Haoles in Hawai‘i strives to make sense of haole (white person/whiteness in Hawai‘i) and "the politics of haole" in current debates about race in Hawai‘i. Recognizing it as a form of American whiteness specific to Hawai‘i, the author argues that haole was forged and reforged over two centuries of colonization and needs to be understood in that context. Haole reminds us that race is about more than skin color as it identifies a certain amalgamation of attitude and behavior that is at odds with Hawaiian and local values and social norms. By situating haole historically and politically, the author asks readers to think about ongoing processes of colonization and possibilities for reformulating the meaning of haole. For more information on Haoles in Hawaii, visit http://haolesinhawaii.blogspot.com/

Elegant, brutal, and profound—this magnificent debut captures the grit and glory of modern Hawai'i with breathtaking force and accuracy. In a stunning collection that announces the arrival of an incredible talent, Kristiana Kahakauwila travels the islands of Hawai'i, making the fabled place her own. Exploring the deep tensions between local and tourist, tradition and expectation, façade and authentic self, This Is Paradise provides an unforgettable portrait of life as it’s truly being lived on Maui, Oahu, Kaua'i and the Big Island. In the gut-punch of “Wanle,” a beautiful and tough young woman wants nothing more than to follow in her father’s footsteps as a legendary cockfighter. With striking versatility, the title story employs a chorus of voices—the women of Waikiki—to tell the tale of a young tourist drawn to the darker side of the city’s nightlife. “The Old Paniolo Way” limns the difficult nature of legacy and inheritance when a patriarch tries to settle the affairs of his farm before his death. Exquisitely written and bursting with sharply observed detail, Kahakauwila’s stories remind us of the powerful desire to belong, to put down roots, and to have a place to call home.

Surfing has been a significant sport and cultural practice in Hawai‘i for more than 1,500 years. In the last century, facing increased marginalization on land, many Native Hawaiians have found refuge, autonomy, and identity in the waves. In Waves of Resistance Isaiah Walker argues that throughout the twentieth century Hawaiian surfers have successfully resisted colonial encroachment in the po‘ina nalu (surf zone). The struggle against foreign domination of the waves goes back to the early 1900s, shortly after the overthrow of the Hawaiian kingdom, when proponents of this political seizure helped establish the Outrigger Canoe Club—a haoles (whites)-only surfing organization in Waikiki. A group of Hawaiian surfers, led by Duke Kahanamoku, united under Hui Nalu to compete openly against their Outrigger rivals and established their authority in the surf. Drawing from Hawaiian language newspapers and oral history interviews, Walker’s history of the struggle for the po‘ina nalu revises previous surf history accounts and unveils the relationship between surfing and colonialism in Hawai‘i. This work begins with a brief look at surfing in ancient Hawai‘i before moving on to chapters detailing Hui Nalu and other Waikiki surfers of the early twentieth century (including Prince Jonah Kuhio), the 1960s radical antidevelopment group Save Our Surf, professional Hawaiian surfers like Eddie Aikau, whose success helped inspire a newfound pride in Hawaiian cultural identity, and finally the North Shore’s Hui O He‘e Nalu, formed in 1976 in response to the burgeoning professional surfing industry that threatened to exclude local surfers from their own beaches. Walker also examines how Hawaiian surfers have been empowered by their defiance of haole ideas of how Hawaiian males should behave. For example, Hui Nalu surfers successfully combated annexationists, married white women, ran lucrative businesses, and dictated what non-Hawaiians could and could not do in their surf—even as the popular, tourist-driven media portrayed Hawaiian men as harmless and effeminate. Decades later, the media were labeling Hawaiian surfers as violent extremists who terrorized haole surfers on the North Shore. Yet Hawaiians contested, rewrote, or creatively negotiated with these stereotypes in the waves. The po‘ina nalu became a place where resistance proved historically meaningful and where colonial hierarchies and categories could be transposed. 25 illus.

This work attempts to make sense of haole (Hawaiian for 'white person') and 'the politics of haole' in current debates about race in Hawai'i. Recognizing it as a form of American whiteness specific to Hawai'i, the author argues that haole was forged and reforged over two centuries of colonization and needs to be understood in that context.

This volume is the most detailed case study of land tenure in Hawai‘i. Focusing on kuleana (homestead land) in Kahana, O‘ahu, from 1846 to 1920, the author challenges commonly held views concerning the Great Māhele (Division) of 1846–1855 and its aftermath. There can be no argument that in the fifty years prior to the 1893 overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy, ninety percent of all land in the Islands passed into the control or ownership of non-Hawaiians. This land grab is often thought to have begun with the Great Māhele and to have been quickly accomplished because of Hawaiians’ ignorance of Western law and the sharp practices of Haole (white) capitalists. What the Great Māhele did create were separate land titles for two types of land (kuleana and ahupua‘a) that were traditionally thought of as indivisible and interconnected, thus undermining an entire social system. With the introduction of land titles and ownership, Hawaiian land could now be bought, sold, mortgaged, and foreclosed. Using land-tenure documents recently made available in the Hawai‘i State Archives’ Foster Collection, the author presents the most complete picture of land transfer to date. The Kahana database reveals that after the 1846 division, large-scale losses did not occur until a hitherto forgotten mortgage and foreclosure law was passed in 1874. Hawaiians fought to keep their land and livelihoods, using legal and other, more innovative, means, including the creation of hui shares. Contrary to popular belief, many of the investors and speculators who benefited from the sale of absentee-owned lands awarded to ali‘i (rulers) were not Haole but Pākē (Chinese). Kahana: How the Land Was Lost explains how Hawaiians of a century ago were divested of their land—and how the past continues to shape the Island’s present as Hawaiians today debate the structure of land-claim settlements.

Available for the first time in English, this is the definitive account of the practice of sexual slavery the Japanese military perpetrated during World War II by the researcher principally responsible for exposing the Japanese government's responsibility for these atrocities. The large scale imprisonment and rape of thousands of women, who were euphemistically called "comfort women" by the Japanese military, first seized public attention in 1991 when three Korean women filed suit in a Toyko District Court stating that they had been forced into sexual servitude and demanding compensation. Since then the comfort stations and their significance have been the subject of ongoing debate and intense activism in Japan, much if it inspired by Yoshimi's investigations. How large a role did the military, and by extension the government, play in setting up and administering these camps? What type of compensation, if any, are the victimized women due? These issues figure prominently in the current Japanese focus on public memory and arguments about the teaching and writing of history and are central to efforts to transform Japanese ways of remembering the war. Yoshimi Yoshiaki provides a wealth of documentation and testimony to prove the existence of some 2,000 centers where as many as 200,000 Korean, Filipina, Taiwanese, Indonesian, Burmese, Dutch, Australian, and some Japanese women were restrained for months and forced to engage in sexual activity with Japanese military personnel. Many of the women were teenagers, some as young as fourteen. To date, the Japanese government has neither admitted responsibility for creating the comfort station system nor given compensation directly to former comfort women. This English edition updates the Japanese edition originally published in 1995 and includes introductions by both the author and the translator placing the story in context for American readers.

Last Among Equals is the first detailed account of Hawaii's quest for statehood. It is a story of struggle and accommodation, of how Hawaii was gradually absorbed into the politcal, economic, and ideological structures of American life. It also recounts the complex process that came into play when the states of the Union were confronted with the difficulty of granting admission to a non-contiguous territory with an overwhelmingly non-Caucasian population. More than any previous study of modern Hawaii, this book explains why Hawaii's legitimate claims to equality and autonomy as a state were frustrated for more than half a century. Last Among Equals is sure to remain a standard reference for modern Hawaiian and American political historians. As important, it will require a reevaluation of two commonly held myths: that of racial harmony in Hawaii and that of automatic equality under the Constitution of the United States.