The juxtaposition of Puerto Rico and Hawaii has always struck me as fascinating. These two territories, often seen as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to imperialism, evoke both hope and caution. Some Puerto Ricans who support statehood view Hawaii as a model for their future: a successful example of annexation, full citizenship, political representation, and the promise of American prosperity. Others, however, see it as a warning of the perils of assimilation, cultural erasure, and an economy driven by escapist fantasies.
Watching the aftermath of the recent fires in Maui, I was struck by the blurred lines between these two territories. Shared histories and vulnerabilities emerged, creating a sense of déjà vu. I couldn’t help but be haunted by news of essential infrastructure crumbling when it was most needed and residents left to fend for themselves without government aid. Most troubling of all was the fear that recovery efforts would only lead to displacement and dispossession.
If you search for the cause of the fires in Maui, you’ll find no clear answer. Articles point to outdated power lines, nonnative grasses, a failing water system, and a combination of weather and climate-driven factors. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change acknowledges that the climate crisis is rooted in the exploitation and degradation of the environment, people, and cultures – all of which were integral to colonialism. Colonial settlers prioritized immediate resource gains over long-term ecological health, dismissing Indigenous land management practices as outdated obstacles to progress.
To truly understand these fires, we must go back to the 19th century when Christian missionaries transformed Maui’s wetlands into sprawling sugar plantations. These plantations required the construction of tunnels and reservoirs to divert water to mills, leaving native Hawaiians with insufficient water for their own agriculture. Dominated by American investors, the sugar and pineapple industries led to deforestation and ecological imbalance.
After the decline of the sugar boom, the land was further exploited for tourism, exacerbating water shortages and creating a local economy that catered to temporary visitors rather than long-term residents. This combination of imperial legacies created a volatile situation, ready to ignite.
Just as a neglected house is more susceptible to weather damage, lands mismanaged and exploited through colonialism are now at increased risk of disaster. The residents of Puerto Rico and Maui are not only vulnerable to natural disasters but also to predatory land grabs in the aftermath of these catastrophes.
President Biden has pledged to guide the rebuilding process in West Maui with cultural sensitivity, recognizing the need to respect the wishes of the community. However, true change requires more than just gestures and words. It requires a vision of reconstruction that addresses historical injustices.
Like Puerto Ricans, the people of Hawaii do not ask to be saved. They simply want the opportunity to help themselves in the face of failing emergency services and inadequate federal aid. But the deep-rooted vulnerabilities inherited from colonialism are not easily overcome. Some residents are urging tourists to stay away while the community recovers, but others cannot afford to do so. This dependency on the pleasure of others is a consequence of an economy built on tourism.
Maui residents who were already grappling with unaffordable housing and limited career prospects beyond the hospitality industry will likely experience the same pressures to migrate that Puerto Ricans faced after Hurricane Maria. This situation will only worsen if weeks turn into months of bureaucratic obstacles and lack of federal aid. After Hurricane Maria, only a fraction of FEMA applicants received any assistance, leaving many without proper support.
The challenge of repairing damaged homes without adequate support, along with persistent power outages, failing infrastructure, and a struggling healthcare system, has made it increasingly difficult for Puerto Ricans to stay rooted in their communities. The influx of digital nomads, tax-evading millionaires, and the booming Airbnb market further push residents out of their own neighborhoods.
While the State of Hawaii promises to protect locals from land speculators, if emergency management bureaucracy fails, those with temporary accommodations or relying on the goodwill of family members will have few options other than to sell their land. Opportunistic profiteering often follows emergencies, but it’s important to recognize that these grabs for resources and power deepen existing fault lines of imperial exploitation.
The U.S. government has admitted and apologized for the illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian government, but it has yet to rectify the harms caused or address the enduring imperial legacies. In the case of Puerto Rico, the U.S. government has never acknowledged any wrongdoing, despite denying residents full citizenship or sovereignty.
Creating a sustainable future for both Puerto Rico and Hawaii in the aftermath of disasters requires more than temporary solutions and quick fixes. It necessitates a reckoning with the entrenched systems of inequality that laid the groundwork for these tragedies in the first place. A just recovery cannot be about returning to a state of vulnerability, nor can it be about rebuilding without questioning who benefits from the process.
Denial of responsibility! VigourTimes is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
