The Creation of Inequality: How Our Prehistoric Ancestors Set the Stage for Monarchy, Slavery, and Empire (54 page)

The Nature of Hawai’ian Inequality

By the eighteenth century, as Goldman points out, society on the Big Island of Hawai’i was well prepared for the transition from chiefdom to kingdom. It had converted a continuum of rank into two de facto classes. By declaring all garden land the property of the chiefly lineage, it had eliminated the landed gentry. This allowed the ali’i-ai-moku to use land as a reward for political and military loyalty instead of a genealogical entitlement. Like Bemba chiefs, Hawai’ian paramounts often appointed loyal commoners to important governmental posts, bypassing ali’i who might be potential usurpers. This act created a corps of bureaucrats whose constituents were not their kinsmen. Such officials were less easily pressured or bribed.

Hawai’ian chiefs had begun to transcend the district of their birth, moving periodically so that the burden of supporting the ali’i-ai-moku would be diffused. When a chief learned from local officials that his subjects were grumbling about his tribute and labor demands, it gave him incentives to take land and labor away from other ali’i.

Such ambitious chiefs were seeking only to increase the size of their chiefdom. However, as we will see in the next chapter, a series of particularly aggressive leaders eventually converted Hawai’i to a monarchy.

IV

Inequality in Kingdoms and Empires

SEVENTEEN

How to Create a Kingdom

We come now to a multigenerational process that changed Hawai’i forever. Beginning at least 800 or 700 years ago, certain Big Island chiefs began trying to expand their territories to include other islands. The earliest attempts rarely succeeded, but later chiefs kept trying.

Around
A.D.
1270, for example, a Big Island chief named Kalanuihua is said to have conquered Maui and Moloka’i and invaded O’ahu. He overextended himself by attacking Kaua’i, where he was taken prisoner.

To be sure, before expanding to other parts of the archipelago it was necessary for a chief to solidify control of his home island. This was especially tough in the case of the Big Island, which had so many districts. One of the most detailed stories of Hawai’ian unification is that of a man named ‘Umi, who was born in the fifteenth century.

‘Umi was the second son of Liloa, an
ali’i-ai-moku,
or paramount chief, of the Big Island, already mentioned in our discussion of stratification. Liloa split his inheritance. He left his first son, Hakau, all his garden land, while ‘Umi was given religious authority.

According to oral historian Samuel Kamakau, Hakau was Liloa’s son by his legitimate noble wife. ‘Umi, on the other hand, was a love child. One day, or so the legend of ‘Umi begins, Liloa saw a commoner woman named Akahi bathing. Captivated by her beauty, he seduced her. Before their affair ended, Liloa gave Akahi his chiefly loincloth, ivory pendant, and feather cape, telling her to give them to any son he had caused her to bear.

Akahi gave birth to ‘Umi but kept his paternity secret for years. Eventually, when he was old enough, she sent him to Liloa bearing his pendant, cape, and loincloth. Liloa recognized the sumptuary goods he had given Akahi and accepted ‘Umi as his son.

As Liloa’s two sons grew, ‘Umi became bigger than Hakau and superior at virtually every task. On his deathbed, however, Liloa named Hakau his chiefly heir and made ‘Umi the guardian of the god Kuka’ilimoku. ‘Umi knew that Hakau resented him, so after Liloa’s death he sought asylum with a chief of the Hilo district.

Over time ‘Umi earned great respect, while Hakau came to be hated as a despot. Eventually a group of big kahunas and lesser chiefs conspired to replace Hakau with ‘Umi. For pragmatic reasons, they were willing to overlook the fact that ‘Umi’s mother was a commoner. With the priests’ help, ‘Umi and his supporters smuggled weapons into a ceremony at which Hakau was assassinated.

Once the nobles of Kona, Kohala, Hilo, Ka’u, and Puna heard of Hakau’s death, they declared their districts autonomous. If ‘Umi wanted to control the whole island, he would now have to conquer it on his own.

‘Umi’s strategy was as follows. First he laid the corpses of Hakau and his bodyguards on the altar of a temple, alleging that their death was a sacrifice. He then married his half sister Kapukini, who was of noble birth. ‘Umi also married the daughter of the chief of Hilo, the district that had once given him refuge. After the chief of Hilo had an argument with him, however, ‘Umi used their dispute as an excuse to overthrow his father-in-law. He next subdued the district of Puna; then came a long campaign against Ka’u. ‘Umi took over Kona and Kohala more easily. Sometime around the mid-fifteenth century, ‘Umi was in control of the whole Big Island.

To be sure, the legend of ‘Umi (like most oral histories) is romantic and idealized. Despite these shortcomings, it shows us many premises that the Hawai’ians themselves considered important. For example:

  1. Chiefly half brothers were destined to become rivals.

  2. If the senior heir was a despot, his overthrow by a junior heir was justified.

  3. Even a junior son with a commoner mother, assuming that he was popular, could usurp the senior son’s position.

  4. However, the usurper should then marry the most highly ranked woman available and demonstrate high levels of achievement.

  5. Conquering a neighboring chief’s territory, and then incorporating it into one’s own chiefdom, was considered an achievement.

  6. The greater the territory he conquered and incorporated, the greater the renown of a chief.

  7. Both usurpation and conquest required the support of lesser chiefs, priests, warriors, and loyal commoners. It was acceptable to reward their loyalty with land grants, even when they did not have the genealogical credentials to deserve garden land.

Might these premises have relevance beyond Hawai’i? Yes indeed; and in the pages that follow, we will see that many of the first kingdoms created in other parts of the world were also the handiwork of usurpers.

Neither Kalanuihua nor ‘Umi succeeded in unifying all of the archipelago. Hawai’ian leaders, however, did not stop trying. During the late eighteenth century, one usurper finally gained a strategic advantage that allowed him to do what earlier chiefs had been trying to do for 500 years. His story is just as romantic and idealized as ‘Umi’s, but with one important difference: much of it is independently confirmed by Euro-American eyewitnesses.

THE SUCCESSFUL UNIFICATION OF HAWAI’I

Early in the eighteenth century, according to various oral histories, a noble named Alapai rose to be chief of the Big Island’s Kohala district. Like so many before him, he set out to unify all districts of the island; by the mid-1700s, he had done so.

Alapai’s military success did not, however, make him the most respected chief in the entire archipelago. That distinction belonged to Kahekili, the paramount chief of Maui, whose genealogical credentials were superior. Like the sacred high chiefs of Tonga, Kahekili possessed such mana that his subjects prostrated themselves in the presence of his spear, his feather cloak, and even the spittoon containing his noble saliva.

Alapai had a nephew named Keoua who lived in the Kona district of the Big Island. Keoua fell in love with Alapai’s beautiful niece Keku’iapoiwa; with Alapai’s blessing, he married her.

Now the soap opera began. Kahekili of Maui (he of the mana-filled spittoon) heard of Keku’iapoiwa’s beauty. He invited her to visit his court. Kahekili was married, but his main wife, Namahana, was frequently away visiting relatives. During a brief window of opportunity, or so the legend goes, Kahekili got Keku’iapoiwa in a family way.

Keku’iapoiwa returned to Kona as if nothing had happened. Her pregnancy was officially attributed to her husband, Keoua. Rumors of her affair, however, had reached Alapai.

All pregnant women are alleged to have unusual food cravings. Keku’iapoiwa’s cravings were beyond unusual. During her sixth month of pregnancy, she allegedly asked to be fed the eyeball of a chief; she had to settle for the eyeball of a man-eating shark. Upon learning of this episode, Alapai asked the kahunas to interpret Keku’iapoiwa’s craving. He was alarmed when they concluded that her child was destined to become “a slayer of chiefs.”

Just as ‘Umi had once been hidden from his half brother Hakau, Keku’iapoiwa and her baby would now have to be hidden from Alapai. Sometime around 1758, Keku’iapoiwa gave birth to a son. He was given to a foster mother and hidden for years in the sacred, landlocked Waipio Valley of North Kohala.

Finally, as he grew old and feeble, Alapai’s fear of the child diminished. He allowed Keku’iapoiwa’s son—officially his grandnephew—to be brought to his paramount village and given a chiefly title. Alapai named him Kamehameha, “The Lonely One.”

Then Keku’iapoiwa’s husband fell ill. He asked his brother Kalaniopu’u, the chief of the Ka’u district, to raise Kamehameha as if he were his own. Kalaniopu’u assigned his greatest warrior the task of training the boy, and the soap opera continued. Kamehameha (1) mastered every chiefly skill; (2) had an affair with one of Kalaniopu’u’s younger wives; and (3) met a young girl named Ka’ahumanu, who would one day become his favorite wife.

When Alapai, paramount ruler of the Big Island, died, he was succeeded by his son Keaweaopala, who turned out to be an unstable despot. The subchiefs of his own Kohala district decided to overthrow him, and the rebellion spread to Ka’u. The leader of the Ka’u insurgence was Kalaniopu’u, and he went to battle with his protégé Kamehameha at his side. Together they pursued the unpopular Keaweaopala to the coast of Kona and then killed him. This left Kalaniopu’u in charge of both Kona and Ka’u.

Word of this conflict reached the sacred chief Kahekili on Maui. Kahekili was convinced that he was Kamehameha’s biological father. He therefore sent his twin half brothers to Kona to make sure that no harm befell Kamehameha.

Kalaniopu’u was already making plans to invade Maui and claim Hana, its beautiful eastern district, for himself. It took him a year to build enough canoes and assemble the warriors needed. During that year, 1778, Captain James Cook arrived in Hawai’i. From that point on, we have British and American texts to complement Hawai’ian oral history.

Kalaniopu’u invaded Maui and established a foothold on Hana. By 1781, however, he was nearing death, and so decided to split his inheritance three ways. Kiwalao, his son by his most highly ranked wife, would inherit his title. Keoua-of-the-Flaming-Cloak, his son by a less highly ranked wife, would inherit land. Kamehameha, his protégé/nephew, was named custodian of the war god Kukailimoku and also of the sacred Waipio Valley, where he had hidden as a child.

Keoua-of-the-Flaming-Cloak envied Kamehameha’s share of the inheritance and thus attacked him. When Kamehameha counterattacked, general war broke out. Kiwalao was killed, and Keoua-of-the-Flaming-Cloak fled. By 1783 Kamehameha was the most powerful noble on the Big Island, and supporters began to flock to him.

Seeking advice from the big kahunas, Kamehameha was told to build a new temple and lay on its altar the body of a chief. He commissioned a big temple and invited Keoua-of-the-Flaming-Cloak to hold peace talks there. No sooner had Keoua stepped from his canoe than he was killed by one of Kamehameha’s warriors. His corpse, along with those of his noble followers, was then laid on the altar of the newly dedicated temple.

Next for Kamehameha came marriage. For this he turned to Ka’ahumanu, whom he had met when she was a little girl at Kalaniopu’u’s village years ago. Of course, Ka’ahumanu was all grown up now. According to oral historian Kathleen Mellen, Kamehameha’s bride was six feet tall and weighed close to 300 pounds.

Kalaniopu’u died in 1782 with his dream of unifying the islands unfulfilled; he had lost even his beachhead on Maui. Now it was up to Kamehameha, and he knew that he would need a military advantage that no previous Hawai’ian leader had enjoyed. That advantage came in the form of muskets and cannons from the Western ships now docking at Hawai’i’s ports. Some of these ships had originally been British but became American property as a result of the Revolutionary War.

British sailor
John
Young had been boatswain of the good ship
Eleanor,
but he stayed ashore when the ship sailed. Angry because the crew of the
Eleanor
had killed some unarmed islanders, the Hawai’ians retaliated by confiscating a second ship, the
Fair American.
They stripped that ship of its guns and ammunition and took prisoner one of its mates, Isaac Davis. Kamehameha realized that Young and Davis knew Euro-American weaponry and military tactics. He not only spared their lives but made them two of his most trusted advisers. They fought by his side during his campaign to unify Hawai’i, and he later awarded them governmental positions, wives, and grants of land.

In 1790 Kamehameha invaded Maui. Paramount chief Kahekili had by then retired to O’ahu, leaving Maui to his son. After a taste of Kamehameha’s artillery, Kahekili’s son decided to join his father in O’ahu, leaving Maui to the invaders.

Kamehameha encountered even less resistance on Moloka’i. Then, following the death of Kahekili in 1794, he invaded O’ahu with 1,000 war canoes, 12,000 warriors, 16 foreign advisers, and abundant logistic support. He defeated Kahekili’s son and offered the latter’s heart on the altar of a temple.

Kamehameha now was master of all but Kaua’i and the smaller islands. While Ka’ahumanu would always remain his favorite wife, he knew that to establish a dynasty he would have to marry the most noble woman available. That turned out to be Keopuolani, the eight-year-old granddaughter of a Maui noblewoman. Keopuolani’s grandmother betrothed her to Kamehameha in return for economic support and political protection.

Kamehameha then began building war canoes and assembling provisions for an assault on Kaua’i. He chose for this task the Anahulu Valley on the northwest coast of O’ahu, an ideal jumping-off place. A collaborative study by social anthropologist Marshall Sahlins and archaeologist Patrick Kirch reveals that the entire valley was artificially terraced from top to bottom, providing intensive agricultural support for Kamehameha’s labor force. Realizing that resistance was futile, the chief of Kaua’i capitulated in 1810. This left Kamehameha in command of the entire archipelago.