed five sug­ar­cane-man­u­fac­tur­ing com­pa­nies com­mon­ly referred to as the Big Five: Alexan­der & Bald­win, Amfac (Amer­i­can Fac­tors), Cas­tle & Cooke, C. Brew­er, and Theo H. Davies. Most of the founders of these com­pa­nies were mis­sion­ar­ies who were active­ly involved in lob­by­ing for the annex­a­tion of the Hawai­ian islands in 1898. After the takeover, the Big Five manip­u­lat­ed great polit­i­cal pow­er and influ­ence in what was then con­sid­ered the “Ter­ri­to­ry of Hawaii,” gain­ing unpar­al­leled con­trol of bank­ing, ship­ping and import­ing on the island chain. The com­pa­nies only spon­sored white repub­li­cans in gov­ern­ment, cre­at­ing an oli­garchy that threat­ened the labor force if it vot­ed against their inter­ests. The com­pa­nies’ envi­ron­men­tal prac­tices, mean­while, caused air and water pol­lu­tion and altered the bio­di­ver­si­ty of the land.

The cur­rent pres­ence of the five-biotech chem­i­cal cor­po­ra­tions in Hawaii mir­rors the polit­i­cal and eco­nom­ic colo­nial­ism of the Big Five in the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry — par­tic­u­lar­ly because Mon­san­to has become the largest employ­er on Molokai.

“There is no dif­fer­ence between the “Big Five” that actu­al­ly ruled Hawaii in the past,” said Wal­ter Ritte. “Now it’s anoth­er “Big Five,” and they’re all chem­i­cal com­pa­nies. So it’s almost like this is the same thing. It’s like déjàvu.”

Rising up

At the open­ing of this year’s leg­isla­tive ses­sion on Jan­u­ary 16, hun­dreds of farm­ers, stu­dents and res­i­dents marched to the state capi­tol for a ral­ly titled “Idle No More: We the Peo­ple.” There, agri­cul­tur­al spe­cial­ist and food sov­er­eign­ty activist Van­dana Shi­va, who trav­eled from India to Hawaii for the event, addressed the crowd.

“I see Hawaii not as a place where I come and peo­ple say, ‘Mon­san­to is the biggest employ­er,’ but peo­ple say, ‘this land, its bio­di­ver­si­ty, our cul­tur­al her­itage is our biggest employ­er,’” she said.

As she allud­ed to, a major obsta­cle fac­ing the anti-GMO move­ment is the per­cep­tion that the chem­i­cal cor­po­ra­tions pro­vide jobs that oth­er­wise might not exist — an eco­nom­ic specter that the sug­ar­cane com­pa­nies also wield­ed to their advan­tage. Anti-GMO orga­niz­ers are aware of how entrenched this pow­er is.