The Desecration and Restoration of Kahoʻolawe: A Native Hawaiian Perspective

Historical Context and Cultural Significance

Kahoʻolawe, one of the eight main Hawaiian Islands, holds profound cultural and spiritual significance for Native Hawaiians (Kānaka Maoli). Inhabited since around 400 AD, it served as a center for celestial navigation, fishing, and ceremonies dedicated to Kanaloa, the god of the ocean. Archeological evidence reveals small fishing villages along its coasts, with the island revered as a wahi pana a sacred, legendary place. For Native Hawaiians, the ʻāina (land) is not property but an ancestral family member, demanding respect and reciprocity through aloha ʻāina (love for the land). This deep connection underscores the pain caused by the island’s militarization and ongoing restoration challenges.

Military Bombing and Environmental Devastation

Following the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, the U.S. military declared martial law in Hawaiʻi and seized Kahoʻolawe without consent from Native Hawaiians or the successors of the Hawaiian Kingdom, overthrown in 1893. From World War II through the Cold War, the island became a bombing range for ship-to-shore bombardments, aerial strikes, and submarine torpedo tests. The 1965 “Sailor's Hat” tests, detonating 500 tons of TNT to simulate nuclear blasts, left massive craters, triggered erosion, and contaminated soil and water with unexploded ordnance (UXO), heavy metals, and dioxins. Native Hawaiians describe this as a desecration, with the land “crying out” as red mud runoff darkened surrounding bays, symbolizing both environmental and spiritual violence. The bombings destroyed heiau (temples), petroglyphs, and traditional practices, rendering the island uninhabitable and unsafe.

From a Native perspective, this militarization reflects broader U.S. imperialism, part of the illegal annexation of Hawaiʻi and suppression of Hawaiian culture. The island’s use as a “vulnerable target” epitomizes colonial disregard for sacred spaces, with lasting impacts on cultural identity and sovereignty.

Resistance and the End of Bombing

The 1970s Hawaiian cultural renaissance sparked resistance, led by the Protect Kahoʻolawe ʻOhana (PKO), founded by activists like George Helm and Emmett Aluli. Through occupations, lawsuits, and public demonstrations, PKO framed the bombing as cultural genocide, linking it to demands for Native self-determination. A 1976 landing by nine protesters highlighted the island’s sacred status and charged the Navy with violating environmental laws like the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA). Tragically, Helm and Kimo Mitchell disappeared at sea in 1977 during an occupation attempt, their presumed deaths galvanizing the movement. Legal battles, such as Aluli v. Brown, culminated in the Navy halting bombing in 1990. In 1994, the island was transferred to the State of Hawaiʻi under a federal mandate to ensure safety for cultural, archaeological, and recreational use.

Incomplete Cleanup Efforts

The 1994 Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) committed the Navy to a $400 million, 10-year cleanup to remove UXO and debris, aiming for 100% surface clearance and 25-30% subsurface clearance. By 2004, contractors removed over 9 million pounds of ordnance, clearing 75% of the surface and 2,600 acres to a four-foot depth. The Navy deemed this sufficient for “meaningful use,” but only 9% of the subsurface was cleared, leaving 25% of the island uncleared and thousands of UXO remnants. Erosion continues to expose buried munitions, making only 9% of the island safe for unescorted access.

Native Hawaiians view this as a betrayal, with activists like Walter Ritte calling the partial cleanup a “moral and cultural harm.” The incomplete effort far below the promised 25-30% subsurface clearance limits safe access and perpetuates the desecration. The State of Hawaiʻi, as trustee of the Kahoʻolawe Island Reserve Commission (KIRC) under the 1959 Admission Act, has a duty to fund restoration but faces chronic underfunding. The $44 million Kahoʻolawe Rehabilitation Trust Fund, established in 1993, was depleted by 2016, stalling progress. Native groups argue this breaches trust responsibilities, calling for litigation against the Navy and additional federal aid.

Human Toll

No deaths or injuries were recorded from the bombings themselves, as Kahoʻolawe was uninhabited during military use. However, the resistance movement bore a heavy cost. The 1977 disappearance of Helm and Mitchell at sea remains a profound loss, symbolizing the sacrifices for sovereignty. During the 1994-2004 cleanup, contractors and volunteers faced risks from UXO, with minor injuries like cuts reported but no fatalities. Today, the persistent danger of buried ordnance restricts restoration efforts, endangering volunteers and reinforcing Native views of ongoing injustice.

Ongoing Restoration and Native Aspirations

Restoration, led by KIRC and PKO, is a multi-generational effort to heal Kahoʻolawe’s ʻāina and spirit. Initiatives include removing invasive species, replanting native flora like wiliwili trees, controlling erosion, and reviving cultural practices through volunteer malama (stewardship) programs. New technologies, such as advanced UXO detection, are being explored to expand safe areas. Yet, challenges persist: wildfires, invasive species, and contamination hinder progress, and limited funding restricts access to escorted visits.

For Native Hawaiians, restoration is inseparable from sovereignty and cultural revitalization. Annual PKO voyages to Kahoʻolawe embody aloha ʻāina and resistance to U.S. occupation, tying the island’s fate to movements like #LandBack and protests against ongoing militarism (e.g., Pōhakuloa bombing). The 1993 Apology Resolution acknowledged U.S. wrongs in the overthrow but offered no reparations. Native groups demand billions for land theft and environmental harm, pursuing lawsuits under the Public Land Trust and international claims at the UN. A 2025 congressional study on Hawaiian reparations underscores these demands, with Kahoʻolawe’s cleanup as a baseline.

Path Forward

Kahoʻolawe’s story is one of resilience and unresolved justice. Native Hawaiians view its healing as a spiritual imperative, fulfilling kuleana (responsibility) to ancestors and future generations. The island’s partial restoration inspires global Indigenous solidarity, but true recovery requires more than environmental fixes it demands decolonization, full cleanup, and reparations for cultural and territorial losses. As one activist stated, “If we don’t do something, we’re going to die,” reflecting the urgency of self-reliant action in the face of government inaction. Kahoʻolawe remains a powerful symbol of Native Hawaiian strength, calling for a future where the ʻāina is whole and sovereignty restored.