# The Pacific Way 50 years on

Sémir S. Al Wardi, Jean-Paul Pastorel, Marc Tabani

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<figure><img src="image_1.png" /></figure>
PACIFIC WAY
50 years on

Proceedings of the Conference
Actes du colloque

October 18-20, 2022

Punaauia - University of French Polynesia

under the direction of Professors :

Sémir AL WARDI

Jean-Paul PASTOREL

and Research Directors:

Serge TCHERKEZOFF

Marc TABANI
<figure><img src="image_2.png" /></figure>

Le code de la propriété intellectuelle n'autorisant au terme de l'article L.122-5 2e et 3e a, d'une part, que «les copies ou reproductions strictement destinées à l'usage privé du copiste et non destinées à une utilisation collective» et, d'autre part, que les analyses et les courtes citations dans le but d'exemple et d'illustrations «toute représentation ou reproduction intégrale ou partielle faite sans le consentement de l'auteur ou de ses ayants droit ou ayant cause, est illicite» (art. L 122-4) Cette reproduction ou représentation par quelque procédé que ce soit, constituerait donc une contrefaçon sanctionnée par les articles L. 335-2 et suivants du Code de la propriété intellectuelle.

Image de couverture : Travail graphique d'après l'affiche du colloque du 18 au 20 octobre 2022

<figure><img src="image_3.png" /></figure>

UPF
UNIVERSITÉ
DE LA POLYNESIE FRANÇAISE

<figure><img src="image_4.png" /></figure>

ISBN-13:
PACIFIC WAY
50 years on

Proceedings of the Conference
Actes du colloque

October 18-20, 2022

Punaauia - University of French Polynesia

under the direction of Professors :

Sémir AL WARDI

Jean-Paul PASTOREL

and Research Directors:

Serge TCHERKEZOFF

Marc TABANI

<figure><img src="image_5.png" /></figure>

MAISON
DES SCIENCES DE L'HOMME
DU PACIFIQUE
<figure><img src="image_6.png" /><figcaption>Sir Kamisese Mara</figcaption></figure>
This book brings together the papers presented at the «Pacific Way, 50 years on» conference.

This conference was held from 18 to 20 October 2022 at the University of French Polynesia under the direction of Professors Sémir AL WARDI and Jean-Paul PASTOREL and Research Directors Serge TCHERKEZOFF and Marc TABANI.

In addition to the High Commissioner of the French Republic and the President of French Polynesia, we were honoured to welcome the Australian Minister for Foreign Affairs, Ms Penny WONG, who was keen to publicly express Australia's strengthened commitment to the region. It goes to show that this is a theme that inspires the Indo-Pacific States.

The presentations were given in French or English, depending on the origin of the presenters. For this publication, we have chosen to publish in English, thus unifying the French presentations by translating them into English.

From the outset, the aim of the project was to produce an educational tool that would be useful to all students and researchers of the Pacific. This is why the symposium, and the present book which has resulted from it, has brought together historical studies on the development of the Pacific Way theme since 1970 and studies on the contemporary period, bringing together the political, sociological-anthropological and economic dimensions which reflect the richness of this reference to the Pacific Way and which bring together the disciplines active within the two laboratories, the GDI and the CREDO.
# The Pacific Way, Fifty Years On

Semir Al Wardi, Jean-Paul Pastorel, Marc Tabani & Serge Tcherkezoff

## TABLE OF CONTENTS

<table><tr><td>Introduction</td><td>10</td></tr></table>

## Opening Speeches:

<table><tr><td>1- M. Eric SPITZ</td><td>28</td></tr><tr><td>2- Mrs Penny WONG</td><td>33</td></tr><tr><td>3- M. Edouard FRITCH</td><td>38</td></tr></table>

## Regional Comparative issues

### Historical

<table><tr><td>4-Paul d'Arcy</td><td>42</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way's Longue Durée: Past Lessons for Pacific Futures from Pacific Regional Networks</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>5-Michael Goldsmith</td><td>55</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Our Sea of Floating Signifiers: or, the Curious Voyage of the Pacific Way</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>6-Marc Tabani</td><td>70</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Melanesian Socialism: Anthropology of a Post-colonial Illusion</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>7-Serge Tcherkezoff</td><td>96</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Divided Societies? The Pacific Way Spirit of Consensus: Samoa (1962), Aotearoa New Zealand (2018)</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>8-Elisabeth Worliczek</td><td>125</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Pacific Island Universities in the Past, Present, and Future: the Potential for a Pacific Way forward</td></tr></table>
## Sovereignties

<table><tbody><tr><td>9- Gonzaga Puas</td><td>140</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Is Micronesia Free Under the Weight of the Compact of Free Association?</td></tr><tr><td>10-lati lati</td><td>149</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">THE IMPLICATIONS OF 21<sup>ST</sup> CENTURY GEOPOLITICAL COMPETITION ON THE "PACIFIC WAY"</td></tr><tr><td>11- Jon Fraenkel</td><td>174</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way, Traditional Hierarchy and Democracy in Fiji, Tonga and Sāmoa</td></tr><tr><td>12- Tamatoa Bambridge, Paul D'Arcy, Alexander Mawyer, Bernard Rigo</td><td>211</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way and the New Sovereignty in Oceania</td></tr><tr><td>13-George Carter</td><td>229</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">In search of the Pacific Way Consensus.</td></tr><tr><td>14- Jean-Paul Pastorel</td><td>246</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The French Pacific Collectivities in the Concert of Nations</td></tr></tbody></table>

## Case studies: Vanuatu, Samoa-New Zealand, New Caledonia, French Polynesia

### Vanuatu

<table><tbody><tr><td>15-Jean-Paul Nirua</td><td>267</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Search for a National Identity Claim alongside the Pacific Way through the Emergence of National Universities of the Pacific: The Case of the National University of Vanuatu</td></tr></tbody></table>
## Samoa-New-Zealand

<table><tr><td>16-Tuvalu Fonomaaitu</td><td>288</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way: O au o matua fanau, the case for Pacific children and young people in Aotearoa New Zealand</td></tr></table>

## New Caledonia

<table><tr><td>17-Anthony Tutugoro</td><td>299</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">"Community of Destiny" or "Parallel Paths"?</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Difficult Breakthroughs of a Pacific Way Unique to New Caledonia.</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>18-Patrice Godin</td><td>326</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Kanak Path to Independence</td></tr></table>

## French Polynesia

<table><tr><td>19-Veronique Dorbe-Larcade</td><td>345</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Learning from the Other in French Polynesia: Past and Present Valorisation of Historical Figures of Contact (Ahutoru, Hitihiti, Tupaia, Mai)</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>20. Matteo Aria</td><td>359</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">In French Polynesia: Ending of Oblivion and Patrimonial Authority on the marae of Taputapuātea</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>21-Sandrine Chaillé de Néré</td><td>379</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way and Oceanian Civil Identities on French Soil: Being Oneself within Another</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>22- Vincent Dropsy & Sylvain Petit</td><td>395</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">Regional Economic Integration and the Pacific Way</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>23- Christian Montet & Véronique Selinsky</td><td>409</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Compatibility of Anti-trust Law with the Pacific Way</td></tr></table>

<table><tr><td>24-Sémir Al Wardi</td><td>437</td></tr><tr><td colspan="2">The Pacific Way in French Polynesia: Public and Private views, Past and Recent</td></tr></table>
On August 5 1971 the first meeting of the South Pacific Forum took place in Wellington.

The first meeting of the South Pacific Forum was initiated by New Zealand and held in Wellington, with attendants of seven countries including the President of Nauru, the Prime Ministers of Western Samoa, Tonga and Fiji, the Premier of the Cook Islands, the Australian Minister for External Territories, and the Prime Minister of New Zealand. It was a private and informal discussion of a wide range of issues of common concern, concentrating on matters directly affecting the daily lives of the people of the islands of the South Pacific, devoting particular attention to trade, shipping, tourism, and education. Afterwards this meeting was held annually in member countries and areas in turn. In 1999, the 30th South Pacific Forum decided to transform into Pacific Islands Forum, with a more extensive and formal way of discussion and organization.

<figure><img src="image_7.png" /></figure>

This image shown here from the meeting in Wellington is from a Miscellaneous collection of images Archives New Zealand holds.

<figure><img src="image_8.png" /></figure>
# INTRODUCTION

At the beginning of the move towards decolonization or autonomy, the Pacific States and Territories put forward the ideology of a “Pacific Way”, a way of living together and building a “common destiny”, presented at the United Nations in 1970. Where are we half a century later, after Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara’s call for a “Pacific Way” before the delegates of the United Nations in 1970?

It is with that question in mind that our two research centres, GDI (Gouvernance et développement insulaire, Université de la Polynésie française UPF) and CREDO (Centre de recherches et de documentation sur l'Océanie, Aix-Marseille Université, CNRS, EHESS) co-organised a symposium held at UPF in October 2022, under the direction of Professors Sémir Al Wardi and Jean-Paul Pastorel and Research Directors Marc Tabani and Serge Tcherkezoff<fnref n="1" />. This book brings together most of the papers presented at that symposium, after some revision and enlargements by the authors during 2023. In addition to the High Commissioner of the French Republic and the President of French Polynesia, we were honoured to welcome the Australian Minister for Foreign Affairs, Hon. Penny Wong, who was keen to publicly express Australia's strengthened commitment to the region. It goes to show that this is a theme that inspires the Indo-Pacific States. These official speeches are included here.

The presentations were given in French or English, depending on the origin of the presenters. For this publication available in printed and on-line form, we have chosen to publish in English, thus unifying the French presentations by translating them into English<fnref n="2" />. But a full French version will also be accessible on-line. Indeed, from the outset, the aim of the project was to produce an educational tool that would be useful to

<footnote n="1">1 Marc Tabani, visiting the UPF in 2021, had proposed the theme, and Serge Tcherkezoff pointed out that we had recently reached the fiftieth anniversary, which justified a retrospective. Sémir Al Wardi, who is in charge of political science studies at UPF had suggested that this should be a joint programme, and Jean-Paul Pastorel, who is both a member of the GDI and Vice-President of UPF, immediately gave his support to the project, which subsequently received material support from the French government's "Fonds Pacifique" (Fund for cooperative projects in the Pacific between French and other territories/states in the region), from the French Embassy in New Zealand, and from the research budget of the UPF, the GDI, the CREDO and the EHESS@ANU program supported by the French Embassy in Australia (www.pacific-dialogues.fr).</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 Many thanks to Professor Gaetano Rando of University of Wollongong who have greatly helped with his advices on English language for all the chapters.</footnote>
all students and researchers of the Pacific. This is also why the symposium, and the present book which has resulted from it, has brought together historical studies on the development of the Pacific Way theme since 1970 and studies on the contemporary period, bringing together the political, sociological-anthropological and economic dimensions which reflect the richness of this reference to the Pacific Way and which bring together the disciplines active within the two research centres, the GDI and the CREDO.

*

Ratu Mara, at the time the first head of state of a freshly independent Fiji, commented a few years later that he wished to put forward a common destiny that could and should promote a new Fijian citizenship among a population half constituted by Indigenous people and half by the descendants of initially indentured East Indian workers brought in during the 19th century. Ratu Mara also noted the potential comparisons with neighbouring countries following similar paths. In his words, it was a call to build a society where "people of different races, opinions and cultures, can live and work together for the good of all." The phrase was often advocated thereafter, on two levels. First, it resonated as a call for decolonization for countries that had not yet achieved formal self-governance. In this sense it encouraged continuing or fresh reflection on the current political statuses of states across the region: independent state, associated state, dependent but "non-incorporated" territory (American examples), incorporated territory but according to various formulas (such as French overseas "departments", or "collectivities" but not "communities"), with varying legislative degrees of "autonomy", or the particular case of the "sui generis collectivity" that is New Caledonia.

But the call for a "Pacific Way" was also taken up in a widening vision, to designate what would be a characteristic way of a social contract specific to the cultures of the Pacific, a contract enabling inequalities to be managed, overcome or, at least, encompassed. In this sense, we observe a wide field of political studies, from everything that relates to the "common destiny" of societies "divided" into communitarianisms through their history, old or colonial, to the various ways of establishing internal political agreements such as, for example, the method of "consensus" in opposition to majoritarian voting around constitutive (or even constitutional) developments.
The call for a "Pacific Way" has a well-known history, which is briefly recalled in a few chapters of this book, with reference to the main publications: Ratu Mara's address in 1970 (Mara, 1997), Ron Crocombe's celebrated essay under the same title (Crocombe 1976), Stephanie Lawson's reconsiderations (Lawson 2010) distinguishing Ratu Mara's "chiefly" vision and Crocombe's (and others at USP) vision openly anti-colonial (Tupouniua, Crocombe and Slatter, 1975). One should also keep in mind the fundamental historical analysis provided by Matt Tomlinson (2019), seriously considering the way that Crocombe (1976) labelled his overview "the 'Theology' of the Pacific Way" and noting that Tupouniua et al. 1975 included three chapters on the role of churches. Tomlinson's contribution is also a vast synthesis of further developments, the place of economics and development in the Pacific Way vision, discussing also Epeli Hau'ofa, Malama Meleisea, Bernard Narokobi, Feleterika Nokise, Albert Wendt, etc., up to Marshall Sahlins's famous "Develop-Man in the Pacific" (Sahlins 1992), before analysing the theologies of the Fijian Methodist Ilaita Sevati Tuwere and of the Tongan Anglican Winston Halapua. The symposium also looked at the way in which the notion of the Pacific Way was taken up in an even more political and regionally more limited way, under the name of the "Melanesian Way". Did the invention of the "Melanesian Way" complement the "Pacific Way" - the variation of a "Melanesian style" - or does it, on the contrary, represent a real distancing?

But for the most part, this book is concerned with examining the performance of this slogan in the current period, at the level of the region as a whole or in the specific cases of individual states or territories.

**List of References:**

Crocombe, Ron. 1976. *The Pacific Way: An Emerging Identity*. Suva: Lotu Pasifika.

Lawson, Stephanie. 2010. " 'The Pacific Way' as Postcolonial Discourse", *Journal of Pacific History* 45 (3): 297–314.

Mara, Ratu Sir Kamisese. 1997. *The Pacific Way: A Memoir*. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press.

Sahlins, Marshall. 1992. "The Economics of Develop-Man in the Pacific". Res 21: 12-25.
Tomlinson, Matt. 2019. "The Pacific Way of Development and Christian Theology", *Sites*, new series, 16 (1): 24-43.

Tupouniua, Sione, Ron Crocombe, and Claire Slatter, eds. 1975. *The Pacific Way: Social Issues in National Development*. Suva: South Pacific Social Sciences Association.

*

**Abstracts**

The following pages include, for each chapter that follow the Opening Speeches, the abstract that was written by the author for the symposium.

The symposium has been organized in a number of sessions<fnref n="3" />. For this publication, we have brought together the chapters into two large sections, one dealing with regional comparative issues (firstly more historical, followed by discussions on sovereignty and external relations), another section with more localized analyses: Vanuatu, Samoa-New-Zealand, New-Caledonia (with two chapters on the political situation and perspectives), and finally French Polynesia (with six chapters, on history, anthropology, sociology, economics, and politics).

**<u>Regional Comparative issues:</u>**

*<u>Historical</u>*

**4-Paul d'Arcy**

**The Pacific Way's longue durée: Past Lessons for Pacific Futures from Pacific Regional Networks**

This chapter examines the *longue durée* of Pacific regional networks from 1500 CE (Christian Era) onwards. It argues that these enduring inter-island trade, social and political networks shaped according to indigenous priorities hold important lessons for realizing Ratu Mara's 1970 call for the diverse peoples of the Pacific to use Pacific ways to live together and fashion common destinies. These networks fulfilled key objectives

<footnote n="3">³ See the full program, with summaries of papers and biodata of delegates, at: https://www.pacific-dialogues.fr/operations_programmes_news_pacific_19.php</footnote>
and needs that saw them emphasized and maintained even in circumstances of local
self-sufficiency, and also endured into the colonial era and after independence. The
geographical extent and enduring quality of these networks in global terms challenges
political theory arguing in favour of centralised authority harnessing collective resources
as vital to meet existential threats. Regular indigenous Tahiti-centred networks, for
example, stretched the equivalent distance from Paris to Moscow. These vast networks
held together by emphasizing local autonomy, fluid responses to environmental
challenges, and trans-local higher authority losing consent if it failed to return local
benefit. In this regard, this enduring Pacific Way holds lessons for all of humanity and
modern Pacific discourse.

5-Michael Goldsmith

Our Sea of Floating Signifiers: or, the Curious Voyage of the Pacific Way

Through the lens of Lévi-Strauss's notion of 'floating signifier', originally applied to the Pacific concept of mana, I aim to show that the ideology of the Pacific Way has changed its meaning repeatedly over the course of its more than fifty-year career. Such an analysis is not intended to devalue the Pacific Way (by way of parallel, Lévi-Strauss's analysis has not diminished the mana of mana). I will argue, however, that its users have continually responded to changes in purpose and context and some of their uses of the term may be more fit for purpose than others. To make my case, I intend to focus on two historical moments at the beginning and the end of Pacific Way's trajectory so far.

First, the few years after 1970, when the initial (but contested) invention of the term by Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, which Stephanie Lawson has adroitly shown was conceived as a way of reformulating and reinforcing chiefly hierarchy, underwent a swift transformation into something much more egalitarian through the writings of theologians and intellectuals, many of them associated with the University of the South Pacific.

Second, the present day, where the Pacific Way has morphed into a diverse collection
of practices and modes of signification, with a pronounced emphasis on distinguishing
between 'true' and 'spurious' claims to Pacific identity, especially in discourses of
diplomacy and sovereignty. While the notion of 'floating signifier' suggests that it is impossible to provide a definition on which all proponents agree, there is one underlying constant, which is that the Pacific Way has always been equally about what it stands against as opposed to what it stands for. This may help to explain the allusion in my title to Epeli Hau'ofa, whose famous essay 'Our Sea of Islands' was an attempt to shift Pacific Studies away from the politics of despondency and towards the politics of accomplishment and rejuvenation.

## 6-Marc Tabani

### Melanesian socialism: anthropology of a post-colonial illusion

Pacific Way, Melanesian Way, Melanesian Socialism: this ethnicist division, which in the 1970s led to a pan-Pacific vision, the Pacific Way, being complemented by a sub-regional ideology, the Melanesian Way, had all the appearances of a reinvention of the colonial Polynesia/Melanesia divide. While historians, economists and political scientists immediately found it a matter of debate, anthropologists stayed significantly away, focusing on the question of identity politics on national scales. They have focused on traditional ways of life as the basis of national construction (kastomu/Pasin Tumbuna in PNG, Kastom/Kastam in Vanuatu and the Solomons, la Coutume in New Caledonia, Vaka Vanua in Fiji, Fa'a Samoa in Samoa, Peu Maohi in Tahiti, Maoritanga in New Zealand, etc.). The aim of my analysis is twofold: to trace the disappearance of the myth of Melanesian socialism and to analyse the renewed interest of anthropologists in the ways in which national identities can be transcended regionally in the Pacific.

## 7-Serge Tcherkezoff

### Divided societies? The Pacific Way spirit of consensus: Samoa (1962), Aotearoa New Zealand (2018)

The call for a Pacific Way was faced with the division of Fijian society which gained independence and wanted to promote a way of living together : « people of different races, opinions and cultures, can live and work together for the good of all ». This goal requires admitting the following. From a holistic, or Maussian one could say, sociological
point of view, there is no such thing as a « divided society »: it is a contradiction in terms.
If there is 'society', there is necessarily a level of value that refers to the whole of that
society, where the unity of living together makes sense to everyone. But, of course, any
unity implies that somewhere - I prefer to say less vaguely: "at a lower level of value"
- there is room for distinctions, divisions, fragmentations. In this sense, and contrary to
what I have just said, there is no society that is not 'divided', if only by what we call
social classes, not to mention ethnic or geographical divisions in the population. But
there is or will be a society if and only if there is a level of value that makes a totality,
is recognised as a link of belonging, and that, as a result, has the capacity to include
(encompass in the strong sense) the level where the divisions are deployed. I will briefly
recall what the strategy was in the 1950s in preparation for the independence of what
would be the state of Samoa, acquired in 1962.

Finally, I will discuss how these questions are being asked today in Aotearoa New Zealand

8-Elisabeth Worliczek

Pacific Island universities in the past, present, and future: the potential for a Pacific Way forward University education has always been a key to upward social mobility in the Pacific Islands.

Over the last decades, a number of universities have emerged across the Pacific
Islands and proved to be accessible key institutions for the Islands' citizens. This brought
a democratisation of education, as the previous generations relied almost exclusively
on scholarships and had to go abroad for higher education. These Pacific universities
were created under different circumstances, with different actors and with different
supporters and objectives. While long-established institutions such as the University of
the South Pacific are currently under scrutiny, new universities (such as the University of
Vanuatu) emerge as new players in the field. Regardless their age or challenges, these
institutions are important as they also allow to develop curricula that can be framed
locally and that correspond to the need of locally trained skilled graduates, while at
the same time striving to be internationally recognised institutions. This paper explores
the possibilities and possible futures that have emerged out of a pacific way in higher
education, with a special emphasis on collaboration between universities and the
relationships with other parts of the world.

Sovereignties

9- Gonzaga Puas

Is Micronesia Free Under the Weight of the Compact of Free Association?

My paper will discuss the underlying issues experienced by the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM) under the Compact of Free Association (Compact) over the last 35 years. It will do so by reviewing the economic, social, constitutional, and political debate affecting its development and its future-outlook. It will then present its answer in relation to the topical question: are the FSM free under the weight of the Compact of Free Association between the US and the FSM?

10-lati lati

The Implications of 21st Century Geopolitical Competition on the “Pacific Way”

The recent signing of the Solomon Islands-China security agreement, and visits to the Pacific by Chinese, Australian, and American high-level delegations signal a long-expected elevation in competition between outside powers over the region. These developments occur in the larger context of rising international geopolitical confrontation, particularly between the North American Treaty Organization (NATO) and major Eurasian powers: Russia and China. This paper examines the implications of this geopolitical competition on key aspects of the “Pacific way”: respect for individual country sovereignty; regionalism; strengthening relations between Pacific island countries. Up until the mid-1980s, the Pacific way entailed respect for the sovereignty of Pacific island countries. However, pressure from major Western aid donors like Australia and New Zealand meant that external involvement and interference became more common. The Pacific Islands Forum (PIF) was intended to decolonize regionalism, but throughout the past several decades, Australia and New Zealand have exercised disproportionate influence in this organization. From the independence period to about
the 2000s, relations between Pacific island countries (PICs) and former colonial powers have, in many respects, become neo-colonial. Since the 2010s, this situation started to change as Pacific island countries have found greater agency both individually and at the regional level with the development of policies such as the Blue Pacific narrative and the Boe Declaration. Is there a correlation between this change and the increasing presence of China in the Pacific? And, if so, what are the implications for the future?

Specifically, the paper will address the following issues. First, how has China's rising influence on regional geopolitical issues affected the sovereignty and autonomy of Pacific island countries?

Moreover, is China's involvement in Pacific geopolitics likely to give PICs greater individual and regional autonomy, as envisioned in the "Pacific way"? Second, has and will China's presence affect the disproportionate influence exercised by Western countries in regionalism? Since the first major regional organization, the Pacific Community (formerly the South Pacific Commission), regionalism has been dominated by Western countries, in particular Australia and New Zealand, and this has extended to institutions formed by and for PICs themselves. However, ten Pacific island countries now have diplomatic relations with China, instead of Taiwan, and China has moved to strengthen regional cooperation between these. What are the implications of these moves for regionalism, and in particular the pre-eminent regional organization, the PIF? Finally, how might China's increasing presence in the Pacific affect relations between the PICs?

## 11- Jon Fraenkel

### The "Pacific Way", Traditional Hierarchy and Democracy in Fiji, Tonga and Sāmoa

The "Pacific Way" has variously been conceived as an authentically regional approach to the management of domestic and international affairs or, alternatively, as an elite project elevating tradition as an obstacle to greater democratization. The latter view was most comprehensively advanced in Stephanie Lawson's 1996 book, *Tradition Versus Democracy in the South Pacific*, which focused on Fiji, Tonga and Samoa and on the allegedly reactionary role played by the chiefly hierarchy in those three countries. This paper also focuses on those three countries and asks whether class-
based interpretations of elites manipulating tradition to their own advantage make
sense of what subsequently ensued. In Tonga, major elite-orchestrated reforms in 2010
diminished the powers of the monarchy. In Samoa, a universal franchise was introduced
in 1990 and the powers of the tama'aiga (paramount chiefs) were diminished over time.
In Fiji, the 1987 coup proved only the first of three illegal overthrows of governments.
Ironically, it was not a popular insurrection that carried forward the 1980s reformist
project, but – after the 2006 coup – the Republic of Fiji Military Forces (RFMF). It did
so not as the agent of democratization but as its antithesis. In the process, the RFMF
also abolished the Great Council of Chiefs. The paper finds fault with solely narrative-
interpretative treatments of the contemporary history of Fiji, Tonga and Samoa and
advances the case for a political economy approach.

12- Tamatoa Bambridge, Paul D'Arcy, Alexander Mawyer, Bernard Rigo

The Pacific Way and the New Sovereignty in Oceania

Fifty years after the formula launched by Sir Kamisese Mara, the “Pacific way”,
understood as an Oceanian way of solving problems by consensus, has apparently
eroded considerably: lack of consensus on matters of regional interest, separatist
warfare, ethnic tensions, non-respect of customs related to the transfer of power within
the Forum, etc.

The gap between the practices of state elites in the Pacific and those of local
populations has never been so wide in the past 50 years. However, this paper defends
the idea that the "Pacific way" is even more relevant at a time of global change
and the internationalisation of conflicts. First of all, in line with E. Hau'ofa, this article
questions the register of analysis. The state conception of sovereignty in use since
independence, which for a long time structured a Westphalian and ethnicist vision of
social relations, is opposed to a sociological approach in which sovereignty is primarily
constructed through exchanges and social relations. However, the recognition of
this Oceanian sovereignty anchored in culture and an identity linked to Fenua (land
and sea) is a prerequisite for an economy of consensus as promoted by S. Kamisese
Mara. In this paper we will discuss a whole series of contemporary consequences of
this change of perspective.
## 13-George Carter

### In search of the Pacific Way Consensus.

How is consensus achieved in the most culturally and geographical diverse region in the world? Consensus is not just a value of the Pacific Way, it is also the preferred mode of conducting decision making in Pacific regionalism. In particular, at the Pacific Islands

Forum Leaders Meeting for the past 50 years. This paper explores the processes of consensus decision making by states, leaders and their diplomats in contemporary Pacific regional politics. As a meeting procedure, consensus is a transactional process of negotiations where parties do not necessarily reach an agreement, but rather agree not to disagree.

However consensus is also contextual, that is regional consensus is constructed from societal forms of decision making like soalaupule and wantokism and regional approaches like PacificWay and Melanesian Way. This paper examines the role of culture and relationship in the building and maintenance of regional consensus decision making.

## 14-Jean-Paul Pastorel

### The French Pacific collectivities in the concert of nations

What international agreements for the French Overseas Collectivities of the Pacific?

The three French COMs in the Pacific are closely involved in the construction of regional dialogue and are integrated into regional institutions in the same way. This presentation will recall the context of the France-Oceania summits, inaugurated in 2003, and present the current place of the three COMs in regional organisations, the common points and differences, depending on the status of each of the three COMs, including the latitude that each can exercise in terms of foreign policy.
# Case studies: Vanuatu, Samoa-New Zealand, New Caledonia, French Polynesia

## Vanuatu

### 15-Jean-Paul Nirua

#### The Search for a National Identity Claim alongside the Pacific Way through the Emergence of National Universities of the Pacific: The Case of the National University of Vanuatu

Two years after the fortieth anniversary of its independence, the process of emergence of the first National University of Vanuatu, which has the particularity of offering courses in French and English, constitutes a unique and singular opportunity to rebalance Francophonie in a minority context through its institutionalisation at university level.

Through the promotion of bilingualism and multilingualism, the new university represents a symbolic force for national unity and social cohesion in order to achieve the vision of a "stable, sustainable and prosperous" Vanuatu as envisaged in the Sustainable National Development Plan 2016-2030. The unanimous agreement of the political class when the bill was passed in December 2019 might suggest that the project is not controversial. However, the establishment of a bilingual English-French higher education system is also the subject of pessimism for some and criticism for others who continue to question, in particular, the inclusion of Bislama and vernacular languages. This presentation will first review the genesis of the UNV through a preliminary study of the evolution of higher education in the small Pacific island states, then present the steps that led Vanuatu to develop the project of creating its national university in response to the need for a claim of identity and an assertion of national evolution and maturity, and finally analyse the stakes that this represents in societal, linguistic, political and economic terms at the national and regional levels. The challenge of developing the UNV goes beyond the early years of its establishment, and is to ensure that Vanuatu masters its own thinking by training its own national elites who also wish to become Pacific citizens.
## 16-Tuvalu Fonomaaitu

The Pacific Way: O au o matua fanau, the case for Pacific children and young people in Aotearoa New Zealand.

The idea of « Pacific Way » was and remains a means of finding ways to build a shared future for communities, beyond historical divisions. I will present the case of Aotearoa New Zealand from the specific perspective of our national policy about childrens' well-being, implemented by my Ministry Oranga Tamariki, "Ministry for Children » where I worked as Principal Advisor Pacific.

Child protection, children's rights, is the possibility and even the duty of society to intervene in cases of family abuse, whereby any members of the public, schools and health professions can make allegations that potentially lead to an investigation process by a government statutory agency. The right given to the Ministry to remove a child from his or her family in serious cases is directed by the Oranga Tamariki Act 1989. This is a familiar legal and social landscape in other Western countries. But in New Zealand and elsewhere in countries of the Pacific region, these values are linked to the right conferred on every individual, from his or her earliest years, have to enter into a dialogue with a so-called 'traditional' vision or world-view of the « family », or « clan », aiga in Samoan, established certainly in the Polynesian region, and perhaps throughout Oceania. What we call the family is also or even primarily a clan, with its hierarchies of status and age, and where the child is not supposed to express a point of view before a certain, variable age. A well-known expression in Samoa for the very general term 'a disobedient child' literally means 'a child who speaks up too early for his age' (tautalaitiiti). As a Principal Advisor Pacific for the Ministry of Children, specifically responsible for the interaction between the state and 'Pacific' communities in New Zealand, an interaction that encompass the cultural worldviews of Te Ao Māori and Pasefika Peoples, I am directly confronted with this difficult intercultural dialogue, and I will present some examples.
## New Caledonia

### 17-Anthony Tutugoro

**"Community of destiny" or "parallel paths"?**

**The difficult breakthroughs of a Pacific Way unique to New Caledonia.**

If the Nouméa Accord expressed the fundamental wish to establish from above a community of destiny specific to New Caledonia, the speculators of the "living together" goal in 1998 would have reason to be upset today. Indeed, if the Congress of New Caledonia agreed on identity signs such as the anthem, the country's motto or the banknotes, the impossibility of giving a flag and a country name to the archipelago progressively gave clues to the difficulty of concluding this social contract through the advent of a new, national and shared sovereignty. Finally, if Ratu Sir Kamesese Mara's wish was to see a form of Pacific Way become widespread in the Pacific basin and to breathe new life into its archipelagos, New Caledonia, sclerotic as it is by a "Yes" or "No" dichotomy, struggles to engage in a co-constructive approach. Political speeches aiming at convincing one side to vote "Yes" and the other to vote "No", for the period to come after the Nouméa Accord, have conditioned the populations of the archipelago to a strong political division. However, the social bridges exist. For the independentists, the reconciliation and the unification of the communities requires a majority "Yes" in the referendum envisaged by the Nouméa Accord. For the non-independents, decolonisation can and should take place within the State, a superior continental entity, and therefore in a dominant "No".

In the cacophony in which the third referendum consultation (provided for by the Nouméa Accord) was organised, how can a society be formed in New Caledonia? This is the question raised by the whole current antagonism that runs through New Caledonia. We will try to highlight and analyse the possible lines of convergence in the discourse and actions, building a parallel path to a political strategy that leads only to rupture.
**18-Patrice Godin**

**The Kanak Path to Independence**

Born in the 1970s, the Kanak demand for independence is inseparable, in its various political forms, from the desire to build a new society encompassing all the inhabitants of New Caledonia, regardless of the cultural community they belong to. It is also inseparable from a movement to reformulate the Kanak identity itself. It is these two dimensions of the pro-independence movement that we propose to explore, both in their articulation, in their successive reformulations over the past half-century and in their profound and enduring coherence. We will also try to extract some sociological lessons from them. For the anthropologist, a privileged witness of the 'Caledonian' reality, it is difficult not to wonder about the current place of politics in his society.

[French Polynesia](#)

**19-Veronique Dorbe-Larcade**

**Other Ways: Revisiting Major Native Figures of Contact Times (Ahutoru, Hitihiti, Tupaia, Mai)**

At the time of the Contact, figures such as those (well known) of Tupaia, Mai (Omai) or those (less known) of Ahutoru and Hitihiti may have been put "in the foreground", that is to say, they may have been at the forefront at the very moment of contact with the Europeans (but not only: Tupaia in Aotearoa-NZ; Hitihiti in Fenua Enata-Marquises...), but they may also have been the object of particular attention from European sources. My aim is to expose what these sources value (...and possibly distort) and what we can perceive of the inventiveness and adaptability of these characters. I intend to echo the reflections of our Australian colleague Kate Fullagar ("Voyagers from the Havai'i Diaspora..."). We will then evoke the contemporary significance of this valorisation of some great figures of the past.
## 20. Matteo Aria

**In French Polynesia: ending of oblivion and patrimonial authority on the marae of Tapupatuātea**

This presentation will examine some local variations of the so-called Ma'ohi cultural renaissance as it has been defined locally, in relation to the values of the Pacific way ideology. In particular, the analysis will focus on certain specific phenomena of cultural reappropriation and political demands that have taken shape since the large gathering of pirogues in 1995 in Taputapuatea. The perspective that will be presented is based on extensive field research in Tahiti, Raiatea and Tahaa. In particular, I will discuss the reappropriation of certain places of memory - the marae - and traditional practices - such as tattooing, fire walking - and will evoke some characters (cultural mediators) who seem representative of an approach that intends to restore a strong link with the ancestors.

Through the paths of these cultural mediators we will evoke certain developments in the islands of French Polynesia which are gradually leading to the end of the oblivion that has long marked the history and the imagination of these worlds.

## 21-Sandrine Chaillé de Néré

**The Pacific Way and Oceanian civil identities on French soil: Being oneself within another**

The Pacific Way has been thought of mainly in political terms, and therefore, from a legal perspective, in institutional terms. In the case of the French Pacific collectivities, the idea of giving a specific place to overseas populations has been constantly affirmed.

But its expression has always been fraught with ambiguity. Sometimes intended to curb indigenous aspirations while taking for granted an inequality that forbids imposing the same civil rules on these populations as those of the metropolitan population, or later devoted to satisfying a need for autonomy while proclaiming the civil equality of all citizens, the institutional provisions specific to the Oceanian overseas territories are marked by equivocation. In this context, the question of the expression of overseas identities in private law has been blurred or even obscured. It was, however, an
interesting perspective for this other social contract proposed by the Pacific Way. Fifty
years later, what has become of French civil law's respect for Oceanian identities? Has
the Pacific Way found expression in social relations under private law? Certain inter-
individual legal relationships (family or economic) can flourish under rules other than
those of the Metropole. Does this mean that the culture, social structures and ways of
life of the French populations of the Pacific can legally flourish? Has a balance been
found in the French legal system that allows each person to be themselves while living
a common destiny?

22- Vincent Dropsy & Sylvain Petit

Regional Economic Integration and The Pacific Way

The "2050 Strategy for the Blue Pacific Continent" has been recently endorsed by the Pacific Islands Forum leaders in July 2022 to reaffirm their desire to deepen Pacific regionalism through collective action. Several regional trade agreements (PACER, SPARTECA, PICTA, MGS-TA, PACER+) have been signed to improve economic integration in the Pacific. Yet, trade flows between small island developing states (SIDS) are still very small relative to their economic and financial ties with more powerful partners. This chapter argues that economic and geostrategic forces explain these patterns, because of their common characteristics and challenges, and despite their common values and visions for a Pacific Way.

23- Christian Montet & Véronique Selinsky

The compatibility of anti-trust law with the “Pacific Way”

In its broadest sense, the term “Pacific Way” is used to characterise a behaviour
that favours the search for compromise, consensus and flexibility. In business life, this
approach, which is linked to cultural traits observed in Pacific island societies, is likely
to favour cooperation between companies, friendly sharing of markets, and ultimately
agreements that the usual antitrust rules qualify as anti-competitive.

The adoption of antitrust law by several small Pacific island states and territories has
not been as successful as expected, perhaps due to insufficient consideration of the
compatibility of these rules with the Pacific Way. Most countries still lack effective
competition laws, and the authorities in Fiji and Papua New Guinea have remained
largely inactive, focusing on price regulation tasks. As for the entities belonging to the
French Republic (New Caledonia and French Polynesia), after six years of existence
they have only a meagre track record of prosecuting cartels.

Antitrust law, based on its three pillars (sanctioning cartels, sanctioning abuses of dominant positions and controlling mergers), remains essential to the dynamism of these economies. How can we meet the challenge of reconciling its application with the cultural heritage of the Pacific peoples?

Basically, local populations and decision-makers must be allowed to appropriate
the rules. This can be facilitated by: 1) a clear definition of the mission entrusted to
the independent authority in charge of applying the law, in particular by avoiding
entrusting it with ancillary missions outside the field of antitrust; 2) entrusting this task
to personnel with an in-depth knowledge of the economic and social life of the small
Pacific island countries;

3) implementing simplified procedures and negotiated solutions, both in line with
local dispute resolution methods and the international procedural trend; 4) seeking
solutions appropriate to the market conditions of the small Pacific islands, avoiding
the mechanical transposition of external decision-making practices relating to very
different economies

## 24-Semir Al Wardi

### The Pacific Way in French Polynesia: public and private views, past and recent

The concept of the Pacific Way is frequently used in Oceania. This article proposes to show that this concept is fundamental to the Oceanian imagination because it touches on identity, self-image and the story that Oceanians tell themselves about themselves. It should be remembered that this narrative prescribes an internal and international consensus between Oceanians alone. Nevertheless, the Pacific Way seems more like a utopia and a myth. Utopia, because the proliferation of violent conflicts is a reality. A myth, because the major powers are involved in regional organisations in Oceania, taking advantage of the many weaknesses of the small island states and territories.
In 1970, Fijian Prime Minister Ratu Mara extolled the virtues of the “Pacific way” before the General Assembly of the United Nations, a culture supposedly shared by all Oceanians and a specific means of achieving independence for the Pacific states. With all that it could evoke - from the reminiscences of Senghor's negritude to the third way of the non-aligned countries at the height of the Cold War. A pacifism of the Pacific in the face of the rise of communism in the region, in a way.

Originally from Strasbourg, this concept also reminds me of the thoughts of the German Romantics in the 19th century, who were in favour of German unity at a time when the territory of what was to become Germany was still divided into a multitude of kingdoms. Theorists such as Johan Herder, in Another Philosophy of History, called for these divisions to be transcended and for the German “national genius” to be enhanced. History is made up of invariants, it seems. The sacralisation of cultures to forge a collective identity and encourage joint action would bear witness to this.

In the case of the “Pacific Way”, the formula reflects a commitment to a consensual approach to internal affairs and a desire to resolve regional problems by keeping oneself to oneself in the face of possible intervention by non-Oceanic powers (I). I also note the ambiguity of the Anglo-Saxon idiom. The “Pacific Way”, both the peaceful way and the voice of the Pacific. In the early days of independence, the challenge was to promote a sense of common belonging among populations of extreme linguistic and cultural diversity. It is no coincidence that this concept was promoted by the Prime Minister of a country where half the population was made up of Indian immigrant workers during the 19th century.

The underlying political philosophy is that there is a social contract specific to Pacific cultures that anthropologists such as Marshall Sahlins - who sadly passed away last year - have never ceased to uncover. A social contract based on a sense of moderation and a consummate art of compromise.
In any case, the existence of a cultural heritage common to the Oceanic peoples seems to be attested. In his recent book *The Dawn of Everything*, the anthropologist David Graeber rightly points out that the early spread of archaic Austronesian culture from Taiwan and the Philippines and of the Lapita civilisation to almost all the Pacific islands in the second half of the second millennium BC was the last major colonisation of an area previously uninhabited by man. Traces of this passage, of this shared cultural substratum, are still very much alive.

The challenge is considerable. Sharing common values and the same way of being in the world within the wider Oceania region also makes it possible to establish a solidarity of principle between the heirs of a shared historical legacy and affirms the existence of a collective interest. The work of leading economists - I am thinking here of the research of Edward Miguel of the University of Berkeley - has shown that the existence of organic solidarity within a community of values is likely to increase the interpersonal trust of its members and enhance the efficiency of public policies by reducing transaction costs.

The concept of the "Pacific Way" is not axiologically neutral, however, and has been criticised by a number of intellectuals as a discourse that the emerging elites of the Pacific countries would have addressed to themselves (II). The fraternity invoked was more ideological than real, and applied more to a minority of leaders than to a majority of islanders whose horizons were still limited to the district to which they belong. It would provide elements of identification with an abstract regional space, with a mythologised historical identity, and would meet a need for political legitimisation. To quote Barthes on Japan, the "Pacific Way" is in fact "a reserve of features whose playfulness and invented playfulness allow us to flatter the idea of an unheard-of symbolic system". It would therefore constitute a cultural reification, a useful fiction, similar to that put forward by Edward Saïd in his book *L'Orientalisme*. It's not for me to decide this debate, and I'll leave that to the researchers present at this venue.

In any case, this supposed ideological proximity is coupled with formalised regional integration (III). There are now many regional organisations. We have just celebrated fifty years of the Pacific Islands Forum based in Suva, Fiji. Created in 1947, the Pacific Community brings together the English- and French-speaking territories of the region in a single forum for discussion. Although the Pacific Islands Forum quickly took on a more
political essence, reserving access to independent countries, these two organisations
are the annual meeting places for the island political authorities, encouraging the
expression of the "Pacific Way", which promotes a common regional interest.

These communities have deepened. Regional initiatives on emergencies, adaptation, mitigation and knowledge sharing have multiplied within the PIF, the Secretariat of the Pacific Community (SPC), the Melanesian Spearhead Group and the Secretariat of the Pacific Environment Programme. I am also thinking of the Alliance of Small Island States.

Nevertheless, today the consensual ideal seems to be in jeopardy (IV). Oceanian solidarity with the great powers was perhaps more often proclaimed and desired than achieved in practice. Yesterday, when Kiribati signed fishing agreements with the Soviet Union. Today, when the Solomon Islands have just signed a security agreement with the People's Republic of China. When Nauru, Kiribati, Tonga and the Cook Islands each sponsored an exploration project validated by the International Seabed Authority, even though the Pacific Islands Forum had called for a ten-year moratorium in 2019. The community of values has sometimes been supplanted by the expression of national priorities.

Beyond that, what would be the embodiment of this 'Pacific way' today (V)?

Firstly, the diagnosis made by Ratu Mara 50 years ago is still partly valid. I am thinking here of the attachment to a consensual approach to world affairs. Inter-state conflicts are still rare in the region, suggesting the pre-eminence of the peaceful settlement of disputes, placed at the heart of the United Nations Charter, Article 33 of which calls for solutions to be sought "primarily through negotiation, enquiry, mediation, conciliation, arbitration, judicial settlement, resort to regional agencies or arrangements". While we are witnessing the return of tragedy in Europe and we are reminded of the challenges of collective security, Oceania continues to be spared military conflict. Perhaps this is the Pacific Way.

Secondly, the Pacific Way will be embodied in the challenges facing the countries
and islands of the region. I'm thinking here, of course, of global warming. It is true
that the complex serpentine formations of Papua New Guinea and New Caledonia
will not be affected in the same way as the high volcanic structures of Tahiti and
Rarotonga or the coral atolls of Tuamotu and the Marshall Islands. Since 2001, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has dedicated a chapter to the risks posed by climate change for Small Island Developing States (SIDS). SIDS are threatened by rising sea levels, extreme weather events, rising temperatures and changing rainfall patterns. Rising sea levels (estimated at between 35 and 70 cm by 2100) pose a direct threat to coastal areas and the existence of low-lying islands and atolls (Tuvalu, Kiribati, Marshall Islands). Rising sea levels are compounded by extreme weather phenomena - cyclones, the El-Niño Southern Oscillation - increasing the risk of flooding, erosion and salinization of groundwater. What's more, rising temperatures leading to ocean acidification threaten to cause lasting damage to the coral reef ecosystem on which animal, plant and human life depends.

Rising sea levels can lead to a contraction or extension of maritime territories and can give rise to disputes over maritime boundaries and exclusive economic zones. The 1982 Convention on the Law of the Sea was not designed to deal dynamically with border changes.

In response to this threat, it is my ambition to believe that the Pacific Way, 50 years on, can be translated into concrete leadership on climate issues. Back in 1997, the Tongan intellectual Hau'ofa put forward the hypothesis that regional integration could be based on a common project to protect the Pacific, whose inhabitants would be the "guardians of the ocean". That was his expression. Here too, there is a specific Oceanic dimension. The Pacific has the most marine protected areas in the world. The idea of an ethical responsibility towards the sea, the idea of sustainable governance associating man and the ocean, has been forged by history and constitutes a cultural continuum that runs through the Pacific. It may go by different names - rahui in Polynesia, the tabu zone in Fiji or bul in Palau - but the purpose remains the same. To ensure that solutions based on local traditions and practices contribute to the conservation effort, while at the same time enabling the livelihoods and cultural practices of communities to be sustained.

A few days ago, the Fenua welcomed Olivier Poivre d'Arvor, Ambassador for the Poles and Maritime Issues. He was there at the request of the French President to organise a One Planet Summit for the islands. This summit would be a local version of the recent climate summits organised in mainland France on the initiative of the President. The
aim of the summit is to specifically encourage the various Pacific States to share the solutions, technological or otherwise, that they have found to combat global warming. Polynesia has developed concrete proposals in this area. I'm thinking of the SWAC, which makes it possible to air-condition the Taaone in Pirae and major luxury hotels using cold ocean water. I'm thinking of the solar-powered osmosis plants that make drinking water available in the Tuamotu atolls, which unfortunately have none.

50 years after the Fijian Prime Minister's appeal, we may now have the "Pacific Way". All the countries of the Pacific pooling their resources and ideas to fight together against a common threat - global warming. A threat against which they are on the front line.

I'd like to conclude by wishing you all a very successful conference.

Thank you very much for your attention.
It is a great privilege to be speaking today at the Pacific Way Conference, which will celebrate its 50th anniversary next year. Many of the participants at that inaugural conference in 1973 went on to become prime ministers or presidents of their countries, or secretaries-general of what is now known as the Pacific Community.

Fifty years of drawing together all spheres of Pacific society – academics, journalists, faith leaders and civil society advocates.

Fifty years of creativity, resilience and leadership.

Fifty years of working together to ensure your voices and perspectives are heard.

It was Sir Michael Somare the PNG Prime Minister who said at the Pacific Islands Forum (PIF) in 1974 -

> PNG acceded to this Forum with the strong desire to contribute and support the Forum Members in the needs of our region. We are not here to rock the boat but add another sail in order that our voyage to that glorious destination may be reached.

And it was Australia's Prime Minister Bob Hawke who said at the PIF in 1984 -

> The task of identifying regional solutions to regional responsibilities is amongst our most important responsibilities.

As a founding member of the PIF Australia has been a part of this journey with you. It is a real honour to be here in French Polynesia for the first time as Australia's Foreign Minister – the 12th Pacific Island country or territory I have visited since the new Australian Government was elected in May. 12 visits since May is an expression of the priority that the new Australian Government attaches to this region. Later today, I will have the pleasure of opening the Australian Consulate-General in Papeete. This now makes Australia the only country in the world with a diplomatic presence in every Pacific Islands Forum member country or territory. There is no clearer demonstration of
Australia's commitment to the Pacific as a whole. As a member of the Pacific family, Australia is committed to working with all in the Pacific to achieve our shared aspirations and address our shared challenges.

At every step we will be guided by Pacific priorities.

Like those articulated in the 2050 Strategy for the Blue Pacific Continent and endorsed by Forum Leaders this year. This strategy is our North Star – or as your ancestors would have navigated, our te Matau a Māui. It is a vision for the Pacific's economic, environmental and strategic future – written by and written for Pacific nations and their people. At its heart is a simple concept: that the Pacific knows best what its priorities are. And that the Pacific knows best how to achieve them.

Our region faces many challenges – PIF leaders have described the triple challenges of climate change, recovery from COVID-19, and strategic contest. The most pressing of these is the existential threat of climate change.

"The single greatest threat to the livelihoods, security and wellbeing of the peoples of the Pacific," as powerfully articulated by the Boe Declaration of 2018.

COVID-19 has set back development gains and contracted economies across the region. Many Pacific economies, like French Polynesia, rely heavily on income from tourism, which shut down during the pandemic or heavily reduced with international border closures. Because the Pacific region was so effective in keeping COVID out, with many countries forced to keep their borders closed for longer, the region has been the slowest to recover in 2022. And the economic recovery is further hampered by global economic volatility, and food security and energy crises driven by Russia's illegal and immoral invasion of Ukraine. The increase in the debt servicing burden will further exacerbate fiscal challenges for Pacific countries. Public debt in the Pacific is expected to almost double by 2025 compared to 2019. This is impacting on the lives of Pacific Island people – on the health, education and social wellbeing of families. We also know that the biggest impacts are felt by the most vulnerable in our communities – particularly women and girls, and people living with a disability. When it comes to climate action, the nations of the Pacific have led the way for a long time. You have called on us to act. We have heard you. And we have responded. We have already enshrined in law our carbon emissions reduction targets of at least 43 per cent by 2030,
and net zero by 2050. Within the decade, 83 per cent of Australia's energy supply will be renewable. And we want to bid to co-host a future UN Conference of the Parties with Pacific Island countries, who have led the way for so long, and who have so much to lose in a warming planet. That's what we're doing at home, but we are also boosting our support for the Pacific region to address the climate emergency and achieve their development goals.

And so today, I am pleased to announce that in the Australian Government's budget, which will be released next Tuesday, we will increase our total Overseas Development Assistance Budget by AUD$1.4 billion over the next four years. This includes AUD$900m of additional development assistance to the Pacific over the next four years. This additional assistance will directly support action in the region to strengthen climate resilience, including on climate science and renewable energy. We know how important regional funding is to all Forum members, including French Polynesia, and how this additional assistance will benefit the region as a whole. It will ensure we continue to provide direct budget support to reduce fiscal distress, ensuring critical government services such as health and education continue to be delivered. Restoring connectivity across the region through aviation links is critical to the pandemic recovery and through this additional assistance we will continue to facilitate the movement of people and goods around the region. We know investing in women and girls has a powerful effect on economic growth and wellbeing. Which is why the Australian Government will restore the target of 80 per cent of all Australian ODA to address gender-based issues. At the broader level, we are supporting Pacific economies to grow, unlock opportunities and boost connectivity to priority sectors. This includes increased support for infrastructure in the Pacific and Timor-Leste through the Australian Infrastructure Financing Facility for the Pacific (AIFFP). This Facility will grow from $3.5 Billion to $4 Billion to support grant and loan packages and there is additional funds to strengthen project and risk management capabilities.

We are also increasing our investment in climate-related infrastructure and promoting climate-smart enhancements, through the Pacific Climate Infrastructure Financing Partnership. We recognise that as a major lender in the region, we have a responsibility to ensure that Australia is a partner that won't impose unsustainable debt burdens. This is why, amidst global economic headwinds and rising interest rates, Australia will offer
concessional lending and grant assistance to ensure Pacific partners can continue to deliver sustainable and transparent infrastructure projects that meet international standards. We will continue to work with partners like the IMF, ADB and World Bank to support productive, quality assets built and maintained with local content and labour. These new steps are in addition to our commitments to expand and improve our labour mobility programs with participating Pacific countries and Timor-Leste. And our commitment to establish an Australia-Pacific Defence School and to double the aerial surveillance component of the Pacific Maritime Security Program to help tackle illegal, unreported, and unregulated fishing.

So, we will look to you, and our other Pacific partners, as we work towards achieving these priorities. French Polynesia's leadership on protecting our oceans is just one example of the way you, and other Pacific nations, have used your voice and lived experience to shape the global debate. Our region can navigate our shared challenges best when we do it together, through organisations like the Pacific Islands Forum, the Pacific Community and technical agencies. Unified, strong and inclusive Pacific regional organisations like the PIF are critical to maintaining and strengthening Pacific regionalism.

Together, the Forum family has made great strides on the pathway to unity across the region. We are all sovereign nations and territories, but we freely come together through organisations like the PIF to solve problems together. To build a region that is peaceful, prosperous and resilient. Where the sovereignty of nations, large and small, is respected. Where the responsibility for Pacific security remains in the hands of the Pacific.

I also acknowledge the vital contribution that France makes in support of Pacific priorities. As a Pacific country, France has a stake in the peace and prosperity of the Pacific and brings a unique understanding of the region. It is a voice for – an advocate for – the Pacific, including by providing leadership on Pacific issues within the EU. As with all of Australia's partners, we will continue to work with France to advance our shared Pacific priorities.

We demonstrated this most recently following the volcanic eruption and tsunami in Tonga in January this year. Alongside the Pacific partners, France, Australia and New Zealand coordinated our essential humanitarian support through the FRANZ
Agreement, which has just marked its 30th year of combined cooperation in humanitarian assistance and disaster relief. We are also working with other groups, such as Partners in the Blue Pacific, an inclusive group founded by Australia, Japan, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States. The Partners will work with the Pacific Islands Forum and its members to pool our collective strengths to back the 2050 Strategy and Pacific priorities. As with all of our work, Pacific Island priorities and interests will be at the heart of what we do in the region.

We share an ocean, but more than that, we share values.

We share dreams.

And we share a future.

The connections we share across our communities, our families and our cultures – forged and strengthened by institutions like the University of French Polynesia – are central to how we envisage our partnerships with the countries of the Pacific. We have seen this with our Australia Awards and Australia Awards Pacific Scholars, who build networks between their home nations and Australia, and throughout our region. Australia is a better place thanks to the contributions of Pacific diaspora – whether in the arts, business, agriculture, social services, academia, or sport. These connections stretch back through time. The peoples of the Torres Strait Islands in Northern Australia in particular share particularly close cultural and historical links to the Pacific. As the home of the oldest continuous culture in the world and over 300 different ancestries, we want to share the full story of Australia with the Pacific – starting with our First Nations perspectives and experiences. At home, we are continuing the journey of reconciliation with First Nations Australians and are seeking to enshrine an Indigenous Voice to Parliament. And we will appoint Australia's inaugural First Nations Ambassador, who will be a frequent visitor to the Pacific and will foster cooperation between First Nations and Pacific communities in areas such as health security, environmental management and climate change.

The future we share together is bright. And we will be stronger and more resilient when we face our shared challenges together.

Thank you for having me here today as we work. Guided by the Pacific way. Guided by the wisdom of Pacific voices. To build the Pacific of the future, together.
# M. Edouard FRITCH

## President of French polynesia

The "Pacific Way" is historically a phrase coined by Sir Ratu Mara, Prime Minister of Fiji, in the early 1970s. His phrase is based on a play on words, on the double meaning of "Pacific Way", which can mean either "in the Pacific way, in the Oceanian way" or "in a peaceful way, without conflict".

The concept therefore emphasises the primacy of dialogue and consensus-building to resolve all problems "peacefully, in the Oceanian way", taking its time, the time needed for reflection, the time needed to make the right decision.

After 50 years, have we kept this spirit of dialogue and consensus?

Through our international encounters, I can see that Oceanians do not have the same vision or the same appreciation of the facts and events of the world as what we commonly call "Westerners". I can see that Oceanians have a particular sensitivity in the way they see and observe situations. I can see that their approach to the present and the future, and therefore to time, may be different from that of the major countries.

In terms of values, the West bears the legacy of Human Rights, with Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. The Pacific, on the other hand, is less steeped in this European history. The values that bind our island communities together are those of Solidarity, Cohesion, Fraternity and Peace.

***

Moreover, dialogue and consensus-building are practices that exist in most Pacific communities.

Within the Pacific Forum, this is the case. It is a sacred rule. When certain decision-makers try to deviate from the rule of consensus, they are called to order and the subject of debate, a source of potential division, is postponed to another date.
Again at the Forum, in order to give themselves the best chance of reaching a consensus, the leaders alone, without their colleagues, isolate themselves and go on a one-day retreat. This is what the Forum calls "the leaders retreat" in its agenda.

This day enables each leader to be in a better position to make concessions and accept compromises, without the influence of their teams.

Again recently, this practice of consensus came into full play in the organisation of the USA-Pacific summit in Washington. The leaders of the Forum, led by the President of Fiji, Bainimarama, spontaneously demanded that the US executive invite all 18 members of the Forum. The White House accepted the Forum members' condition.

This recent example shows that the quest for unity and consensus is still very much alive. In this case, it makes it possible to feel stronger when there are several of us together, and to be united in international talks and negotiations.

Consensus, as practised within the Forum, has a virtue both internally in terms of maintaining cohesion, and externally in terms of feeling stronger.

****

Today, in the multilateral discussions led by the leaders, the Pacific is united around a common set of issues. These include the consequences of climate change;

* preserving ocean resources;

* surveillance of our respective EEZs;

* common health pathologies such as obesity, arboviral disease, etc;

* renewable energy production;

* treatment of modern consumer waste such as plastic;

* regional international transport.

In other words, we take advantage of our smallness to unite, speak with one voice and stand firm against those bigger than us. It's a form of the Pacific Way.

The countries of the Pacific are looking for partnerships with major countries capable of providing us with solutions or supporting us on these issues that affect the daily lives
of our populations. Eliminating our waste and being less dependent on fossil fuels are
everyday concerns.

I'd like to stress that seeking partnerships does not mean pledging allegiance.

The Pacific countries, united within the Pacific Forum, want to work with all the major countries of the world. The driving force behind international relations is the triptych of "cooperation, partnership and development". And we're doing it well. The very recent dialogue between the world's smallest countries and the world's largest in Washington is proof of this. We are trying to transform our apparent weakness, which stems from our small size, into opportunities and assets thanks to our unity. Although we may appear to be small island territories, we are in reality, all together with a Pacific way of thinking, one great ocean continent.

*****

As far as Polynesia is concerned, dialogue is one of our methods. It's in our DNA.
Consensus is sought, even desired, but it is not a necessary or obligatory condition.

In Polynesia, we have incorporated majority rule, which is less blocking than the consensus rule, and in any case, quicker. Yes, faster, quicker.

This change in our mindset, to go faster and faster, has taken us away from the Pacific Way to some extent.

Personally, I prefer the Pacific Way, which requires more listening, more in-depth and more rewarding dialogue, and ultimately more appropriate solutions.

Moreover, thanks to Autonomy, French Polynesia is itself. This original statutory framework fundamentally respects our culture, our identity and our languages.

As a result, we express ourselves and speak to our friends in the Pacific and to the world with our Oceanian soul, with our sensitivity, with our convictions. We can do this thanks to Autonomy, and we must do it because we are first and foremost Oceanians.

*****

And finally, as a country linked to France, Polynesia is de facto part of the Indo-Pacific.
Does the Pacific Way have a place in this axis?
The Pacific Way, as I have just said, is a state of mind, a method, an operating mode.

The Indo-Pacific Axis is a political vision that France and Europe want to share with the countries of the region. This Axis will only have meaning and reality in the Pacific if France and Europe support our countries in the major issues common to the Pacific that I have just mentioned.

President Biden's invitation to Washington was a step in this direction. The same will be true when President Macron organises an extraordinary One Planet Summit dedicated to island countries, here in Polynesia in 2023.

The Indo-Pacific Axis must be an axis of solutions for our small countries and island states. Good solutions will always find a consensual welcome with our friends in the Pacific.

Thank you very much.
# The Pacific Way's *longue durée*: Past Lessons for Pacific Futures from Pacific Regional Networks

Paul D'Arcy

Professor at the Australian National University, Department of Pacific Affairs,
Coral Bell School of Asia Pacific Affairs,
College of Asia and the Pacific, DPA, CAP

While Spain established an imperial toehold in the Mariana Islands in the far northeast of the Pacific Islands, most Pacific polities and societies continued to evolve according to indigenous priorities in this period. Trade and other inter-island interactions were among these priorities. As well as extending potential resource bases, these networks fulfilled key social and political objectives that saw them emphasized and maintained even in circumstances of local self-sufficiency. Long voyages between archipelagos were still undertaken in several areas after 1770. Regular voyaging occurred between the Society Islands and Tuamotus in central Eastern Polynesia, between Tonga, Sāmoa and Fiji in Western Polynesia, and between the coral islands of the Western Caroline Islands and their mountainous high island neighbours in Micronesia. Local traditions, the distribution of cultural traits, and observations by literate outsiders all attest to inter-island voyaging within most archipelagos (Kirch 2002, D; Arcy 2006). The remarkable logistical capacity of these numerically small, largely consensus-based Pacific communities, and the geographical extent of these trading and other exchanges challenge world history literature still dominated by the false perception that enduring ocean voyaging required sophisticated organisation built upon the requestioning of significant national resources by a centralised state apparatus.

## Tahiti and its Wider Regional Networks 1500 CE-1800 CE

As an historian of the Pacific, it is highly appropriate that we gather on Tahiti to celebrate The Pacific Way 50 Years On and consider its present manifestation, as well as future needs and prospects. I have just completed editing a two-volume history of the Pacific for Cambridge University Press. Europeans figure only at the end of volume one as
this work reveals a Pacific world vastly more expansive than portrayed in standard
textbooks. This Pacific world is more expansive both in the range of indigenous sources
utilised and in geographical extent. Tahiti is closer to the geographical centre of this
true Pacific world than the usual geographical middle point of most maps centred on
Fiji, Tonga and Samoa. Far from being isolated on the eastern margins of the Pacific
world, Tahiti was a central gathering place, linked to other gathering places across
the Pacific through sophisticated, multifaceted communications infrastructure and
diplomatic protocols primarily involving consent, shared identity and mutual benefit
rather than coercion.

Much recent historical research on eastern Polynesian navigation and voyaging routes
has focused on the testimony of the Tahitian priest and navigator Tupaia who named
seventy-four islands for Captain James Cook in the late 1700s. Tupaia accompanied
Cook when he left Tahiti and voyaged to a number of Pacific destinations beyond the
normal sailing range of Tahitian and other eastern Polynesian seafarers. Europeans
divided the Pacific into three cultural-geographical zones that coincided with
differences they perceived in appearance. Micronesia stretched from Palau to Kiribati
in the northwest Pacific, while the south Pacific was divided into Melanesia west of Fiji
and Polynesia east of Fiji. The only Polynesian groups not referred to by Tupaia seem
to have been Aotearoa (the Māori name for modern day New Zealand), Hawai'i,
and the Gambier Group. However, a recent in-depth study of Tahitian navigation by
a Tahitian expert, the late Jean-Claude Teriierooiterai outlined Tahitian navigational
paths to Hawai'i. Tupaia conceded that he had only visited nine islands in the Society
Group, the volcanic island of Meheti'a 110 km east of Tahiti, Rurutu 570 km to the
southeast in the Austral Islands, and 'Manua'. Anthropologist Greg Dening believed
that Tupaia's Manua is the small Cook Island atoll of Manuae, three days' sail northeast
of Rurutu. Others claim that it refers to Manu'a in Sāmoa. Historian Niel Gunson notes
that the chiefly families of Manu'a and the Cook Islands were linked by marriage. The
remaining islands were part of the pool of navigational knowledge remembered and
passed down between generations of navigators (Henry, 1928, Teriierooiterai, 2013,
pp. 206-207, 318-320, 324-329, Gunson, 1997, pp. 142-144).

Tupaia's chart is a small component of the vast corpus of eastern Polynesian navigational
lore and traditions on inter-island contacts and alliances available in historical sources
or retained and transmitted by Tahitian experts through to the present. This knowledge
reveals an expansive, connected world centred on the Society Islands, or more
correctly, centred on the Taputapuatea Marae on the island of Ra'aitea, the religious
centre of the eastern Polynesian world by the 1500-1800 CE period under review.
Ra'iatea is 234km northeast of Tahiti. Regular trade exchanges and political alliances
and social exchanges took place within and between a number of archipelagos in
the region, forming a coherent, known world of shared knowledge. That world centred
on the Society Islands. Tahiti is the southernmost island of the Society group whose
northernmost island, Motu One, is 579 km to the northeast. This extended cultural world
measured 2554km from Rarotonga in the southeast to Nuku Hiva in the northwest and
2198 km from Motu One in the northeast to Mangareva in the southwest. It consisted of
the Cook Islands 1155 km southeast of Tahiti, the Austral Islands 570 km south of Tahiti,
the 1450 km long Tuamotu Archipelago composed entirely of atolls beginning 339 km
northwest of Tahiti and ending near to the Gambier group centred on Mangareva 1619
southwest of Tahiti. The western limits of this area are marked by the Tuamotuan atoll
of Reao, 1384 km from Tahiti and the Marquesan group 1399 km northwest of Tahiti.
Although the Marquesan Islands and Gambier Islands were relatively isolated from the
rest of this wider cultural world in the period under review, they were not totally so. A
nineteenth century collection of traditional knowledge collected in the nineteenth
century by Tahitian scholar Teuira Henry also recorded navigational chants referring
to Pitcairn Island, 2310km southwest of Tahiti, and Aotearoa, 3791km southeast of
Tahiti, although both were not part of the tropical eastern Polynesian world 1500-1800
CE. Recent human genetic evidence from this Tahiti-centred region suggests cultural
interaction occurred between this world and what is now modern-day Colombia and
Ecuador around 1200 CE (Ioannidis et al, 2020).

Mountainous high island communities and nearby coral island communities regularly
exchanged specialist manufactures. Tuamotu atoll dwellers traded pearls, pearl
shell, turtles and dog fur and mats for Society archipelago high island products. Food
items were also exchanged between mountainous high islands despite their relatively
greater resource base. The chiefs of Tahiti procured parakeet feathers and canoes
from Leeward Islands such as Ra'iatea, yams from neighbouring Moorea and Huahine.
Regular exchanges were also made with Taha'a and Borabora, with Tahitian tapa
exchanged for those islands' prized manufacture, bamboos filled with coconut oil. Just
as in Fiji and Sāmoa, Tahitians conducted largescale visits between communities and islands that might take one year to plan and last months. These reinforced community ties on islands, and chiefly political alliances between districts and islands. Traditions record chiefly family links between the Society, Austral, Tuamotu and Cook Islands, and occasional recent resettlement of communities from one island chain to another. The English beachcomber Morrison for example noted that the high-status Tamatoa chiefly line connected Tubuai in the Australs to Ra'iatea. Indeed, Captain James Cook noted that the great families of Tahiti, Mo'orea, Huahine, Bora Bora and Ra'iatea were all related (Lewthwaite, 1966, p. 48, 51, Oliver, 1974, vol. 1, pp. 343-348).

Perhaps the most compelling traditional evidence of inter-island links across a vast expanse of eastern Polynesia is the sacred marae network centered on the region's preeminent marae - Taputaputapu at Opoa on Ra'iatea. Just as the Society Islands were at the heart of a vast trade and navigation network encompassing the southern Cooks, the Austral Islands and Tuamotu, Taputapuatea was linked to other marae across the Society Islands and beyond, both during the time of Ta'aroa and during the time of 'Oro's ascension. For example, the marae contained sacred marae stones from the Cook Islands. It was initially the most prestigious marae for the cult of Ta'aroa and it maintained its centrality during the emergence of the new religious sect dedicated to the god of war 'Oro, which came to dominate the Society Islands, supplanting the previous dominant god Ta 'aroa. Unique to the Society Islands was the Arioi society associated with the worship of the ascendant god 'Oro, and drawn from all ranks of society across the archipelago. Arioi touring groups of up to 700 people toured the islands entertaining host communities with dances, songs, plays and social satire. The missionary Thomson dated the arrival of the Arioi cult associated with 'Oro to 1730 or 1740. However, another missionary Davies believed the Oro cult had arisen in Opoa during the 1600s CE and had reached Tahiti in the second half of that century or the early 1700s (Henry, pp. 237-241, Oliver, 1974, vol. 1, pp. 914-928, 1106-1108).

## Major Influences Behind Pacific Island Networks 1500 CE-1800 CE

Three influences interacted to create the patterns of trade and exchange across the vast breadth of Oceania prior to European colonisation. The first was resource differentiation between localities in combination with the logistical and skill base requirements needed to move goods and people, between different resource
localities. The second was social, cultural, and political drivers for community exchanges for which the trade of items might form an important component. The last was the necessity of expanding access to resource bases in communities' immediate vicinities due to the threat of natural hazards devastating localities with little warning. In the Pacific Islands in general, trade defined as the exchange of material goods was often as much a means to more valued social and political alliances and exchanges as the means in itself.

Where mountainous high islands existed within archipelagos also containing atolls regular exchanges of atoll shells valued for currency or canoes for high island canoe timber and other flora not available on atolls. However, regular exchanges also took place between island types with largely identical resources such as between atolls and between mountainous high islands. This might occasionally be because of locality specific high-quality resources such as obsidian volcanic glass used for cutting implements from Talasea on the island of New Britain in modern day Papua New Guinea which was traded as far as Borneo in modern Indonesia (Summerhayes, 2009).

More often, however, the exchange of goods also served a social and political purpose in which the item was as much symbolic as practical to forge political alliances between chiefly houses or social alliances between clans through inter-marriage. Inter-marriage extended resource bases by extending kin links that could be called upon in times of hardship such as prolonged drought, or the devastating immediacy of natural disasters such as typhoons or volcanic eruptions. Certain items were valued more for their status value than their practical application or rarity in the recipient's society, although high status did often derive partly from relative scarcity. Examples include chiefly feathered capes made from the feathers of numerous birds or ceremonial staffs.

Exchanges of goods and spouses extended beyond neighbouring archipelagos and beyond the range of any one political ruler. Historian Niel Gunson has documented the extent of the inter-archipelago chiefly marriage links for the eastern and central Pacific, noting marriage connections between Tahiti and Cook Island dynasties, Cook Island and Sāmoan ruling families and Fijian, Tongan and Sāmoan chiefly families (Gunson, 1997). To put this in global perspective, the distance from Viti Levu in Fiji to Ra'iatea in the Society Islands is 3237 kilometers compared to 2839km from Paris to Moscow and 4129 km from New York to San Francisco.
As well as fulfilling social and political needs, long distance exchanges were also a practical necessity emerging from the occupation of a demanding environment. In the Pacific Islands, short-term environmental perturbations and unpredictable changes brought about by external elements fostered expectations of unheralded elements intruding from beyond the horizon, curiosity about where these elements came from, and flexible, opportunistic strategies to cope with an, at times, uncertain world. Once established, most Pacific Islander societies developed some form of magazine economy and inter-island marriage or trade links with other communities to insulate themselves against climatic variability in rainfall, El Niño cycles, and natural disasters such as typhoons and earthquakes.

Many Pacific coastal communities had the capacity to move entire populations by sea for social exchanges but also especially to relocate if hit by natural hazards and climatic threats that were a regular part of island life. The Pacific is regularly subject to geological hazards such as earthquakes and volcanic activity, tsunami, climate hazards such as typhoons, floods, landslides, drought, and El Niño - La Niña cycles. The Pacific Ring of Fire is a belt of volcanic activity that circles the entire Pacific, while tsunamis generated in one corner of the Pacific can touch shores on the other side of this vast ocean with devastating impact. Major volcanic eruptions can affect global climate and global food production for years. Climate patterns alternating between El Niño and La Niña variations span the entire Pacific and affect climate in the Indian Ocean and Africa as well, while monsoonal weather affects the western Pacific, Indian Ocean, as well as maritime Southeast Asia and much of continental Asia. These climatic forces can cause prolonged drought or heavy flooding. These natural hazards required economies able to store surpluses in times of plenty and also able to draw on wider regional economies through trade and social alliances in times of need.

The volcanic eruption in 1452 on the island of Kuwae in what is now central Vanuatu was one of the eight largest volcanic events in the past ten thousand years, hurling at least thirty million cubic meters of rock, earth and magna into the atmosphere and creating enough dust to circle the world, remain in the atmosphere for three years, and block enough sunlight to create unseasonal and prolonged winters that stunted crop and vegetation growth in China and Europe resulting in thousands of deaths from freezing and starvation. Disruptions and forced migrations are also recorded in
this part of the Pacific, including the cessation of the trade with distant Tonga of local kava, a narcotic root beverage (Luders, 1996). Seismic disturbances on the sea floor generate shock waves that may give rise to tsunami. The largest earthquake of the twentieth century measuring 8.8 on the Richter Scale was centered off Chile and yet still generated 25-foot waves along the Japanese east coast some 10,000 miles away (Dudley and Lee, 1998, p. 165).

The Caroline Islands lie within a corridor known as 'Typhoon Alley', where the majority of the world's typhoons either form or pass through on their way westward and northward towards Asia's Pacific Rim. In response to the frequency of natural disasters, many clans had members and inter-marriage links on a number of Carolinian atolls they could flee to if natural disasters struck their home community. Each coral island's potential carrying capacity generally exceeded its actual population during optimum conditions, enabling refugees to be accommodated. This was amply demonstrated in World War Two when many atolls blockaded by US forces were able to feed their own populations as well as Japanese garrisons.

## The Pacific Way 1500-1800 CE: Visiting Protocols and Institutions

A core responsibility of Pacific community leaders in this era was ensuring that the complex array of institutions and resources required to maintain community capacity to voyage between locations was maintained. In the Pacific this meant maintaining sufficient navigational expertise, sailing skills, and logistical capacity to supply sufficient nutrition and sailing vessels for large voyaging expeditions that might be absent for lengthy periods, or to host such fleets from elsewhere, and also to overproduce to accommodate the absence of a portion of productive adults at any one time. One of the least acclaimed political achievements of the Indigenous Pacific was the ability to create such surplus capacity through consent-based, mutually beneficial, highly organized community labour (D'Arcy, 2006, pp.70-97). This is perhaps the greatest lesson of the ancestors for today's leaders and advocates of the Pacific Way.

Geographer R.G. Ward noted that the colonial era saw the decimation of inter-island sailing capacity so that by the 1900s most outer islands were much more isolated than they were during 1500-1800 through reliance on infrequent and expensive planes or occasional cargo and service vessels (Ward, 1998). Locally controlled airline and shipping infrastructure remains a relatively low priority for many island nations today,
despite the proven capacity of locally constructable canoe designs using solar and sail to fill a huge need in the outer islands in particular, while the promise of community-based tourism remains uncertain due to the reliance on foreign airlines to deliver tourists.

There is a strong case to be made for emphasizing the construction of Pacific Island craft based on traditional designs which harness locally available materials and are powered by wind and solar power. Most Pacific nations currently rely on aged, poorly maintained and diesel-powered shipping which is becoming more and more economically marginal by the year at a time when most remote Pacific islands need secure transport to survive the consequences of global warming. International decarbonization targets to be implemented over the next 30 years will make these existing forms of transport even more marginal, as will the rising price of their fossil fuels. Without the development of proven, locally made alternatives using local materials, the myriad of outer island communities across the Pacific will grow more isolated from goods and perhaps ecotourist dollars they are unable to access locally, as well as markets for their produce. Traditional vessels could easily hold all the exports and imports needed by most outer islands and last for a generation. Such revived vessels would also improve nutrition by allowing sustainable fishing instead of contracting fishing rights to Distant Water Fishing Nation (DWFN) vessels for only a fraction of the sale price of their harvest.

While regional leaders declared climate change to be the greatest threat faced by the region in the 2018 Boe Declaration (Forum Secretariat, 2018), very little regional resources have been committed to developing sustainable shipping as countless generations of ancestors prioritized. Yet, the urgent needs of outer island communities in particular, and all Pacific nations in general, demand enhanced research into traditional practices and designs that also integrate the most useful and readily applicable elements of modern science and technology such as solar powered computer software for onboard GPS navigation and weather tracking (Nuttall et al, 2014).

Studies suggest that increasing interest in eco-tourism and community-based tourism along with more sustainable harvesting of forest and nearshore fishery resources can return significant local income for communities still controlling the local resources
of their ancestral homes, while at the same time preserving and even reviving
ecosystems. The key issue for such communities is national and regional recognition
of their ancestral rights to act as guardians for the land and sea of their communities,
as well as communications, transport, educational and health infrastructure to both
facilitate local empowerment and external visitor access (LaFranchi and Greenpeace
Pacific, 1999, Hilmi et al, 2020).

All exchanges and voyaging in the period 1500-1800 required advanced diplomatic skills and social sensitivity to facilitate long stays off island that seasonal winds or unanticipated storms or opportunities might demand, generally in circumstances where the visitor was reliant on the good will of the numerically superior hosts. Master navigators often acted as diplomats and envoys - it is no accident that many of the first Pacific Islanders to become known to the European world were navigators. Maintaining correct relations with other communities was also important. The arrival of outsiders across the sea differed from those overland because there were fewer intermediaries to warn of their approach. Visitor protocol usually consisted of signaling one's friendly intentions, and acknowledging the sovereignty of the host. This often took the form of approaching the shore with sails lowered, and reporting to the local ruler immediately (Chamisso in Kotzebue, 1967, vol.3, p. 207, Lessa, 1966, pp. 17-18, 45-46). Voyagers visiting Chuuk were required to leave their sails with the local chief until they left. By this act, they surrendered themselves to the ruler's protection, as their means of leaving were removed. In return, actual or designated kin treated the visitors hospitably. They were well fed and entertained (Chamisso in Kotzebue, 1967, vol.3, p. 212).

The humbleness and astute diplomatic skills required by navigators to interact with
regular and unexpected communities in which they were always the minority is still
required by Pacific representatives today in dealings with larger Pacific Rim and
global players on matters from trade to global warming mitigation. The same humility
and astute sensitivity to personal feelings always grounded in the mana accruing
from mastering a skilled profession with humility and dignity that served generations
of Pacific navigators still applies today. These attributes also characterised internal
Pacific relations though. Pacific communities could construct and maintain far more
canoes per head of population than almost any human community in history, but
rarely did so by means of coercion. Cooperation and conceding some autonomy in
exchange for collective benefit was more the case across the Pacific Islands. Even
today, a feature that sets the Pacific apart from other parts of the world is the generally
high level of state recognition of customary tenure and the large number of nation-
states where Indigenous peoples form the majority of the population and government
representatives.

In this regard, the recent emergence of the concept of Oceanian sovereignty outlined
later in this collection [here it would be useful to refer to the specific chapter or paper
title – eg: "outlined in chapter XX" or "outlined in insert title] is particularly germane.
By advocating for decision-making environmental guardianship on the basis of
tangible actions and community ancestral links rather than the status of office holders,
Oceanian sovereignty broadens decision-making criteria. This concept draws heavily
upon, and is inspired, by concepts of rahui and community-based environmental
guardianship centered on the catchment from which UFP draws its talented student
and staff base. In particular, CRIOBE, the French Scientific Research Laboratory on
Coral Reefs, has developed into perhaps the world's best practice in true partnerships
between Indigenous knowledge and Western marine science, with CROIBE Director of
Research, Tamatoa Bambridge and his team working closely with local communities
to produce restorations of coastal habitats, facilitated by French Polynesian authorities
in ways that can still be improved, but which leave many of us in the Anglophone
Pacific wishing our governments and university hierarchy would visit, learn, and build
collaborative networks. Such networks were pioneered and funded exclusively by
French Pacific academics and governments over a decade ago, most notably the
Connectign Moana teaching initiative which garnered enthusiastic support from most
Pacific Island universities from the College of Micronesia, FSM in the far northwest to
UPF in the far southeast.

## Conclusion: The Ongoing Importance of External Connections

The vast majority of Pacific Island populations inhabited the large continental islands
of the Pacific southwest west of Fiji. While this areas' coastal peoples also conducted
maritime trade, most exchanges were much more localised than those covered above.
The European presence in the Pacific increased dramatically after 1800, creating
new opportunities and mediums for exchange, but also eventually restricting the
traditional cultural worlds discussed above by imposing colonial boundaries and other
administrative restrictions on indigenous long-distance exchanges. This was especially
so in eastern Polynesia, and least so in the Caroline Islands due to limited coercive
and policing capacity. While thousands of Pacific islanders from Polynesia and to a
lesser extent Micronesia served as crew on western commercial vessels and western
trade goods entered traditional trade networks, western disease decimated island
populations and allowed a relatively easy colonial takeover. Hundreds of thousands
of Melanesians served as plantation labourers away from their home district or off
their home island in the so-called labour trade of the last half of the 1800s, bringing
back knowledge of the wider world and payment in western goods (Corris 1973). In
the modern, post-independence era Polynesians and Micronesians have exported
their labour from crowded resource-poor islands to the economies of former colonial
powers to develop remittance economies, while Melanesian nation trade has mainly
focused on their abundant mineral, timber and fish resources sought by the booming
economies of the Pacific Rim. Long distance trade and exchanges remain central to
the vibrancy of Pacific Island societies, but in ways local communities have far less
control over.

This chapter has suggested another way forward, one which draws upon past lessons
from generations of Pacific ancestors. It is a path that can substantially reduce
externally driven dependence and exploitation, emphasizes sustainable economic
development based on environmental affinity and guardianship, celebrates and
accommodates diversity and multiple voices, and is ultimately consent-based as any
action requiring broad adoption must be. The next generation seeking to enhance
the Pacific Way, need to remember the importance of maintaining sustainable
communications infrastructure, of schooling new generations of diplomats/navigators
to be sensitive to negotiating with larger entities, and of reinforcing the consent-based
decision making that has served countless generations of Pacific communities.

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Summerhayes, G.R. (2009) “Obsidian Network Patterns in Melanesia—Sources, Characterisation and Distribution.” *Bulletin of the Indo-Pacific Prehistory Association* 29, pp. 109-123.

Teriierooiterai, J.-C. (2013) ‘Mythes, astronomie, découpage du temps et navigation traditionnelle : l’héritage océanien contenu dans les mots de la langue tahitienne.’ PhD thesis, Université de Polynésie française.

von Kotzebue, O. (1967) *A Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea and Behring's Straits, in search of a North-east passage, Undertaken in the Years 1815, 16, 17, and 18 in the ship Rurick* (3 vols.). Amsterdam: N. Israel, and New York: Da Capo Press (Bibliotheca Australiana reproduction of 1821 edition).

Ward, R.G. (1998) “Remote runways: air transport and distance in Tonga.” *Australian Geographical Studies*, 36 (2), pp. 177–186.
# OUR SEA OF FLOATING SIGNIFIERS: OR, THE CURIOUS VOYAGE OF THE PACIFIC WAY

**Michael Goldsmith**

Anthropology Programme
University of Waikato
Hamilton, New Zealand

In this essay, I aim to show that the ideology of the Pacific Way (PW) has changed its meaning repeatedly over the course of its more than fifty-year career. While not intending to devalue the notion, I argue that users of the term have continually responded to changes in purpose and context and that some of their uses of the term may be more fit for purpose than others.

## PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE

The phrase 'floating signifier' was coined by Claude Lévi-Strauss (1950, 1987) as a way of grasping the term mana – or, more precisely, as a way of elucidating the role that such a famously flexible concept played across a variety of cultures. Lévi-Strauss' phrase is therefore doubly suitable as a navigation point for engaging with the concept of the 'Pacific Way'. Firstly because, like mana, it is a notion that has expanded across boundaries and, in so doing, has shifted the boundaries themselves; and, secondly, because the metaphor of 'floating' has maritime connotations. For an ocean voyage to begin, the voyaging vessel (vaka, waka, va'a...) must be able to float in the first place. From there it can be steered more or less as the navigator chooses, or it can just drift – but this is not the time to rehash that tired controversy.

By borrowing the term 'floating signifier', I am not saying that the Pacific Way is an 'open' signifier (i.e., open to any meaning at all) and I am emphatically not saying it is an 'empty' signifier (i.e., devoid of meaning). Rather, the Pacific Way has had many possibly related meanings over its career. While that suggests it is impossible to provide a definition on which all proponents and commentators agree, there is one constant – a structural or even structuralist idea at its heart – which is that it has always been equally about what it stands against as to what it stands for.
In its initial phase, the Pacific Way represented a spirited alternative to the ways and practices of colonialism at the height of independence movements in the region; but, since the social and political contexts have changed over time, it stands to reason that the 'for' and the 'against' have changed as well. Reflecting on this process of change prompted the allusion in my title to Epeli Hau'ofa's famous essay 'Our Sea of Islands' (1993, 1994, 1995, et seq.), which was an attempt to shift Pacific Studies away from the politics of despondency and *towards* the politics of accomplishment and rejuvenation. As we shall see, however, Hau'ofa was ambivalent about the idea of a Pacific Way.

## THE VOYAGE BEGINS

By happy coincidence, I came into direct contact with the early wave of Pacific Way theory while teaching at the University of the South Pacific in Suva for six months in 1973, a mere three years after Fiji's independence from Britain. Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara, often cited as the originator of the term Pacific Way (Mara 1979, 1997), was Prime Minister at the time, having earlier led Fiji through the constitutional transition.

USP was an important centre for debates over decolonisation and the future of Pacific states and societies. While I was never more than an onlooker to those initial debates, several faculty members were important early theorists and disseminators of the new Pacific Way paradigm. Among those whom I had most to do with were Ron Crocombe, Professor of Pacific Studies, and Sione Tupouniua, a Tongan Lecturer in politics. They later took part in a conference that resulted in a volume of essays co-edited by Tupounuia, Crocombe and fellow USP academic Claire Slatter (1975). Crocombe then went on to individually author some of the important early statements of PW doctrine (1975a, 1975b, 1976).

Before outlining the positions advanced in those publications, however, it is worth considering the extent to which Crocombe genuinely subscribed to the underlying ideology. At much the same time as his contributions to the PW literature emerged, he issued several publications that took a notably divergent stance. These publications included a two-part essay in *Pacific Perspective* (1972a, 1972b), an almost identical text in the form of a pamphlet delivered to a conference held in Fiji on 'The Catholic Church and the Development of Peoples in the South Pacific' (1972c) and, expanding on those earlier publications, an influential introductory book, *The New South Pacific*
(1973) that was to go through at least seven editions. The central message of this sequence of publications is a more ambivalent and even sceptical overview of Pacific identity than that which emerges in the specifically PW-oriented publications from the same era. My favourite example of Crocombe's scepticism is the question he posed as a chapter or section heading in all of the texts just mentioned: "Language: are all 1,200 necessary?" Perhaps in recognition of the harshness of this position, in later editions of the book (e.g., 1989), the question was softened to "will all 1200 survive?" Throughout his career, however, a kind of flinty economic rationalism anchored his views of Pacific society and development.

And yet, his early distillations of the Pacific Way were mostly positive. In his view, it comprised a constellation of linked ideas, including: a predilection for consultative decision-making; an emphasis on development concerned with more than just material benefits; an orientation to 'love' (clearly drawing on the many Pacific traditions of alofa, aloha, aroha, 'ofa, loloma, and so on); concern for less privileged members of society; concern for ethics; inclusivity; encouragement of creativity; and an overall political stance unequivocally in favour of national independence and sovereignty.

Whether or not the leaders of the newly independent nations of the Pacific ever put these principles into practice is beyond the scope of this essay and, anyway, is better addressed by those states' citizens. However, the proceedings of a 1980 East-West Center conference on 'Development the Pacific Way' attended by a number of senior Pacific island leaders revealed some disagreement among them about what PW actually meant. The debate hinged on whether to concentrate on particular (national, cultural) identities, on Pacific-wide ones, or wider ones still. In discussion, Toaripi Lauti, Tuvalu's first post-independence Prime Minister, even queried whether PW represented a stable identity, pointing to "a need for a Pacific way of life based on the realization that cultures will change and while traditional ways should be recorded for their preservation, desirable adaptation should also be encouraged" (EWC 1980: 19-20; see also p. 40). With a further degree of caution, Solomon Islands public servant Francis Bugotu went on to comment "that island leaders need to define more precisely what is meant by the 'Pacific Way'. If they knew what is tangible about the Pacific Way, they could then attempt to define their goals more clearly" (1980: 20). In his presentation, Ratu Mara tried to steer the discussion back to his original conceptions, arguing that the leaders "should not be trying to build a Pacific Community. We should
be trying to build upon a Pacific Community which is already in existence.... [W]e
[are] not so much establishing new friendships as renewing old ancestral ties which the
arbitrary division of the metropolitan powers in the Pacific had weakened" (1980: 72).
He summed up with an appeal to history and tradition that was drenched in nostalgia:

life in the rural communities has a quality and a value which cannot be found
in the towns. Moreover, I think it is a quality which identifies us in the Pacific and
distinguishes us from other people elsewhere in the world. It is part of the Pacific
way. [L]et us not lose the vision of a Pacific community where people matter,
where kinship and other bonds provide an intricate network of benefits and
obligations, and where the spirit of man can expand and develop in a unique
way (1980: 76).

Mara's address comes across as an attempt to bring together the 'chiefly' assumptions of his original conception and the more egalitarian assumptions of the ideology that emerged later on in the works of USP scholars, such as Crocombe. At the same time, several complications arise from that body of work.

First, there is the question of how much of this ideology emanated from cultural trends widely analysed and advanced in universities and progressive circles at the time, both in the so-called West and elsewhere. The 1960s and 1970s were decades of what has sometimes been called a 'counter-cultural revolution'. The version of Pacific Way put forward in Crocombe's depiction resonated strongly with that tendency and with critiques of orthodox economic development that were emerging in parallel.

Second, there is the question of how much of the Pacific way derived from longstanding Christian principles and the extent to which its ideas then led to cross-pollination between secular universities and schools of theology. I will expand on this point shortly.

Lastly, there is the question of how much the standard characterisation reflects the
philosophy of its supposed source of inspiration in the writings of Ratu Mara (1997).
Stephanie Lawson has incisively dismantled the received history of the origins of Pacific
Way through an examination of Mara's speeches and official documents from the era
of Fiji's transition to independence. In her view, "it was first and foremost a conservative
discourse embracing notions of class and hierarchy common to elite elements among
both colonisers and colonised" (Lawson 2010: 299). In short, the version of the Pacific
Way outlined by Crocombe and others in the early to mid-1970s can be seen as almost antithetical to the version suggested by Mara.

There may be a point of connection, however, in the way that a growing number of theorists understand ideas of relationship and authority in the Pacific and elsewhere. This recent scholarship on hierarchy suggests that the idea of chiefliness underpinning Mara's interpretation (based on Fijian vakaturaga) is not opposed to equality as such but encompasses and entangles it in practices of respect (on Fiji, see Toren 2000; on Samoa, see Tcherkézoff 2009; and on hierarchy in Pacific development ideology and theology see Tomlinson 2019: 26). It is possible to view the approach of these and other authors as akin to Crocombe's criteria of "inclusivity" and "respect for less privileged members of society".

## THEOLOGY OF THE OCEAN

I alluded earlier to the connections between the Pacific Way and Christianity. Crocombe referred to religion in his 1970s overviews of Pacific identity and he even referred to the "theology" of the Pacific Way (e.g., 1975b: 5) but his use of quotation suggested another kind of scepticism. He went on to explain that what he meant by theology was not so much religion as "the beliefs, values, political and psychological responses to the term [PW]". His remarks on Christianity itself ("The Pacific Way is God's Way") are brief and come late in the piece (e.g., 1975b: 21-22). I think it is fair to say that elaboration of the Pacific Way in religious terms was not his forte or his passion, even though he acknowledged the importance of religion to most Pacific peoples.

At virtually the same time as secular intellectuals were starting to systematise PW philosophy at USP (established in 1968), just down the road in Suva at the Pacific Theological College (PTC, established in 1965), religious intellectuals were starting to rethink some basic tenets of Christian belief and practice. Note that these theologians were primarily Protestant. While there were undoubtedly parallel trends in Roman Catholicism, that is a subject which I will leave to those better versed in that branch of Christianity than myself.

Even before the USP conference on the Pacific Way produced its findings, a Suva-based religious publisher Lotu Pasifika had brought out an important manifesto of what came to be known as 'coconut theology'. It was called that in part because
of the centrality of that tree crop in re-imagining rituals such as holy communion, with
coconut water replacing wine or imported fruit cordial, but it was also clearly intended
as a metaphor for Pacific cultures in general. The book was Garrett and Mavor's
*Worship the Pacific Way* (1973; qv. Healey 1984). Significantly, the same publisher soon
re-issued Crocombe's extended essay on PW as "an emerging identity" (1975).

*Worship the Pacific Way* was the fruit of a fundamental reassessment of Pacific Christianity that had taken place over the previous decade, moving from a view of the church as universal with some local wrinkles to a view of churches as rooted in indigenous ways of thought. We can follow this trajectory in the views expressed over time in the main organ of regional Protestantism, the *Pacific Journal of Theology*.

In its very first issue in December 1961, the editor had begun on a cautionary note:

> ... the Pacific Journal of Theology must not too fully deserve the alternative title of the Journal of Pacific Theology. Our journal must of necessity be a small and modest island child, but it must also serve to remind us that we are part of the great world-wide church and heirs to an ancient tradition in terms of which our island ways must be judged (Bradshaw 1961: 3).

The journal ceased publication in 1970, possibly because such an editorial line had fallen out of favour. By the time a second series of PJT re-emerged in 1989, an Oceanic theology had taken centre stage, a theology of which *Worship the Pacific Way* was a harbinger. The efflorescence of works in this subject area is too big a topic to address here in detail, but some figures stand out. Tongan Anglican cleric Winston Halapua (1998, 2010) coined the term *theomoana* (i.e., a combination of theology and *moana*, the word for 'ocean' in a number of Pacific languages). Jack Johnson-Hill (1992) argued that the foundational values of Pacific rituals and practices include 'reciprocity', 'consensus' and 'birthing' – the latter a concept borrowed from Keiti Ann Kanongata to denote emerging from the womb of tradition into "a new world of complex realities". Some other works that capture the flavour of an indigenous approach are by Meo (1996), Namunu (1996), and Nofoaiga (2020). I also draw readers' attention to an important essay by Huffer and Qalo (2004) that unites theological and philosophical reflection.

Arguably, the most detailed attempts to connect political and religious dimensions of
the Pacific Way emerged in the writings of a senior Fijian Methodist minister, Reverend
Ilaitia (I. S.) Tuwere. In an essay written for PJT in 1995, he expressed regret that the term (PW) had fallen unjustifiably into disuse and defined it as having three main purposes: a quest for regional identity; a recognition of regional commonality; and a desire for self-determination, i.e., for Pacific people "to be actively involved to the fullest possible extent in shaping their own future" (1995: 7). The term has no meaning in itself, he felt, only in its use. It is also a sign of travail, of often inchoate "groanings" that must be translated "into effective speech" or "language of the ordinary people", not remain the preserve of the educated elites (1995: 7). Tuwere went on to produce his magnum opus, the book *Vanua* (2002), which addressed the polysemous Fijian notion of *vanua* 'land' as a placement for indigenous identity and spirituality. Ironically for a work focused on the significance of land, this work's central symbol truly typifies the idea of a floating signifier.

To round off this section on the religious dimensions of the Pacific Way, I return to Epeli Hau'ofa. Matt Tomlinson (2019) makes a reasonably convincing case that Hau'ofa was a theologian manqué of these theoretical developments. The creative tsunami of works that began with 'Our Sea of Islands' (1993, et seq.) led to the equally influential and hopeful essay 'The Ocean in Us' (1998) and the collection *We Are the Ocean* (2008). To use a trope common in missionary discourse, it is as though Hau'ofa had discovered a way of light that promised to lead his students out from a place of darkness. That despondency was cogently expressed in an earlier essay on 'A New South Pacific Society' (1987), a scathing indictment of regional elites whose privileges stood them apart from the lives of the mass of Pacific islanders. And even earlier came his only piece of writing that, as far as I am aware, directly confronted and critiqued the Pacific Way ideology of the 1970s. I refer to his short story 'The Glorious Pacific Way', reprinted in *Tales of the Tikongs* (1983). I won't reveal the plot in case new readers wish to indulge in the delights of that volume but it is like an amusingly acerbic preamble to his 1987 critique of elitism. I have often wondered if his later writings represented an effort at balancing the satirical edge of this and other Tikong tales. On the other hand, I don't think he ever backed away from that portrayal, judging by the number of times the story was reprinted in later collections (1997, 2008).

## POLITICS OF THE PACIFIC WAY

So far, I have sketched two complementary aspects of the Pacific Way narrative – one that argues for its decolonising potential and another that raises residual concerns
about the feasibility of such a radical rethinking of identity. Which of these is more convincing to readers may reflect where they have floated to – and it is certainly possible to float between them on different days of the week.

I referred earlier to PW being defined by what it is not (what we might call ‘non-Pacific ways’) as much as by what it purportedly is. That opposition has a religious dimension: the island Pacific is arguably the most Christian region of the world, an identity that its citizens and residents use as a way of distinguishing themselves from less devout societies. As part of the Pacific Way, it is tacit at times and overt at others. The national mottoes of a number of independent Pacific states make it explicit (‘Tuvalu me te Atua’, ‘Fa’avae i le Atua Samoa’, etc.).

That devotion to Christianity neatly aligns with one of the most important tasks of PW rhetoric, which is to distinguish the ‘true’ island nations from their neighbours, the metropolitan and mostly secular states of Australia and New Zealand. Despite their status as founding members of the South Pacific Forum and their continued membership of its successor, the Pacific Island Forum, the two settler dominions with white majorities have often been portrayed by the other members as not ‘really’ Pacific.

Crocombe argued that, from the earliest days of PW ideology, it was used as a “symbol of exclusion” by Pacific island leaders and commentators:

> New Zealand has generally not been included in the term – in fact several New Zealand Prime Ministers have expressed either frustration or amusement about the use of the term. They seek a specific meaning in the sense of particular forms of behaviour, but the more common meaning refers not to specifics but to the perception that whatever islands leaders agree on constitutes ‘The Pacific Way’ for that purpose at that time (Crocombe 1992: 153).

This division tends to emerge most starkly at moments of diplomatic tension. Frank Bainimarama's 2006 Fijian coup, for example, caused the Australian and New Zealand governments considerable angst. The following year's Forum meeting in Tonga was marked not only by consternation that Bainimarama attended but also by New Zealand Prime Minister Helen Clark's clear irritation at the rapturous reception he received from the locals. According to journalist Audrey Young, Clark "didn't want to know about my question asking what it says when Bainimarama has become a hero apparently because of Australia and New Zealand's strong condemnation of him" (Young 2007).
Some years later, Bainimarama pointedly remarked "that the Pacific way of dealing with issues was not to be ostracising countries" (Fiji Sun 2015). His comment came at a conference of Pacific island leaders hosted by Japan and, while it seems like a back-handed comment on his treatment by Australia and New Zealand, it arose in the context of debates about whether to include Indonesia as an associate member of the Melanesian Spearhead Group on the grounds that the population of West Papua is mostly Melanesian. The episode allowed him to state the orthodox position: "I spoke at length today about the Pacific Way, I heard a lot about families - the Pacific families, and I said that we should continue as one if we want to be a family and if we want to do things the Pacific Way and that is to look after one another and accept the differences that exist" (Fiji Sun 2015).

And, yet, in 2022 regional diplomatic discourse is rife with mentions of a "Pacific family" in which Australia and New Zealand are firmly embedded – or at least their claims to full and equal membership have been met with comparatively little pushback, with the notable exception of Solomon Islands prime minister Manasseh Sogavare. No doubt, this rapprochement has been fostered by growing Chinese engagement, which only Sogavare has fully embraced, so far. But there is also an increasing recognition by Australia and New Zealand politicians that 'Pacific Way' rhetoric can be turned to their advantage. The most explicit form of that recognition has emerged in New Zealand foreign minister Nanaia Mahuta's reformulation of her country's vision for the Pacific region. Appointed as the first Maori woman to hold the position after the 2020 election, in the following year Mahuta gave a speech to the New Zealand Institute of International Affairs entitled "Partnering for Resilience" (2021). In her address, she explained the focus on resilience as "a natural next step... to respond to the significant challenges of the here and now, founded on an authentic and values-based 'Pacific Way'". She continued: "Regional architecture must draw its strength from a 'Pacific way' that seeks to establish rules and norms embedded in tikanga [Maori custom] and Pacific-led solutions"; and she concluded by stating that New Zealand, with Australia by its side, would work with "a range of partners to build resilience by promoting Pacific priorities, Pacific ownership and the 'Pacific way'".

These echoes of the 1970s are not just confined to political and diplomatic circles. At least in New Zealand (perhaps more than in the island Pacific itself?) they reverberate
in a number of other settings. At my home institution of the University of Waikato, for example, PW ideology has surfaced in successive versions of the administration's 'Pacific Plan' to recruit and mentor Pacific students and staff. In 2011, the document espoused a commitment to the "cultural and spiritual values of Pacific people, especially in relation to language and culture, collectivity and kinship, respect and humility, and love and reciprocity" (UW 2011: 1) – language highly reminiscent of the PW ideology of the 1970s.

Ten years later, a new version of the document (UW 2021) asserted these same values, albeit within a framework that now acknowledged cultural differences across the region. The result is somewhat awkward and reflects the difficulties always present in any attempt to summarise a single coherent 'Pacific Way':

> The relationship between the University of Waikato and its Pacific people will reflect and embody Pacific principles including alofa/'ofa/aloha (love, respect and really being in the presence of other human beings (Samoa/Tonga/Hawai'i), fakatokilalo (humility (Tonga)), collective outcomes and success, sautu (holistic and collective well-being (Fiji)), and tautua/kuleana (a leader's responsibility for collective well-being and outcomes (Samoa/Hawai'i).

## CONSENSUS? WHAT CONSENSUS?

A broader political question relates to the difficult notion of consensus, widely cited as a crucial feature of Pacific Way ideology. It is a topic that deserves a whole paper in its own right but, by way of conclusion, I will briefly point to some issues that suggest it is an idea that should never be taken for granted.

At the apex of Pacific Way politics is the phenomenon of the leaders' retreat at the annual Forum meetings. The retreat has become part of Pacific Way mythology that crystallised during the first decade and a half of such meetings. While the context has changed markedly, the ideal lingers in the Forum imaginary. In this version of events, all the leaders of the individual country delegations convene for a day in a select location away from the main conference venue, without aides and with media barred from observing proceedings. These arrangements supposedly favour free and frank discussions leading to production of a consensus on the important issues on the Forum agenda. When the retreat ends, one of the leaders present (usually the Forum chair)
acts as spokesperson with a statement that is the final communiqué or the basis for
that document.

Of interest here is the fact that the retreat is conducted in secrecy. In other words, it
takes place under something like Chatham House rules rather than under the gaze
of the wider community affected by the decision-making. Both in the literature and
in my experience of communal gatherings in the Pacific, this is rather unusual. If a
contentious subject arises in such gatherings, it is either thrashed out in public or, if no
consensus emerges, it is deferred or deflected. Now it may be that the Forum meetings
are regarded as so important or infrequent that consensus *must* be reached and that
the only way this can be achieved is by negotiations away from public scrutiny. The
conclusion to draw from this is that the primary goal of consensus is to assure onlookers
that there has been a consensus.

If such an outcome is held up as the epitome of consensus in the Pacific Way, questions
arise as to how deeply rooted it is, If there is a consensus about what constitutes
consensus, it is shaky at best. For the meandering voyage of this idea to continue, it
will be in pursuit of a consensus that always seems to recede towards the horizon. Add
consensus to the list of floating signifiers.

References cited

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Young, Audrey

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# Melanesian socialism: anthropology of a post-colonial illusion

Marc Tabani

(CNRS-CREDO)<fnref n="1" />

Critical essays by Joel Robbins have regularly taken aim at a certain anthropological culture that is too oriented towards “continuity thinking” (2007), in the wake of a discipline that in its early days was the perfect embodiment of a “science of continuity” (ibid.). Anthropologists were trained to be uncomfortable with the study of radical cultural change and rapid, drastic social transformation. Even today, Robbins adds, few anthropologists are capable of laying the foundations for an “anthropology of revolution” (ibid.: 10). While this observation may seem debatable for the contemporary period, epistemic conservatism has long remained a feature of political anthropology of the Pacific. The absence of anthropological reflection on the social and cultural implications of nation-building policies in this part of the world until the 1980s was characteristic of the perpetuation of models that privileged the analysis of cultural continuities. A case representative of his era illustrates well the weight of conservatism that characterized Pacific anthropology until recently.

When the first wave of decolonization in the Pacific began in 1962 with the accession to sovereignty of the Western Samoan Islands, anthropologists overwhelmingly preferred to focus on Marshall Sahlins' famous article *Poor Man, Rich Man, Big Man, Chiefs: Political Types in Melanesia and Polynesia* (1963). In fifteen pages, the author proposed a regional theory of power based on a classic colonial comparison, the ethnocultural opposition between Melanesia and Polynesia. A few years later, the Tongan-born anthropologist Epeli Hau'ofa was the first Pacific voice to criticize what he considered to be "a clever, thoughtless and insulting piece of writing [...] ; the whole article is a pseudo-evolutionary comparison, in Sahlins' terminology, between Polynesian polities and the 'underdeveloped' Melanesian ones (Hau'ofa 1975: 285)."<fnref n="2" /> In the context of

<footnote n="1">1 Aix Marseille Univ, CNRS, EHESS, CREDO, Marseille, France.</footnote>

<footnote n="2">2 The antagonism between these two great thinkers would fade, however, to change two decades later, as Tomlinson noted, into a perfect convergence with the respective publication of the essays *Our Sea of Islands* for Hau'ofa (1993) and *The Economics of Develop-Man in the Pacific* for Sahlins (1992): "Both authors share the core idea that there is a grounded set of values, practices,</footnote>
decolonization processes in the contemporary Pacific, Sahlins' proposal could imply a link between the level of development of a political practice and the priority given to a country's independence. The possibility of major political change could thus be justified on the basis of cultural continuities that would be more or less suitable for colonized societies in exercising their sovereignty.

On the other hand, Robbins' analysis against maintaining a continuist discipline seems less justified for anthropologists specializing in Africa, in their relationship with the history of that continent. When the decolonization of the Pacific Islands began, Africa had already passed through this stage a decade before, forcing anthropology to update its themes. In a 1962 publication, the anthropologist George Balandier laid the foundations of his contribution to the anthropology of contemporary politics. In an article entitled *Les mythes politiques de la colonisation et de la décolonisation en Afrique* (1962), this author clearly perceived the theoretical challenge that national independence posed for anthropology, as a factor of discontinuity and a source of rupture. His analysis focused on the historical stages in the development of the myth, initially validated by tradition, towards its use in the cultural and political construction of contemporary, post-colonial issues.

While myth, as a socio-political charter and factor of sovereignty in pre-colonial tribal societies, had “an ideological component” (Balandier 1962: 96), it underwent, according to Balandier, a “shift in meaning” with colonization (ibid: 86). New social and cultural issues arose from the moment this new system of domination and the resulting inequalities became implicated in the identification of colonial fact. In the context of this historical transition, myth was still partly an operation of tradition. It was only with the emergence of the indigenist policies that accompanied national independence that myth took on the value of a cultural symbol, placed at the service of political ideologies based on a modern relationship with the past and traditions. From then on, it became urgent for anthropologists to deal with a problem that could not be ignored, namely to grasp the implications of neither a radical change nor the emergence of a “dialectic of tradition and revolution” (ibid.: 96). The anthropological approach to decolonization developed by this author anticipated, in its own way, the first proposals for the decolonization of anthropology, for its acceptance of ideological and cultural ruptures.

<footnote>and interrelationships that enables Oceanic expansion. This expansion can be manifest as grander public adherence to tradition or a revaluation of Oceania itself as a place within the world" (Tomlinson 2019: 30-31).</footnote>
The Pacific, on the other hand, remained open to Robbins's approach for longer. The changes brought about by the first wave of independence in the region (Samoa in 1962, Cook Islands in 1965, Nauru and Tonga in 1968, Fiji in 1970), which inspired the discourse on the Pacific Way, mobilized sociologists, political scientists and economists to evaluate the potential for novelty. Anthropologists, for their part, were slow to examine the cultural implications of indigenous claims to a "Pacific civilization" that had no centre and whose contours remained uncertain (Matsuda 2006: 769). They were also unresponsive when the first claims of a "Melanesian Way" were heard on the campus of the University of Papua New Guinea in Port Moresby in the mid-1970s, and later on at the University of the South Pacific in Suva. This lack of response to the ideological recycling of the old colonial and anthropological opposition between Melanesia and Polynesia (Thomas 1989, Tcherkezoff 2008) continued until the early 1980s, when Vanuatu, the last Melanesian country to gain sovereignty, became independent.

It was not until the publication of a famous special issue of the journal *Mankind* in 1982, edited by Roger Keesing and Bob Tonkinson – *Reinventing traditional cultures: the politics of kastom in Melanesia* – that anthropologists began to address the issue of the political use of identity and tradition by Melanesian nationalisms. It was only from this thematic focus that they tackled the question of the affirmation of cultural identities based on the reconstitution of common origins and the construction of a past adapted to the needs of the present and future perspectives. The issues of cultural revivalism and the nationalist ideologies that promoted them were to be subsumed within a single anthropological framework. In the course of heated debates about the meaning to be given to ethno-cultural identities based on a rhetoric of tradition translated into pidgin English by *kastom*, this process of ideologizing tradition was linked to the sub-regional identities – Pacific and Melanesian Way – that historically fostered its development.

The purpose of my article is to clarify the ideological formation of the Melanesian Way and its political extension in Vanuatu, known as Melanesian Socialism. In the following pages, I will present a brief history of the ephemeral fate of the Melanesian Way and Melanesian Socialism in Vanuatu, their erasure in favor of the development of a rhetoric of *kastom* as a factor of political liberation and identity renewal and, in a fundamental
way, as a process of cultural rebirth. I will discuss the Melanesian interpretations of the Pacific Way formulated by the first generation of Vanuatu nationalist leaders and their insistence on adding a socialist dimension to their social project. Finally, I will return to the belated involvement of anthropologists in these debates about the political construction of identity and tradition in the historical context of Pacific independence.

## Pan-Pacific Anti-colonialism

For more than half a century, the theme of the Pacific Way has been what we might call a social science sea snake, to use a journalistic term, a recurring theme with no real conclusion or tangible social extension. The phrase first appeared as a formula, a simple slogan, vague and imprecise, in a speech to the United Nations in 1970 by Ratu Mara, the first leader of the Fiji Islands. However, it served as a linguistic element, a semantic dressing, for the creation in 1971 of the South Pacific Forum, the first post-colonial international political organization in the region. However, this institutional expansion did not give it any more coherence or clarity on a strictly ideological level, in the sense of "a system of ideas, a body of doctrine on which political action is based".<fnref n="3" /> Its lack of resonance with a popular social base and its mobilizing character, limited to a small group of leaders of countries with newly acquired sovereignty (Samoa, Nauru, Tonga, Cook Islands, Fiji), have regularly been derided by many academics, starting with Epeli Hau'ofa, who did not even recognize the strength of its propaganda:

> The Pacific Way has not yet developed into a real ideology – and is unlikely to become anything other than a convenient label for things that the mobile island elite groups share – especially their privileges (Hau'ofa 1985: 168).

The academics inspired by Ratu Mara's slogan, including the influential New Zealand sociologist Ron Crobombe, who made his career at the University of the South Pacific in Suva (see Lawson 2010, Kessler 2021), were quick to point out that they had no intention of recognizing the social bases shared by an imagined target group as diverse as "Pacific Islanders". The vocation of the Pacific Way was to remain the discursive expression of an "emerging identity" (Crocombe 1976b). The notion of ideology is conspicuously absent from Crocombe's praise of this emerging doctrine, with two exceptions. The Pacific Way, he writes, shares with other political ideologies

<footnote n="3">³ Dictionnaire de l'Académie française (https://www.dictionnaire-academie.fr/article/A9I0063).</footnote>
the functions "to hide reality (or at least mask it, or shape it the way we wish it was) and myths can be built to fill the gaps" (ibid.: 4). But the founding myth here, the real ideological springboard, is that of brotherhood, an "ideological brotherhood": "it is based on an assumption, usually unspoken, that all islanders are, for certain ideological purposes, brothers" (ibid.).<fnref n="4" /> This foundation of the "spirit of the Pacific Way" is also underlined by the political scientist Michael Haas:

> Meetings of South Pacific islanders, so long isolated from one another, are viewed in part as adventures in learning how similar are the attitudes and customs of the participants. The term "brother" is applied widely to reflect social reality more than biology, implying an ideology of mutual aid, common origins and thus common interests (Haas 1989: 11).<fnref n="5" />

Beyond the rediscovery of common origins, the fraternal bond between islanders implied by the Pacific Way is based above all on a rapprochement between "brother nations". The pan-regional content of this appeal can be summed up as the encouragement of national versions of its founding message. Its original promoters had no intention of giving it the ideological scope of a pan-Pacific nationalism promoting ethnocultural unity. The first official speeches on the subject amounted to reassuring speeches about how a group of countries had gained their independence by consensus and without any hitch (Tomlinson 2019: 25). A peaceful transition in an idealized Pacific, a haven of peace guaranteeing prosperity and development, was the direction suggested to the countries of neighbouring Melanesia, which after Fiji's independence formed the second major wave of decolonization in the Pacific (Fiji in 1970, Papua New Guinea in 1975, Solomon Islands in 1978, Vanuatu in 1980). In anticipation of this widening of the concert of Pacific nations and the underlying neocolonialist threats, the Pacific Way, at the instigation of the leaders of the Polynesian countries, took on a more pronounced anti-colonialist stance.

<footnote n="4">4 The only other instance of the notion of ideology in Crobombe's laudatory pamphlet refers to clothing: 'When it comes to dress, the ideology of the Pacific Way is clear: relaxed, cool and distinctly Pacific' (1976b: 26). The author goes on to say that while colonial legacies still make it difficult to formalize "national dress, islanders have nonetheless managed to put the suit and tie in the checkroom" (ibid.: 27).</footnote>

<footnote n="5">5 Mutual respect in the dialogue between Pacific island countries is even said to have influenced Australia to play "a constructive 'big brother' role on the regional stage" (ibid.: 11).</footnote>
## Melanesian Anti-Westernism

Sharing the same anti-colonial sentiment on a Pacific scale was intended to foster closer ties between the already independent Polynesian states and those of Melanesia, which were then in the process of gaining their sovereignty. But young nationalist leaders in Melanesia, who were to become the leaders of their own countries, were quick to question the true extent of this anti-colonialism. While the Pacific Way was indeed invented by Pacific elites, the slogan was promoted as a political doctrine by Western academics at the University of the South Pacific campus in Suva.<fnref n="6" /> As a very general discourse on a model of sovereignty and development, it emanated from the urban and educated ruling classes, without clearly resonating with the rural population. Too moderate and respectful of the former imperial trusteeship powers, the Pacific Way for Melanesian nationalists reflected a very Polynesian attitude for their tastes, thereby legitimizing the emergence of a competing discourse, albeit presented as complementary, anchored in the same geopolitical space of the “Pacific Islands”, a product of “our very own Pacific and Melanesian ideas” (Lini 1987: i).

The Melanesian way, as an attempt to define a sub-regional cultural sensibility, took shape in the mid-1970s on the benches of the University of Papua New Guinea, which was about to get its independence, and was also supported by a few Melanesian relays at the University of the South Pacific and in New Zealand. The rediscovery by Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu of their common origins and cultural proximity led political leaders and future leaders of Melanesian countries to distance themselves from a Polynesianised Pacific Way that was too tolerant of Western influences. As a result, the intellectual references of proponents of a Melanesian Way extended culturally and historically beyond the Pacific (see Bashkow 2020).

Melanesian nationalists thus found a major source of inspiration in an African Way, particularly in the doctrine known as African Socialism and the thinking of its main mentor, the Tanzanian leader Julius Nyerere. The aim of African Socialism was not a socialist Africa, but a fully African modernity, independent of Western influences and geopolitically non-aligned. For Nyerere, this ideology was based on a democratic commitment to a shared cultural future and the projection of an idealized, harmonious

<footnote n="6">6 Anthropologists were significantly sidelined in the 1970s from the Institute of Pacific Studies at USP's Suva campus, which was then acting as an incubator for Pacific Way ideas. Anthropologists, some of them Pacific Islanders, justified this situation by questioning their discipline's ability to fully grasp islanders' ways of thinking (see Hau'ofa 1975, Crocombe 1976a, Kessler 2021).</footnote>
and united village society onto a national identity still being constructed from the past. It thus advocated the rebirth of an identity that had become too permeable to foreign doctrines such as capitalism and Marxism (Nyerere 1963). African Socialism, seen by its supporters as the origin of all other forms of socialism, was to transcend the theistic and materialist ideologies. It was to produce a synthesis of socialism specific to each African country, reviving a common prehistoric cultural heritage and a pre-colonial social order. The continuity of this heritage would be guaranteed by God. In short, the influence of African Socialism on the development of pan-Africanist thought gave it the value of an ideology, of organized militancy in favour of a model of society based culturally on strict Africanism.

By comparison, the contours of the Melanesian Way are more like a syncretic compromise between the values of the Pacific Way and the rhetoric of African socialism. The resulting discourses opened up the possibility of an extra-African and extra-Caribbean negritude, a Melanesian-style indigeneity. By reversing the racist patterns imposed by colonialism on the peoples of the black islands of Melanesia, this Melanesianist construction had the function of ennobling the age-old figure of the “ignoble savage” (Kabutaulaka 2015), valorizing black nations in the Pacific (see Otto 1997, Lawson 2013, Webb-Gannon et al 2018) and proposing a postcolonial model to Melanesian countries in the process of obtaining their independence (Sykes 2002). This invention of a Melanesian modernity, characterized by a double rejection of capitalism and Marxism, became the ideological fuel of a Pacific space at odds with Western influences. Melanesian writers likened this new approach to a philosophy rather than a political ideology. Like the Pacific Way, it was characterized by a deliberate vagueness: a concept based on an accumulation of personal visions, specific to each of its creators, reflecting a common impulse but not a collective dogma.

The affirmation of a Melanesian Way has developed in two main directions. In Papua New Guinea, under the inspiration of Bernard Narokobi, the Melanesian Way took the form of a cosmological vision of Melanesian unity, an indigenous call for closer ties between Melanesian brother nations.

Although he never gave a precise definition, Narokobi was able to describe a corpus of traditions, human attributes, physical environmental characteristics and spiritual trademarks that he construed to be the causal components of a
"Melanesian Way". Some of these components include our unique Melanesian way of solving conflicts through mediation and restorative justice, which needs no complicated legal system but rather a communal approach to restoring peace and balance in the community; Melanesia's communal vision of the cosmos and the people's spiritual connection with their environment; Melanesia's intricate trade links that existed long before the intrusion of westerners. (Bablis 2010: 246).

The Melanesian Way focuses on issues of national identity and development, but within a framework in which the internal cultural diversity of Polynesian countries is quantitatively incomparable to that of the Melanesian archipelagos, and also in terms of geographical size and natural resources. It aims to figure the cultural boundaries of political entities based on hundreds of societies and as many cultural identities and spoken languages. "It is the simplistic imperialist who seeks uniformity as a technique for commanding obedience in a country of division, disunity, 700 languages and thousands of cultures (Narokobi 1980: 11)". In reality, nation-building proved to be particularly complex, so a broader definition of the goals of the Melanesian Way, without a preconceived method, was the preferred solution. It was suggested that each Melanesian nation should find its own way of applying the values and principles of this doctrine.

The sense of Melanesianity underlying the Melanesian Way was probably more popular than the attachment to such a broad identity as that of Pacific Islanders. The Melanesian Way has filled in as the Pacific Way has emptied out, especially in political and cultural terms, reflecting a closer fraternal relationship. Contemporary affinities have emerged between the popular cultures of neighboring countries that share similar post-colonial experiences in terms of lifestyles and cultural representations. Finally, these closer ties have found a more solid institutional basis with the creation in 1988 of the Groupe Mélanésien Fer de Lance (Mrgudovic 2015), particularly to support, for a country like Vanuatu, the independence of peoples who were still colonized, Timor until its independence, West Papua and, above all, New Caledonia, where the largest Vanuatu expatriate community lives.

## The Melanesian Way and Melanesian Socialism in Vanuatu

In Vanuatu, Walter Lini and Barak Sope, two of the main promoters of the Melanesian Way, were not satisfied to confine this watchword to a vision of hope or a promise of
sharing, or even to a strategy of national building per se. They saw in it a means of
action, the concrete possibility of a social project adapted to countries that recognize
themselves as Melanesian, and of applying it to Vanuatu in the form of a development
based on the ideals of a socialism labelled Melanesian for the cause. In Vanuatu, the
foundations of the constitution, namely Christian principles and traditional Melanesian
values, have been the main factors of the ideological exploitation of the rhetoric of
the Melanesian nationalists. The rhetoric of the resilience of the nation's Melanesian
traditions, of cultural unity in diversity, has found particular resonance here, including
in the analyses undertaken by anthropologists (Tabani 2000).

Although it is often mentioned in speeches, it is difficult to give a precise definition
of Melanesian socialism as it has been advocated in Vanuatu because there are
few references to this doctrine in the writings of its originators. It is often mentioned in
speeches, but few of the writing delve into its meaning. For example, the readership
of Onetalk (a pamphlet edited by Walter Lini) and New Hebrides Viewpoints [NHW]
(edited by a group of Vanuatu nationalists) never exceeded the few dozen members
of the New Hebrides Cultural Association, founded in 1971, which three months later
became the New Hebrides National Party [NHNP] (the first issue of NHW had a print run
of 25 copies [Lini 1980: 24]). Barak Sope, one of the two most radical intellectuals in the
NHNP along with Kalkot Matas-Kele, was lucid enough to admit that:

> The New Hebrides National Party publishes the *New Hebrides Viewpoint* and the Union de la Population des Nouvelles-Hébrides puts out the *Nakamal*; however, the ideas expressed in the periodicals do not appeal to the rural masses. What appeals to them is to regain alienated land, for 90 percent of the population live in the rural areas, attached to the land for their survival (Sope 1974: 33)

In the introduction to Walter Lini's pamphlet Beyond Pandemonium, Anthony Hass, one
of the author's Australian advisors, states that "the Melanesian Way and the Pacific
Way are emerging ideologies with elements of past, present and future" (Hass 1980: 5).
The significance of their Vanuatu version of Melanesian Socialism was the development
of indigenous capacity based on the message of the enlightened churches (implicitly
excluding the pro-French Catholic Church) and a sense of customary community. Even
more vaguely, Walter Lini was content to assimilate anything, especially in terms of
social and economic development, that seemed strictly Melanesian, i.e. non-Western,
to the Vanuatu Melanesian Way in order to redress the internal social imbalances created by colonization.

Whatever may be our national income per capita, one thing is certain: it is unevenly and unfairly distributed between the town and the rural areas, and within the towns, between Melanesians and foreigners. But we are ready to begin the long and demanding task of developing our islands in the Melanesian Way (Lini 1980: 44).

Georges Sokomanu, the first President of the Republic of Vanuatu, made this clear: "To develop according to a Melanesian Pacific Way is to follow the way the people approach development, rejecting harmful foreign influences" (Sokomanu 1980: 61). While the Melanesian Way was about correcting the weight of external and foreign influences in favour of indigenousness, not all indigenous sources of inspiration were welcome. It had to be selective. The separatist movements, particularly Nagriamel and John Frum, "talk about the importance of custom in Melanesian society, but their terrorist activities are not compatible with the Melanesian Way" (Lini 1980: 53). Separatist movement and other opponents "will continue to talk about the importance of the Melanesian Way. The fact is that they do not negotiate in the Melanesian Way" (ibid.). And Walter Lini concluded his speech to the nation on Independence Day, 30 July 1980, in the same chiaroscuro mode, asserting that "Vanuatu's future is bright and it is important that we are able to develop in our own Melanesian way" (ibid.: 63).

In fact, for details of the practical application of the Melanesian Way in Vanuatu in the form of Melanesian Socialism, we have to turn to its main propagandist Barak Sope. In his pamphlet on post-colonial approaches to land tenure, he denounced individualism as the core of harmful foreign influences. He advocated "communal development", which could only be maximized if it found its way into a future economic system. To this end, he insisted, capitalism did not appear to him to be appropriate; only a socialist type of economy found favor in his eyes, as it was adapted to the correspondence between indigenous social structure and collective land ownership:

> The basis of socialism is manifest in the New Hebridean social structures and group ownership of land [...] For this reason one would recommend a socialist type of economy, supplemented by a socialist government. The development of land by groups cannot succeed under a capitalist economy (Sope 1974: 53).
Sope was also the most explicit critic of a Polynesian Pacific Way that had been corrupted by foreign influences, inspired by capitalism and was in continuity with the colonial order. The leaders of the Polynesian states, he said, had helped to denigrate socialism because capitalism favored their own interests:

> It would be hard to convince many Pacific islanders to accept this type of approach, because through colonialism, they have been “brainwashed” to take “socialist” as a dirty word. In fact, they have been indoctrinated so much that they have become blind to the village way of life being the basis of socialism itself. Small island communities have these concepts, and there is no need to introduce them; however, what is needed is develop these concepts of a national basis. In many parts of Polynesia, especially Samoa, Tonga and Fiji, the traditional ruling elite have been sucked into the capitalist economy. They have been convinced that a socialist type of economy would be against their financial interest and social prestige (Sope 1974:53).

Finally, unlike Narokobi, Sope was the first to argue that “communalism” (a term coined by Nyerere in reference to African socialism) found its purest expression in Vanuatu in the Melanesian values of kastom and had preceded any historical manifestation of socialism. Socialism was simply custom: “Capitalism and colonialism undermined a communal way of life that had existed in the New Hebrides for hundreds of years (ibid.: 52)".

The main tenet of Melanesian socialism would thus be “communalism”, presented as a Melanesian precursor to any form of socialism. Its pre-Western origins and proto-socialist character would make it a concentration of anti-capitalist and anti-colonial values. It stands out for the importance it attaches to exchange, in the anthropological sense of the word, and to the idea of sharing that underlies it – an unexpected survival of a very ancient gift economy. According to Walter Lini :

> [Communalism] is based on an awareness of the community where the individual was not to consider himself or his private interests taking precedence over the general interests of the community [...] Giving was based on one's ability to do so. Receiving was based on one's need (Lini, cit. in Premdas 1987: 108-109).
Lini was also careful to distance himself from communism, hence his choice of the alternative term “communalism”. Fearful of his doctrine being confused with the Soviet model, he was always careful to remove any ambiguity about his sources of inspiration. Using his land policy as an example, he declared: “Land exists to be used by the community for its needs. This is by definition a socialist principle, but one that we practiced hundreds of years before Marx, Engels or Lenin was even born, let alone heard of them” (ibid.: 108). But other motifs ran through the imagination of Melanesian socialism, including humanism as a Christian form of human relations, detached from materialism and oriented towards “compassion and mutuality” (ibid.: 109).

Taken separately, these various principles and values had little evocative power. It was only as a whole that they gained significance; taken together, they occupied a position that was completely antithetical to the Western categories that they opposed: “communitarianism versus individualism, sharing versus self-interest, humanism versus materialism” (Premdas 1987: 108). To the echo of the voice of the ancestors were added more objective and diverse influences, an eclectic assortment of external sources of inspiration. Foremost among these was Christianity, the true spiritual artery of the ideologues of Melanesian socialism. This was not a case of collusion, but a genuine osmosis between the Vanuaaku Pati (VP) and the Reformed churches, whose flocks formed the bulk of the party's troops and whose pastors and catechists provided its key cadres.<fnref n="7" />

## The Melanesian Way in British Archives

Not surprisingly, the first people showing interest in the Vanuatu-style Melanesian Way were the former British colonialists, especially after independence. In line with French positions, no French-speaking Vanuatu leader was influenced by this kind of anti-capitalist and pro-socialist argument.<fnref n="8" /> The British interest was reinforced by the fact that, prior to independence, Australia saw no objection to the kind of rhetoric promoted by Vanuatu's nationalist elites, as long as they were clearly opposed to continue French tutelage. However, critical references to a Melanesian Way, which

<footnote n="7">7 Even on the economic and developmental front, as Walter Lini liked to remind us, “God has never gone on strike” (Lini cited in Howard 1983:198).</footnote>

<footnote n="8">8 The critics of the French authorities were firing on all cylinders. The denunciation of Soviet influences on the VP could be linked to the scarecrow of its dictatorial drift, as suggested by the slogans of its Vemarana opponents in Santo: “Vemarana broadcasters (using equipment donated by New Caledonians) interrupted their programming of Madness and other ska and rock bands to chant slogans like 'Lini! Lini! Mussolini'” (MacLancy 1981: 98).</footnote>
was seen as an ideological resurrection of an already outdated way of thinking, were sparse in the British archives. The real fear of the British was not so much the fantasies of Melanesian socialism, but the possible, the much more concrete possible influences of Soviet-sponsored communism.

Four months after independence, and just as Vanuatu's sovereignty had been consolidated by the suppression of the attempted rebellion of Nagriamel and its rival secessionist project of the Republic of Vemarana (Tabani 2001), British intelligence files were preoccupied with links to Cuba through Barak Sope:

> We should be grateful if you would continue to keep a careful watch on communist links and on Barak Sope and others who associate with them. There seems to be more and more evidence to substantiate French fears of the VP's communist links. It would be interesting to know our Australian colleagues' views of the government they have done so much to support. Are they worried at the prospect of an irresponsible regime so near and yet dabbling with fire?<fnref n="9" />

This same Barak Sope was undoubtedly the *bête noire* of the former trusteeship powers. On 23 December 1980, the day after the Vanuatu government recognized the Polisario Front and announced links with the Black Panthers, the British secret intelligence service itself referred to a Pacific tradition:

> Our interests are best served by trying to ensure that Vanuatu remains stable and democratic in the tradition of South Pacific Island States. The information above [contacts with the Russian and recognition of the Polisario Front] does not indicate necessarily that the regime is likely to turn Communist. But it does reveal a serious degree of political immaturity and naivety. This, together with some uncertainty about the real power structure within the Vanuaaku Pati, indicates a basic instability which could be easily manipulated by undesirable influence inimical to our own interests. Added to the uncertainties surrounding the true state of the political structure within the Vanuaaku Pati, it points to recurring instability that is easily manipulated.<fnref n="10" />

<footnote n="9">⁹ Letter from J. Forbes-Meylers, South Pacific Department (Foreign and Commonwealth Office, London) to the British High Commissioner in Port-Vila, regarding the report of Trevor Jones, an agent of the South Pacific Department on mission to Port-Vila, concerning charges of communism against Sope and the Vanuaaku Pati. National Archives. FCO107/198 Vanuatu Internal Political Affairs. 25/11/1980.</footnote>

<footnote n="10">¹⁰ Report from C.M. Carruters, Head of the South Pacific Department (Foreign and Commonwealth Office, London), to Allan Donald, Under-Secretary of State for the FCO. National Archives. FCO 107/214 Internal. Security in Vanuatu. 22/12/1980.</footnote>
The same concerns about the Republic of Vanuatu drifting away from democracy was regularly claimed:

> Apart from the political jargon usually associated with radical far-left movements, there was no real evidence that the VP was a communist. Since independence, the VP has maintained, for example, his desire to maintain tax benefits for foreign investors [...]. Although the Melanesian Way is said not to be communism, it would be unwise at this stage to officially reject the idea that Lini or the VP are not communists.<fnref n="11" />

However, the Vanuatu government's strategy seemed to be becoming clearer. A high degree of amateurism was driving the situation rather than a nefarious ideology:

> As we had reluctantly concluded a while ago, Lini seems reluctant or unable to adopt a statesmanlike approach to his archipelagic problems. The benefits of the "Melanesian Way", of which we heard so much from Melanesians before independence, now seem to have been firmly overtaken by "Melanesian pay-back" (with its cowardly methods and prospects of engendering long-term bitterness). This is a great pity: it does harm to Vanuatu's international image and to their standing in the civilized world.<fnref n="12" />

Finally, the last known reference in British intelligence archives to the alleged far-left excesses of Vanuatu's leaders came three years after independence. In a speech by Lini to a conference in Canberra (15 February 1983), he warned the Australians (and by implication the Americans) that they should recognize the Melanesian way for its true value and not interpret their communalism as anything other than a reflection of Melanesian culture. A speech "that the Soviet ambassador in Canberra might interpret differently".<fnref n="13" /> Lini also suggests that his support for the Australian Aboriginal cause might be less vocal if Australia were prepared to give Vanuatu more substantial financial support.<fnref n="14" /> Lini was plainly conscious about it and made use of the fact that regional powers "would almost certainly view the resurrection of Melanesian Socialism as acts contrary to their interests" (Lini 1982a: 10).

<footnote n="11">11 Report of Trevor Jones, an agent of the South Pacific Department on mission to Port-Vila, concerning charges of communism against Sope and the Vanuaaku Pati. National Archives. FCO107/198 Vanuatu Internal Political Affairs. 25/11/1980.</footnote>

<footnote n="12">12 C.M. Carruters, Head of the South Pacific Department (Foreign and Commonwealth Office, London, à William.S. Ashford; High Commissioner to Vanuatu, 1980-1982. National Archives. FCO 107/214 Internal. Security in Vanuatu. 22/12/1980.</footnote>

<footnote n="13">13 Internal note of J.W. Forbes to the Foreign Commonwealth Office, 15/03/1982, South Pacific Department, about a speech by Walter Lini held at Canberra in February 1982. FCO 107/604.</footnote>

<footnote n="14">14 Ibid.</footnote>
In the early years of independence, the Melanesian Way was used as a rallying cry in bilateral relations with the main Western donor countries (Australia, Britain, the United States and France). On the other hand, the Melanesian Way, and even less Melanesian Socialism, had very little mobilizing power among Ni-Vanuatu and virtually no ideological influence among the rural population. According to Regenvanu:

> As a preserve solely of the state elite, legitimised by the sovereignty of the juridical state in diplomatic discourse, Vanuatu's foreign policy under the VP government became regionally renowned for its stridently anti-colonial stance. Significantly, it was in the field of international diplomacy that the discourse of Melanesian Socialism was most prevalent, a fact indicative of the lack of constraints posed in this area at least for stances of unambiguous self-assertion. Such externally-directed stridency also served to remove attention from thwarted popular expectations domestically (Regenvanu 1993: 34).

## Critical Anthropology of Melanesian Socialism

Barely three years after Vanuatu's independence, severe criticism of Melanesian socialism began to emerge. In 1983, anthropologist Michael C. Howard wrote an article entitled *The myth of Melanesian socialism*, followed in 1987 by an article by political scientist Ralph Premdas entitled *Melanesian Socialism: Vanuatu's Quest for Self-Definition*. The fact is that these criticisms provoked no response from the Vanuatu authorities, and from 1983 onwards there was always less mention of Melanesian Socialism in official speeches, writings by any political leader or in the press.

Howard was the first to criticize the ideological ramifications of the Pacific Way in Vanuatu as a strategy by educated urban Pacific elites to challenge both the continuity of the new post-colonial order with colonial practices and the emergence of disadvantaged social classes as a result of independence.

> This ideology does not attack the working class directly. It seeks to ignore this class and indirectly denies its legitimacy. There is simply no room for a working class in The Pacific Way or in Melanesian Socialism. Where it does touch upon those who are members of the working class it exhorts them to follow those in authority and work with all members of the society for the good of the nation (Howard 1983: 197).
According to Howard, this strategy reached its limits when the Melanesian states gained independence. The decolonization of Melanesia was accompanied by the spread of new forms of capitalist penetration resulting from a dual ideological reappraisal involving both colonial expressions of traditionalism and postcolonial developments in the nationalism of Melanesian elites (ibid.: 180). The leaders in place at the time of the Republic of Vanuatu's independence, Howard argues, contributed significantly to certain developments in the Pacific Way, including adherence to "Melanesian communalism", "communal discipline" and a set of "specifically Melanesian" traditions. All these themes were brought together under the slogan of a Melanesian Way, complementary to but distinct from the Pacific Way, which would lead to a "Melanesian renaissance", to "the rebirth of our identity and purpose" (Lini 1982a: 8). The Melanesian Way was thus conceived as a nationalist counterpart to the ideology of Oceanian unity:

> To a large extent the development of Melanesian Socialism can be accounted for in terms of the dynamics of regional politics and thematically it does differ little from the Pacific Way. But Melanesian Socialism is not merely a vehicle to promote co-operation between Melanesian states. It is also supposedly a charter for the creation of a Melanesian socialist society in Vanuatu. In this sense it must be understood in the context of Vanuatu as a nation (ibid.: 186).

As Howard points out, the emergence of Melanesian Socialism in Vanuatu paradoxically coincided with the increasing penetration of capitalism. Since independence, the consolidation of the privileges of the Port Vila bourgeoisie has been based on programs designed "to encourage foreign investment (investment, incidentally in those areas with the largest potential profits) and help local capitalists to benefit from some of the spin-offs. Is this socialism or an alliance between national and international capital?" (ibid.: 195).

Given the challenges of nation-building, the watchword of Melanesian socialism was undoubtedly "development". But for a country that, shortly after independence, was still 75% rural, with 32% of the population living solely on a subsistence economy (ibid.: 188), development imposed a series of political and cultural choices. The Melanesian Way was an attempt to move away from the colonial forms of traditionalism and paternalistic capitalism of the pre-independence era in order to establish a centralist
vision of economic development better suited to the productivist criteria and interests of a modernist ruling elite:

[Melanesian Socialism] was, in effect, a conflict between two variants of capitalist relations of production, the first being a form developed earlier under indirect rule which relied on the articulation of two modes of production with the chiefs serving as intermediaries and the second a more advanced form of capitalist penetration that no longer required chiefs or tradition (except to entice tourists) (ibid.: 180).

Official discourse in Vanuatu encouraged controlled development that would not undermine the communal village base of the new nation. Melanesian Socialism, however, was supposedly more suited to Vanuatu's situation, precisely because it was supposed to provide the country with both a Melanesian and a socialist blueprint for development. But in the face of economic realities, the general and abstract principles of the programs of the country's leaders since independence have become hollow slogans. National interests inevitably benefited the ruling class. As for the penetration of globalized forms of liberalism, the result in Vanuatu has been the increasing impoverishment of the rural population, the marginalization of self-sustaining communities and the concealment by the local bourgeoisie of the emergence of new urban subaltern classes as disadvantaged as the rural milieus from which they emerged.

Given this situation, what would have been the originality of Melanesian Socialism in Vanuatu? According to Howard:

[Lini and his partners] set themselves two main goals at the outset: to bring the country together and improve its economic performance. Additional goals, in keeping with their overall view of the kind of society they wished to create, included promoting rural development, greater self-reliance, localization of ownership and employment and preservation of their cultural and environmental heritage. All reasonable goals that most socialists would support in principle, as would many capitalists for that matter (ibid.: 190-191).

The only dimension of the Vanuaaku Pati program that might have appeared somewhat socialist was highly centralized planning (the national planning department
was directly attached to the Prime Minister's office), with dogmatic overtones, which was to lead to economic independence in 1996 in three progressive phases (cf. David 1997: 121-123). Walter Lini and the members of his party, without having any precise idea of the historical models of socialism, always claimed socialist inspiration in relation to the cultural heritage and the idea of a Melanesian specificity of which they claimed to be the guardians: "future patterns of our society which I have referred to elsewhere as 'Melanesian socialism', must be based on not only the creation of income, employment and health, but also on its egalitarian distribution" (Lini 1984: i).

In this respect Melanesian Socialism was, according to Howard, a mere argument in a discourse on cultural identity whose traditionalist inspiration was intended to guarantee controlled and balanced development. Otherwise, in reality:

> Development in Vanuatu strongly resembles standard capitalist development planning for the Third World. Socialism is not a prevalent factor in the country. [...] In comparison with other Pacific Island nations, Vanuatu seems in fact to be one of the least "socialistic" in terms of such criteria as state ownership of financial institutions and the means of production (Howard 1983: 193).

As an ideology, however, Melanesian Socialism was not particularly original. Whether from the point of view of the integration of the Republic of Vanuatu into a regional whole or in the way in which this country underwent the effects of globalization. Against all odds, it remained in line with the dominant international order. Vanuatu did not provoke any substantive dissonance on the international scene. Indeed, the transfer of sovereignty was only agreed once the political reliability of the new state was guaranteed and institutional stability could be put forward as a guarantee of political continuity through its integration into a regional economic entity.

Regenvanu, a keen observer of local political life and now a leading Vanuatu politician, clearly outlined the organizational details of the transfer:

> The discourse of Melanesian socialism presided over an orthodox pattern of national change characteristic of the contemporary's world "development" project, an integral part of which was the formation of a new ruling class whose *raison d'être* demanded the continuation of the colonial structures and imperatives (Regenvanu 1993: 1).
In trying to give concrete form to the general ideas of Melanesian Socialism within the institutional framework bequeathed by the former trusteeship powers, while preserving the spirit of its original doctrine, its ideologists came up against insurmountable obstacles. Their task was made all the more difficult by the fact that Melanesian Socialism was presented in the shorthand of the kastom discourse as opposed to the principles that had governed the colonial order in the archipelago for over a century:

> It was a society increasingly shaped by capitalist, individualist and materialistic motives. If Melanesian Socialism was to bring about a radical change in social, economic and political structures, its task would have been nothing less than revolutionary change (Premdas 1987: 112).

What is striking about this interplay of contradictions is the power of concealment employed by Melanesian socialism. The alibi of Melanesianity and the survival/resurrection of an archaic culture that the nationalist elites have been using does not seem very convincing in the light of their actual practices and means. The purity of their intentions and the credibility of their culturalist arguments are somewhat dubious, given the ideological vagueness behind which they took refuge. For Premdas, Melanesian Socialism disavowed itself on at least two of its main foundations, Melanesianity and the postulated quality of values inherited from an ancestral tradition:

> Overall, the external sources of Melanesian socialism - Christianity, nationalist ideology ('the Melanesian Way') and the Tanzanian factor - added to the egalitarian aspects of Melanesian culture provided the ideological compass for Vanuaaku Pati politics. It is clear that Melanesian socialism is not uniquely Melanesian (Premdas 1987: 112).

> [Melanesian socialism] is intended to serve as an abstract political roadmap to guide the Vanuatu ship of state to certain destinations. As a practical guide, however, it provides a poor overview of the waters to be navigated. It is based on too few principles: communalism, sensitivity and sharing. It does not offer a theory or definition of the purpose of man and society, although it can be interpreted as a collectivist social structure with strong humanist overtones. But the range of its prescriptions is too broad and too abstract to serve as a model for the development of concrete policies (ibid.: 124-125).
If Premdas questions the coherence of Melanesian socialism as an embryonic ideology, it is because it had no idealistic dimension and was content with its instrumental function. It was indeed an ideology because its agents could assert a break with the colonial order and claim control over the direction of change only in a dogmatic mode. But it was above all a nationalist ideology in that, as Rengenvanu points out, it allowed its proponents to identify themselves with the state and to concentrate the process of nation-building in the hands of the new leaders alone:

> More fundamentally, however, independence institutionalised the position of a new ruling class in Vanuatu. Legitimised by their education and a nationalist ideology which appropriated for the state the role of guardian of the nation, a small minority was able to gain the privileges accruing from their control over the affairs of the state, and use its agencies to subjugate other groups in national society to their dominant discourse. However, as the legacy of the larger agenda for social change embodied in this discourse became increasingly apparent, the hegemony of the national elite, and thus the legitimacy of the state, became increasingly tenuous (Regenvanu 1993: 41).

Another revealing trend in Melanesian socialism was the erosion of its content in favour of only one of the orientations of its original discourse, which unanimously emphasized the social role of an omnipresent and all-encompassing state model kastom. This rhetorical shift coincided with the country's constitutional crisis at the end of the 1980s, which this ideology was largely responsible for triggering. Since then, Vanuatu's ruling class as a whole has adhered to a single, all-encompassing traditionalist discourse, suddenly more openly supporting the utopian prospect of capitalism with a human face, adapted to the island's social environment, indeed a Melanesian capitalism.

## Conclusion

Should we speak of the Pacific Way as a "vanished dream", as suggested by the title of a special issue of the *Journal de la Société des Océanistes* in the early 1990s (Panoff 1991), or as an ideology abandoned in favor of a "Pacific vision", a "Pacific plan" for economic adaptation detached from any culturalist ideal (Babadzan 2007: 85)? Rather than equating the Pacific Way with an ideology that never came to fruition, which remained in embryo, or with an ideology that failed to achieve its assigned goal of nation-building, it seems to me more measured to follow Tomlinson's analysis.
This author insists on a Pacific Way that, as a way of thinking about fraternity, has been able to sustain itself and develop in the manner of an Oceanian theology, under the combined influence of the great diversity of the churches and the presence of countless cultural specificities (Tomlinson 2019). In particular, this Pacific theology includes a discourse on development that is not preoccupied by neo-colonial influences and pressures. In this respect, it has little in common with models of revolutionary theologies that have emerged on other continents, and even less with recent aberrant political radicalizations of religion.

In the specific case of Vanuatu, it seems more convincing to assert that the Pacific Way or the Melanesian Way cannot be considered to have produced an effective ideology constructive of a pan-Pacific or pan-Melanesian identity, insofar as: 1/ References to these philosophies, doctrines or ideological ferments were mainly made in the run-up to independence and have become increasingly absent in the post-colonial period, except as an instrument of blackmail in the context of bilateral aid to the post- or neo-colonial powers of the region. 2/ These slogans, such as Melanesian Socialism, which was perhaps the most politically doctrinaire and the closest to a revolutionary ideological intention, never reached the urban or rural masses and remained confined to the transnational bourgeoisie who relied on these discourses for their own legitimacy. 3/ Finally, in a country like Vanuatu, the Melanesian way and Melanesian Socialism very quickly gave way to a discourse of *kastom*, which became the real ideological driving force behind nationalism, the nationalist invention of a cultural synthesis based on the diversity of traditions in the guise of a unified national identity. By comparison, PNG, Solomon Islands, Fiji and New Caledonia's Kanak people do not give *kastom* or custom the same place in their nationalist propaganda. The discourse on *kastom* in Vanuatu is certainly the most developed, as its claims also emanate from competing separatist movements, including the John Frum movement in Tanna and the Nagriamel movement in Santo (Tabani 2002).

It would be inappropriate to conclude by revisiting the debate on the "reinvention of traditional cultures in Melanesia" (Keesing & Tonkinson 1982), which began in the early 1980s and has never been completed. Let us simply stress that the emergence of a state *kastom* ideology (of a modern traditionalist tradition, as opposed to the traditional forms of strict traditionalism) is accompanied by the contemporary
invention of a cultural continuity; a rupture dressed up as continuity that is therefore
far from revolutionary, but has, instead, many reactionary aspects. This invention is in
fact ideological in the strongest sense of the word, and its political action is directed
towards the suppression of competing kastom if not separatist ideologies.

This discourse on kastom, both in its state form and in the form of separatist movements, has affected not only the ruling elites but also the urban and rural masses to a very large extent. In Vanuatu, it represents the most developed aspects of an ideology: the affirmation of a national kastom as an expression of the diversity of local cultures, of diversity within unity. The abandonment of the Melanesian Way or Melanesian Socialism in favour of a state kastom was confronted in Vanuatu by syncretic, neo-pagan and micro-nationalist forms of affirmation of kastom, which preceded state nationalism in Vanuatu. These competing customary movements led the nationalists to push their own traditionalist rhetoric very far, resulting in the production of particularly rich and ambivalent discourses on tradition and identity in Vanuatu. These discourses lend themselves to political use by governments, parties, religious communities and institutions, and the social masses, whether rural or urban. As David Akin (2004) points out for the Solomons, kastom as a culture has allowed culture to be identified with kastom, a kastom that is both a political symbol of a postulated unity and a factor of creativity within contemporary Melanesian culture.

The foundations of kastom as a state ideology, as a discourse of cultural continuity, have been widely contested by anthropologists who have insisted on its constructivist aspects, including Keesing, Tonkinson and Babadzan among the first. The latter saw the invention of a continuity between pre-colonial and post-colonial cultural identities as a denial of the self-legitimation of indigenous elites trained under colonization to assume their leadership functions at independence. For these elites, colonization was merely a parenthesis in the affirmation of a resilient cultural identity over a period of almost 3,000 years. To achieve this, ethnologists combined the Pacific Way, the Melanesian Way and the ideology of kastom. In this way, they invented this triptych. This invention of ideological continuity between the three components of the same variant has no raison d'être. It offers support to a conservative counter-revolution that has ended up contaminating the doctrinal aspects of antagonistic movements by considering them as competing ideologies. The diversity of discourses on kastom in Vanuatu, especially those that predate the nationalist version, testifies to a desire to return to