The Kingdom of Hawaiʻi's Diplomatic Showcase at the 1889 Paris Exposition Universelle

The Exposition Universelle of 1889, held in Paris from May 6 to October 31, transformed the Champ de Mars into a global stage, drawing over 32 million visitors to celebrate the centennial of the French Revolution. At its heart stood the newly unveiled Eiffel Tower, a symbol of engineering prowess that overshadowed the pavilions of nations from every corner of the world. Amid this spectacle, the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi still a sovereign monarchy in the Pacific made its mark with a modest yet poignant exhibit. This participation was more than a display of curiosities; it was a calculated effort to affirm Hawaiʻi's modernity, promote its economic potential, and navigate the turbulent international currents threatening its independence.

A Kingdom on the Global Stage

By 1889, Hawaiʻi had established a tradition of engaging with world's fairs, beginning with the 1855 Paris Exposition. These events offered the small island nation a platform to counter colonial perceptions and showcase its progress. King David Kalākaua, who had ascended the throne in 1874, championed such initiatives as tools of diplomacy. Despite the constraints imposed by the 1887 Bayonet Constitution which curtailed his powers and empowered foreign (haole) elites Kalākaua allocated 20,000 francs (roughly $4,000 USD) from the national treasury to fund the pavilion. This investment reflected his vision of Hawaiʻi as a literate, industrious society, boasting near-universal education and budding industries.

The pavilion, a 250-square-meter structure on Avenue de Suffren near the Indian Palace, was designed by French architect M. Bon in the style of an "Eastern temple." It blended Hawaiian motifs with exotic flair to captivate European audiences. Exhibits highlighted the kingdom's dual identity: ancient Polynesian heritage alongside modern agricultural and mineral wealth. However, the displays increasingly favored Euro-American commercial interests, with native cultural items relegated to decorative roles. This shift mirrored the growing influence of sugar planters and missionaries, even as royal portraits of Kalākaua and Queen Kapiʻolani underscored the monarchy's legitimacy.

France, under the Third Republic, had no king in 1889; President Sadi Carnot presided over the expo's inauguration. While the Hawaiian delegation operated within the fair's international milieu, no records indicate direct meetings with Carnot or other high French officials. Interactions were confined to expo organizers, fellow exhibitors, and the curious public.

The Delegation: Architects of Representation

The Hawaiian contingent was lean and purposeful, comprising just 2 to 5 individuals focused on logistics and promotion rather than spectacle. Leading the effort was John Adams Cummins, a prominent Native Hawaiian statesman and businessman born in 1835. Appointed commissioner by Kalākaua, Cummins coordinated the kingdom's interests, drawing on his experience in politics and commerce. He would later serve as Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1890. Supporting him was John A. Hassinger, who compiled the official Catalogue of the Hawaiian Exhibits at the Exposition Universelle, Paris, 1889. Hassinger, a key organizer, detailed contributions from 50 exhibitors, including royal family members, Kamehameha Schools, sugar plantations, and private collectors. Unlike earlier fairs, there were no Native Hawaiian performers or large entourages; the emphasis was on professional curation.

Planning commenced in 1887–1888, aligning with Kalākaua's post-constitution recovery. The government solicited exhibits by early 1889, with shipments departing Honolulu via steamers likely vessels like the City of Sydney or Australia in late 1888 or early 1889. These went through San Francisco or directly to European ports. The human delegation, including Cummins, probably sailed in March or April to ensure arrival before the opening, traveling trans-Pacific to a U.S. hub and then across the Atlantic to Le Havre or Liverpool. Exact manifests remain elusive in digitized records, but the group's modest size suggests they blended into general passenger lists.

The expo ran through October, with post-event reports published in Honolulu by late 1889. No major incidents marred the participation; it was deemed a quiet success in fostering trade ties.

Exhibits: From Lava to Legacy

The pavilion's contents spanned Hawaiʻi's natural bounty and cultural artistry, organized into categories like agriculture, mining, and native manufactures. Agricultural displays featured coffee, sugar (including sugarcane varieties), tobacco, rice, and taro flour staples driving the kingdom's economy. Mineral exhibits showcased volcanic rocks and lava specimens, evoking the islands' fiery origins. Crafts included ramie fibers, modern and ancient mats, bark cloth (kapa) garments, and intricate featherwork, such as a yellow pilgrimage cloak adorned with red and black crescents.

Furniture crafted from native woods like opiko, hau, and kou highlighted artisanal skill, alongside mosaic tables from the king's wardrobe and landscape paintings. Portraits of Kalākaua and Kapiʻolani added a regal touch. One cheeky highlight: Hawaiian okolehao, a distilled spirit, was smuggled past alcohol restrictions and reportedly earned an award, delighting the delegation.

Hassinger's catalogue, printed by the Hawaiian Gazette Company, meticulously documented these items, emphasizing the kingdom's "activity and intelligence." The exhibit subtly promoted investment in sugar and other exports, targeting European markets amid U.S. dominance.

Purpose and Broader Context

Sending the delegation served multiple aims: bolstering sovereignty amid annexation threats, attracting capital for agriculture, and projecting Polynesian progress. Kalākaua saw fairs as arenas to elevate his people's status, countering exoticized views. Yet, the haole tilt in displays foreshadowed the monarchy's 1893 overthrow. With no major treaties emerging, the effort still networked Hawaiian elites with global players, underscoring the kingdom's diplomatic agility.

Global Echoes in the Press

Newspapers worldwide noted the Hawaiian pavilion, often framing it through lenses of curiosity or commerce. In Hawaiʻi, the Pacific Commercial Advertiser and Hawaiian Gazette announced preparations in 1888–1889, praising the okolehao feat and exhibit completion by August. Native papers like Ka Nupepa Elele covered cultural aspects.

U.S. coverage, via outlets like The Sun (New York, July 8, 1889) and Banning Herald (California, October 26, 1889), highlighted Sandwich Islands' minerals and portraits as "elegant" and "fine." French press, including Le Figaro and Illustration, called it "most interesting," focusing on featherwork. British The Times grouped it with Pacific displays, while Australian Sydney Morning Herald noted sugar innovations. Exotic tropes appeared e.g., "dusky maidens" in photos but praise dominated, with 20–30 articles in archives portraying Hawaiʻi as a vibrant contributor.

Archival Footprints

The Catalogue stands as the cornerstone record, housed in collections like HathiTrust and the Bishop Museum, which also preserves artifacts such as feather cloaks. Hawaiian government files, including Foreign Office dispatches (1850–1900), log expo diplomacy. U.S. reports (Reports of the United States Commissioners to the Universal Exposition of 1889 at Paris, 1890) detail Hawaiian sugar in Volume 5, affirming independent status. French Ministry of Commerce records (Archives Nationales) note pavilion allocation under "Sandwich Islands," with Journal Officiel listings. Bishop Museum photos and Library of Congress images (e.g., LOT 6634) capture the setup.

For minutiae like travel manifests, physical archives in Honolulu (State Archives microfilms 73/50 for 1880–1900 passenger lists) and Paris (Bureau International des Expositions) hold promise. Interior Department expenses and Cummins' correspondence may surface there, painting a fuller picture of the journey.

A Lasting Symbol of Resilience

Hawaiʻi's 1889 participation, though small, encapsulated a kingdom's bold outreach in an era of empire. As the Eiffel Tower pierced the Parisian sky, the pavilion quietly asserted that the distant islands were not relics but active players. Today, it reminds us of Kalākaua's enduring legacy: a monarch who, against odds, wove Hawaiʻi into the world's tapestry.