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Robert Alexander Anderson (R. "Alex" Anderson) was a prolific Hawaiʻi composer known for "Haole Hula," "Lovely Hula Hands," and holiday classic, "Mele Kalikimaka." He attended Punahou and, later, Cornell University, where he received a degree in mechanical engineering.
Anderson enlisted in the Army during World War I, and eventually made his way onto the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps. He was training with Americans and the British Royal Air Force when, one day, he found himself facing off against five German Fokker planes. "I was so busy dodging these guys that I was constantly losing altitude and finally was just above the ground...with room enough to come down and make a pancake landing," Anderson told Warren Nishimoto, director of UH's Center for Oral History. "Before I could get out of the plane, I was surrounded by German soldiers." Anderson was placed on a train to Belgium and, eventually, sent to a permanent prison camp. "Two Americans who were there ahead of me had found some loose tiles in the roof above the room where they were confined, and said they were going to make an escape," Anderson recounted. "We all climbed through the hole in the roof, and hung by the eaves, and dropped to the ground outside the compound." The group of escapees fled to Holland, relying on local farmers for food and assistance. "I was the only linguist," Anderson said, half-joking, "I had Punahou French and German. And I became pretty good at that when I talked to these fellows." Anderson wove his experiences into a series of installments for McClure's magazine, after reaching safe haven. Those writings became the basis for the 1930 film "The Dawn Patrol," starring Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (later remade with Errol Flynn, Basil Rathbone, and David Niven in 1938). Following the war, Anderson worked in Chicago for Westinghouse; then returned to Honolulu, where his passion for music and connections in entertainment gave way to the tunes we know today. He was inducted into the Hawaiian Music Hall of Fame in 1998. Native Hawaiians are the only federally recognized native people without a government-to-government relationship with the United States. This, in part, is by the will of Native Hawaiian activists; but the federal recognition of Native Hawaiians poses a logistical challenge as well.
First, simply, there are 680,442 Native Hawaiians in the U.S., according to the last Census. Native Hawaiians organized under a single governing entity would constitute the largest tribe in the U.S., with more than half of its members residing outside of Hawaiʻi. Second, a Gordian knot of complication, is the challenge of defining Native Hawaiian indigeneity. The Hawaiian Homes Commission Act of 1921 (HHCA) created a land trust for the homesteading of Native Hawaiians on ceded lands from the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi. The act included a blood quantum definition, outlining Native Hawaiians as persons with 50% or more Hawaiian blood (a difficult threshold to meet, let alone substantiate in records lost to denationalization). The federal government oversaw the administration of the land trust, but that responsibility passed onto the state of Hawaiʻi after statehood, and it is now overseen by the Department of Hawaiian Home Lands (DHHL), with a portion of ceded lands managed by the Office of Hawaiian Affairs (OHA). Many people in federal corridors point to OHA as the likely governing entity of a prospective Native Hawaiian tribe, due to its longstanding, state-recognized partnership and bestowed authority. At its founding, OHA was governed by an elected board of trustees who were of Native Hawaiian ancestry (qualified voters also had to be of Native Hawaiian descent). But a lawsuit in 2000 accused OHA of violating the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments in its race-based provision, and a Supreme Court ruling allowed for non-Hawaiians to vote and be elected to serve on the board. The ruling means that any Native Hawaiian tribal group helmed by OHA could include members who are not descendants of aboriginal Hawaiians (making determinations of indigeneity). Hawaiʻi Sen. Daniel Akaka proposed a bill, which has taken various forms since 2000, that attempted to create a semi-sovereign Native Hawaiian tribal group. In one configuration, the bill would create a nine-member commission appointed by the Secretary of the Interior to make determinations of indigeneity, but this commission, too, would allow for non-Hawaiian membership. In 2014, the Department of Interior held a series of hearings to begin an administrative procedure to allow for federal recognition; with a final rule creating a framework for recognition drafted in 2016. Native Hawaiians have been unable to agree on a path forward. In 2022, the Interior Department announced it would seek input from community leaders over a new consultation policy to put Native Hawaiians on a path to recognition. “Fulfilling the Federal trust responsibility to our Indigenous nations isn’t simply a matter of goodwill. It is a matter of justice, of promises kept,” said Sen. Daniel Akaka in March 2011, discussing a bill he sent before Congress to establish the process for tribal status. “The Kingdom of Hawaii was never a tribe,” Francis Moku Malani, Jr. testified in a hearing before the Department of Interior, “We are a sovereign nation.” The Kingdom of Hawaiʻi continues to exist today. That is an assertion by Dr. Keanu Sai, a controversial scholar whose work intersects with the sovereignty movement, though he’s quick to distance himself from what he calls a “political movement.”
Sai argues that the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi maintained its sovereignty following the 1893 overthrow of Queen Liliʻuokalani, citing international law governing states at war. He contends that the United States should have established a military government to administer the laws of Hawaiʻi, the occupied state, following the overthrow. The U.S. was beholden to administer those laws through the brokering of a treaty of peace. (This was the case in Japan following World War II and Iraq following the ousting of Saddam Hussein.) The Kingdom of Hawaiʻi never entered into a treaty with the U.S. to cede territory or transfer sovereignty. Annexation was passed by joint resolution; and statehood passed without consideration of commonwealth status or independence. Hawaiʻi, Sai argues, is under illegal military occupation under international law, remedied by de-occupation. Further, he claims, the U.S. committed war crimes (usurpation of sovereignty and denationalization) in its 131-year occupation. Watch more September marks Hawaiian History Month, a month-long event, started in 2020, to honor the legacy of Queen Liliʻuokalani and celebrate the cultural heritage of Native Hawaiians. September also marks the start of Hispanic Heritage Month, which gives us an opportunity to highlight our rich, cross-cultural connections. Francisco de Paula Marín was a Spanish immigrant who arrived in Hawaiʻi in the late 1700s and, later, became an advisor to King Kamehameha I. Marín is credited with cultivating much of the non-native crops that are now identified with the islands, including coffee, mango, guava, and pineapple. Cattle arrived in Hawaiʻi in the late 1700s as well, when British Captain George Vancouver gifted six cows and a bull to King Kamehameha I. By 1812, wild cattle roamed mountain slopes and ranching began in earnest. Kamehameha III invited a number of Mexican vaqueros to teach his people how to rope, slaughter, and breed cattle. They also taught riding and roping techniques; and thus the paniolo, Hawaiian cowboy, was born. Paniolos crafted their own style of saddle and gear, and influenced Hawaiian music; but they reached world class recognition in 1908, when three Hawaiians took honors in Frontier Days, the world rodeo steer-roping championship. Cattle and sugarcane crops boomed around the turn of the 20th century, and with it the need for more plantation workers. Hawaii saw an influx in migration, with workers coming from Puerto Rico and Portugal. Portuguese migrants introduced the ʻukulele to Hawaiʻi, which has had an outsized impact on Hawaiian music, language, and dance. Today, about 11% of Hawaiʻi's population identifies as Hispanic and it is one of the fastest-growing demographics in the state, increasing more than 80% since 2000, according to Census data. Hispanics and Latinos are drawn to Hawaii for a variety of reasons. Many fill vacancies left in the hospitality sector, as more Hawaiʻi residents move to the continent. Some are drawn by military employment. About 38% of the populace work in management, business, science, and art-related occupations.  At the end of World War II, Hawaiʻi was placed by the UN General Assembly under U.S. administration as a non-self-governing territory. This meant the U.S. was responsible for fulfilling certain obligations, including stewardship of inhabitants and assistance with Hawaiʻi's pursuit of self-governance. In June 1959, Hawaiʻi residents voted over the issue of self-government, vetting two options: statehood or status quo. Residents were not given the option for independence nor commonwealth status, as was required under the UN charter. As a result, Hawaiʻi overwhelmingly supported statehood, with fewer than 8,000 votes cast against the issue (of 140,000 votes total).
"In the most important election ever held in Hawaiʻi, only 35% of those of eligible age actually registered and turned up at the polls. Sixty-five percent 'voted with their feet' against statehood by staying home," Kioni Dudley, Leon Siu, and Poka Laenui write. Most Kānaka Maoli don't celebrate Hawaiʻi Statehood Day (held August 16 this year), and see the holiday as an extension of colonial trauma.  July 31 marks Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea, Sovereignty Restoration Day, in the state of Hawaiʻi. Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea celebrates the restoration of sovereignty to the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi on July 31, 1843, after a five-month-long illegal seizure and occupation by rogue agents of the British government.
A national holiday, the kingdom's first, was established by King Kamehameha III following recognition of sovereignty, upon which he proclaimed, "Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono" ("the sovereignty of the kingdom continues because we are righteous"). The phrase would become Hawaiʻi's official state motto (commonly translated as "the life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness"). In 1985, Dr. Kekuni Blaisdell reestablished Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea as a community event and vehicle to reclaim and restore Hawaiian independence. Rep. Mark Nakashima introduced a bill in 2022 to commemorate Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea as a special day of observance in the state; and then-Gov. David Ige held a commemorative bill presentation marking the bill's passage later that year. "I believe that by writing this historic day into modern law it will serve as an ever-present and enduring opportunity for Hawaiians and the rest of the people of Hawaiʻi to learn of the Hawaiian past and make personal connections with each other in the process," Nakashima said. Public events commemorating Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea are free and organized by "teachers, students, activists, farmers, artists, scholars, entrepreneurs, and families who have dedicated years to this celebration," according to the group that organizes the monthlong celebration. Click the image for more.  After the arrival of missionaries in the 1800s, many Native Hawaiian cultural practices were banned, including traditions and moʻolelo tied to māhū.
Māhū are individuals who possess elements of male and female in mind, heart, and spirit. They were respected as caretakers, healers, and teachers of ancient traditions. As māhū became marginalized following western contact, the meaning of the word was reshaped by western constructs. Māhū was used to describe a range of gender identities and sexualities housed under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella. By the 1960s, individuals who identified as māhū couldn’t walk the street without fear of violence. They were targeted with heavy fines and faced jail time under the “intent to deceive” law. “Hearing the phrase ‘kill a māhū’ was not uncommon,” filmmaker Connie Florez said. Some māhū and others in the queer community found sanctuary in The Glade Show Lounge, a celebrated nightclub in the red light district of Honolulu’s Chinatown. “The Glades” was popular with locals, tourists, film and TV crews, and military personnel for its "Boys Will Be Girls Revue," which featured “female impersonators,” who performed burlesque shows multiple times a week. “I walked in that club when I was 17 years old. The energy, it was like we were in our own little world…because when we went outside of the club, it was different,” performer Jerrine Madayag said. Outside the club, performers were forced to wear “I am a boy” or “I am a man” buttons in compliance with the law (repealed in 1972). “We’ve come a long ways from what we had before.” Still the fight for māhū visibility and proper representation continues. “It’s not good enough anymore as a 21st century Native Hawaiian Queer that I, as a Native Hawaiian, was here, that I exist," Kaumakaiwa Kanakaʻole, a prominent hula practitioner, said. “It also matters to me that the part of me who is māhū also has a lineage equally as profound and equally as deep and meaningful.”  The Academy of Hawaiian Arts sparked controversy, accusations of bias, and speculation over competition production following its 2024 Merrie Monarch performance. The hālau, from Oakland, California, was the only group based in the Hawaiian diaspora to compete at this year's event. At the center of conversation was AHA's wahine kahiko offering, a thunderous and technically challenging display that became an immediate fan favorite across social media. The hālau was shutout from award across every category in which it competed, leading to massive outcry online. Many kumu hula came out in the days following competition to defend judges and festival organizers, claiming the intent of Merrie Monarch was to honor the hard-fought traditions of hula and continue its preservation and cultural legacy. Click the image to watch.
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