The voice of the land: consequences of neo-colonialism in French Polynesia

The recent events surrounding the independence movements in New Caledonia continue the deep-rooted tradition of post-colonialism. Where does the right to land draw the line between claims and identity?

Authoress: Alexia Menez (alexia.menez@etu.unistra.fr) [translated with the help of Deepl.com]

The marae ‘Ᾱrahurahu

Blind and deaf, not guilty because too far away, time will give way to silence. Yet today, in an area that is unknown to many, certain acts are taking place. New Caledonia, whose indigenous inhabitants have been fighting for the territory's independence for several decades now, is once again making its voice heard, or at least trying to. While the situation is covered by the media, it also raises many questions on a continental scale, and in particular about its colonial history. As far as the French Overseas Territories are concerned, do they have to resort to the use of force to assert their rights?

In the words of anthropologist Benoît Trépied: ‘It's a colonial problem of decolonisation. It's about how to get out of a colonial situation other than by violence, other than by crushing one side by another, one way or another"[1].

Since 1791 and the first slaves’ uprisings in Saint-Domingue, France has not been a good example of how to let go. Both now and before, the stakes are the same: to keep an overseas economy going. Taking from others what you can't find at home. The day when we move away, when we ‘decolonise’, is always uncertain. Lessons have not been learned from the extreme example of Haiti, which was left to fend for itself, without any help towards the autonomy of its new government. Some of the territories conquered by force have been liberated, but few of them have done so without opposition, without the emergence of independence movements that were almost forced to take part in the violence. Kanaky is no exception to the rule, with crimes continuing since 1878 and the first major Kanak revolts. After an apparent peace made possible by the Nouméa Agreements that lasted almost forty years, has the violence now reached its climax with the declaration of a state of emergency? Is New Caledonia so necessary to France?

To return to a point that is more my own area of expertise, I would like to draw a parallel with other islands in Oceania that are also fighting neo-colonialism in their own way. Because, although talking about colonies is now out of fashion, the forms of oppression or at least authority over these former possessions are still with us today. As a proud part of France's ‘heritage’ and idyllic landscapes, the archipelagos of French Polynesia have long been the object of European envy. The lack of knowledge about this region is all the more striking given that the national media are silent about the claims that have been made for several decades now. Tahiti, the main island of the “archipèle de la Société” and the capital of French Polynesia, now has the means to take action and the scope to make gradual progress towards its desired independence. This is not the case for its neighbours, who are less populated and less influential in the fields of justice and politics. So, over time, the traditions of today have been built up, inspired by those of yesterday and shaped by external demand. It is these small, ordinary gestures that reflect France's island colonial history. In the weaving, dancing, singing and even the foundations of the fare[2], Polynesian identities take shape and are composed. It is these everyday gestures that bear material witness to the colonial grip and the increase in their production that reveals the determination of the Pacific islanders to dissociate themselves from it by distinguishing themselves from metropolitan France.

I would like to point out the drastic difference between the Kanak uprisings and the Polynesian demands for independence, the struggles and situations being relatively opposed but just as revealing of the consequences of colonial and neo-colonial ventures to this day. It's pretty easy to visualise: two radically different societies come into contact with each other, geographically distant and with symbolic concepts (land, families, economies, beliefs) that differ in every way. As one society more or less violently gains the upper hand over the other, the two conceptions end up intersecting, sticking as closely as possible to the model of the dominant one, sometimes even eradicating certain aspects of the dominated one. Once the balance of power has been established, it's only a matter of time before forgetfulness and loss, as many people call them, creep in. Until the whispers of revolt become louder, reviving the memories of the elders and creating movements of cultural reappropriation, finally making way for modernity. This modernity is very specific to the island environment, as it combines a strong desire to promote the ‘Polynesian identity’[3] in a way that is both scientific and economic.

The promotion of Polynesian culture therefore has a dual connotation. On the one hand, associations, museums and researchers are today more than active in promoting pre-European techniques, objects and rituals, thus enabling knowledge of the Polynesian past to be set in stone; on the other hand, these elements are reused in their own way to create both an individual and a collective identity. This latter phenomenon must obviously be understood in the context of the gradual establishment of an economic system imposed by colonisation. Isolation is no longer a solution but a trademark, a means of emancipation for some who literally sell culture. Historically, isolation has never been a concern for Polynesians, as the ocean is a network of interrelations[4]; however, at the dawn of globalisation and following the establishment of the ‘world-system’, this particularity did not allow for its inclusion. Therefore, it was only natural that tourism should seize on this selling point. And from this uniqueness, which only exists as a result of the promotion of capitalism and therefore as a consequence of colonisation, the Polynesians have found a means of asserting their own identities.

The subject is rather contradictory: can detachment from colonial authority, apart from violence, only be achieved through a capitalist system? What is certain is that the islanders have not escaped unscathed, because this is a case of silent violence that has left its mark on entire generations, who are now searching for their history and who they are. So yes, traditions no longer carry the same meanings, heiva dances[5] no longer have the same rhythms, vahines no longer wear the same traditional costumes, and Tahitians wear Marquesan tattoos. What I see here is the production of new identities, a cry from the South Pacific for the history of its land, a recognition of the value of its existence, which must be understood in its neo-colonial context. While these cultural productions do not perfectly reproduce past traditions, they are nonetheless legitimate and demonstrate all the more the consequences of French colonial history.

[1] Interview with Benoît Trépied, anthropologist and researcher at the CNRS, in the France Culture podcast ‘Émeutes en Nouvelle-Calédonie : le spectre de la guerre civile’ (15.05.2024).

[2] A fare is translated into French as a house, although the architecture and composition are not the same. There are several variations of the fare, to give just one example the fare potē consists of a courtyard housing meetings around a table, usually in a seated position.

[3] The notion of identity used in its singular sense is not in fact very meaningful and is rather reductive in terms of accurately depicting the social phenomena underway, yet it is used as it is as a tool for asserting identity (see the work of Rogers Brubaker, ‘Au-delà de l’‘identité’", Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, vol. 139, p. 66-85).

[4] GUIOT, Hélène, Vivre la mer : expressions océaniennes de l'insularité, Rennes, PUR, 2013.

[5] A cultural event that takes place every year and features Polynesian dance, song and sports competitions.