Majestic Hawaii, with its awe-inspiring landscapes and tranquil beaches, is now engulfed in unprecedented flames. The wildfires tearing through Maui Island aren’t just a tale of nature’s fury but a stark reminder of the historical scars left behind by colonialism.
The fires on Maui have already burned down 2,000 acres, leaving 55 souls departed, thousands without power, and more than 11,000 people frantically searching for safety. Considering that Hawaii isn’t naturally inclined to bounce back post-wildfires, these numbers don’t just signal loss but a daunting future.
Climate change, intensified by hurricanes like Dora that borrowed strength from warmer airs, plays a significant part in this disaster. Yet, there’s an even more sinister antagonist lurking in the shadows: invasive grass species.
Going back to the 19th century, settlers brought these non-native grasses like guinea grass to Hawaii. In doing so, they turned their backs on indigenous resource management practices, paving the way for large-scale ranching and businesses like the Dole Pineapple Company. As these plantations met their end, the invasive grasses sprawled unchecked across the land. Specialist Clay Trauernicht articulates this predicament, stating that the rise in Hawaiian wildfires since the ’90s can be largely attributed to these vast, neglected grasslands.
But why did these invasive grasses grow so freely? Large-scale monocropping played a part, in deteriorating native ecosystems and making way for plants that fan the flames of wildfires. Whereas native Hawaiian plants? They’ve been our unlikely heroes, guarding against these blazing terrors.
However, it’s essential to dig deeper. Behind these flames lies the grim specter of colonialism. As Kaniela Ing, an advocate for ecological and societal balance, points out, the unchecked ambition of developers and land speculators wreaked havoc on the Hawaiian landscape, making wildfires even more deadly. The International Panel on Climate Change’s (IPCC) latest findings further underline this, highlighting how colonialism has not just changed lands, but has catalyzed climate disasters.
The profound impact of such colonial ventures extends far beyond the environment. It erodes the very foundation of indigenous societies and cultures. The blazing fires have devastated Lahaina, a cornerstone of Hawaiian history and culture. As Ing reminds us, this isn’t just about lost landscapes. It’s about lost legacies, histories, and homes of the Kānaka Maoli, Hawaii’s native community.
In the smoky haze of Maui’s fires, we see not just the present catastrophe, but the age-old repercussions of decisions made without foresight, respect, or understanding. And as we rebuild and heal, perhaps it’s also time to reflect and re-educate ourselves on the interconnectedness of our actions, past and present.
