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Anthony M. La Puente, 44, recovers items from his house in the aftermath of a wildfire in Lahaina, western Maui, Hawaii on August 11, 2023.
As we look forward to how we not only rebuild, but work to reduce the threat of these climate change-fueled disasters, we have to change who is leading this work.
In the wake of the Maui fires, Governor Josh Green moved to prevent the sale of land to outside investors in an effort to prevent disaster capitalism, a common pattern we’ve seen play out in the wake of disasters from Hurricane Katrina to the tsunami in Thailand. This is an important first step to prevent further displacement of Native Hawaiians, but it only scratches the surface of a deeper issue.
In the days after the devastating wildfires on Maui, we saw patients with burns, wounds, infections, chronic disease flare-ups, displacement and, overwhelmingly, mental health crises. Neither of us would have ever imagined experiencing such a tragic crisis as a physician or seeing the amount of devastation right here at home. Treating these patients—and hundreds of Native Hawaiians in our careers—brings to life what research shows: When Native Hawaiians’ connection to land is severed, we suffer.
This is because when the land is sick, so are we.
Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Human-triggered climate change is the latest environmental injustice threatening Native Hawaiian health and wellness. The Maui fires make this clear. The causes of the fires are complicated, but climate change played a key part. Climate change causes stronger, more frequent storms and droughts, and we see that in Hawai‘i, which is suffering worsening drought conditions, despite being surrounded by ocean. Dry conditions and dangerous wind changes produced by Hurricane Dora fueled the fires.
In responding to this disaster and charting a path forward, we need to look to those with the greatest commitment to acting as stewards of Hawai‘i. Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Colonization changed Hawaiʻi’s natural landscape, through deforestation for sugarcane, pineapple, and cattle. Water from mountains was redirected from natural streams and aquifers to flow instead through concrete irrigation ditches, feeding golf courses and hotels. Fire-prone invasive grass species replaced native vegetation.
As we look forward to how we not only rebuild, but work to reduce the threat of these climate change-fueled disasters, we have to change who is leading this work. An important solution is stewardship of land by Native people. Indigenous peoples maintain sustainable relationships with their environment and recognize and respond to environmental changes in creative ways, drawing on traditional knowledge and science to find solutions that can help society at large. When Native communities have sovereignty to take care of the land, it helps everyone.
This work of respecting Native Hawaiian leadership is already happening. We are both kiaʻi (stewards) of sacred places, like Loko Iʻa Pāʻaiau, a 400-year-old royal fishpond at Pearl Harbor that was contaminated with fuel from military operations. Restoration of Pāʻaiau is one example of how allowing Hawaiians to practice aloha ʻāina—to honor and advocate for land so it will sustain all inhabitants—leads to increased community well-being and resilience, as demonstrated by the return of healthy native plants, animals, human descendants, and relationships in the area. Restoration remains incomplete until the flow of freshwater from the mountains is restored, but stewardship efforts persist forward, through a collaborative community-based partnership with the U.S. Navy, Native Hawaiians, and the larger community, centered around a practice of aloha.
There is a lot of blame going around right now; we do need to look at how the Maui fires happened, but we must focus on moving forward. That can only happen when Native Hawaiians are central to the decision making surrounding how our land is treated.
Tradition teaches that Hawaiians descend from nature gods; thus, to heal Native Hawaiians, we must heal the 'āina that sustains us. Like our connections with those who love and nurture us, our relationship with ʻāina dramatically influences overall health and wellness. If we are able to progress with centering land practices around Indigenous knowledge and rights, Hawai‘i can model how to recover from climate-related disasters in ways that build safer, healthier futures for our children and future generations.
Preventing outsiders from buying land in Lāhainā is important, but only preserves a troubled status quo. We need to build a better future, one that is informed by Native Hawaiians’ shared history, knowledge, and connections with the land. We need Native Hawaiians on the land, and at the table.
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In the wake of the Maui fires, Governor Josh Green moved to prevent the sale of land to outside investors in an effort to prevent disaster capitalism, a common pattern we’ve seen play out in the wake of disasters from Hurricane Katrina to the tsunami in Thailand. This is an important first step to prevent further displacement of Native Hawaiians, but it only scratches the surface of a deeper issue.
In the days after the devastating wildfires on Maui, we saw patients with burns, wounds, infections, chronic disease flare-ups, displacement and, overwhelmingly, mental health crises. Neither of us would have ever imagined experiencing such a tragic crisis as a physician or seeing the amount of devastation right here at home. Treating these patients—and hundreds of Native Hawaiians in our careers—brings to life what research shows: When Native Hawaiians’ connection to land is severed, we suffer.
This is because when the land is sick, so are we.
Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Human-triggered climate change is the latest environmental injustice threatening Native Hawaiian health and wellness. The Maui fires make this clear. The causes of the fires are complicated, but climate change played a key part. Climate change causes stronger, more frequent storms and droughts, and we see that in Hawai‘i, which is suffering worsening drought conditions, despite being surrounded by ocean. Dry conditions and dangerous wind changes produced by Hurricane Dora fueled the fires.
In responding to this disaster and charting a path forward, we need to look to those with the greatest commitment to acting as stewards of Hawai‘i. Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Colonization changed Hawaiʻi’s natural landscape, through deforestation for sugarcane, pineapple, and cattle. Water from mountains was redirected from natural streams and aquifers to flow instead through concrete irrigation ditches, feeding golf courses and hotels. Fire-prone invasive grass species replaced native vegetation.
As we look forward to how we not only rebuild, but work to reduce the threat of these climate change-fueled disasters, we have to change who is leading this work. An important solution is stewardship of land by Native people. Indigenous peoples maintain sustainable relationships with their environment and recognize and respond to environmental changes in creative ways, drawing on traditional knowledge and science to find solutions that can help society at large. When Native communities have sovereignty to take care of the land, it helps everyone.
This work of respecting Native Hawaiian leadership is already happening. We are both kiaʻi (stewards) of sacred places, like Loko Iʻa Pāʻaiau, a 400-year-old royal fishpond at Pearl Harbor that was contaminated with fuel from military operations. Restoration of Pāʻaiau is one example of how allowing Hawaiians to practice aloha ʻāina—to honor and advocate for land so it will sustain all inhabitants—leads to increased community well-being and resilience, as demonstrated by the return of healthy native plants, animals, human descendants, and relationships in the area. Restoration remains incomplete until the flow of freshwater from the mountains is restored, but stewardship efforts persist forward, through a collaborative community-based partnership with the U.S. Navy, Native Hawaiians, and the larger community, centered around a practice of aloha.
There is a lot of blame going around right now; we do need to look at how the Maui fires happened, but we must focus on moving forward. That can only happen when Native Hawaiians are central to the decision making surrounding how our land is treated.
Tradition teaches that Hawaiians descend from nature gods; thus, to heal Native Hawaiians, we must heal the 'āina that sustains us. Like our connections with those who love and nurture us, our relationship with ʻāina dramatically influences overall health and wellness. If we are able to progress with centering land practices around Indigenous knowledge and rights, Hawai‘i can model how to recover from climate-related disasters in ways that build safer, healthier futures for our children and future generations.
Preventing outsiders from buying land in Lāhainā is important, but only preserves a troubled status quo. We need to build a better future, one that is informed by Native Hawaiians’ shared history, knowledge, and connections with the land. We need Native Hawaiians on the land, and at the table.
In the wake of the Maui fires, Governor Josh Green moved to prevent the sale of land to outside investors in an effort to prevent disaster capitalism, a common pattern we’ve seen play out in the wake of disasters from Hurricane Katrina to the tsunami in Thailand. This is an important first step to prevent further displacement of Native Hawaiians, but it only scratches the surface of a deeper issue.
In the days after the devastating wildfires on Maui, we saw patients with burns, wounds, infections, chronic disease flare-ups, displacement and, overwhelmingly, mental health crises. Neither of us would have ever imagined experiencing such a tragic crisis as a physician or seeing the amount of devastation right here at home. Treating these patients—and hundreds of Native Hawaiians in our careers—brings to life what research shows: When Native Hawaiians’ connection to land is severed, we suffer.
This is because when the land is sick, so are we.
Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Human-triggered climate change is the latest environmental injustice threatening Native Hawaiian health and wellness. The Maui fires make this clear. The causes of the fires are complicated, but climate change played a key part. Climate change causes stronger, more frequent storms and droughts, and we see that in Hawai‘i, which is suffering worsening drought conditions, despite being surrounded by ocean. Dry conditions and dangerous wind changes produced by Hurricane Dora fueled the fires.
In responding to this disaster and charting a path forward, we need to look to those with the greatest commitment to acting as stewards of Hawai‘i. Centuries before European settlers arrived in Hawai‘i, Native Hawaiians developed an elaborate and highly sophisticated public health system based on socioreligious tenets to ensure equitable access, availability, and distribution of natural resources to help minimize, if not eliminate, starvation and illness across islands with finite resources.
Colonization changed Hawaiʻi’s natural landscape, through deforestation for sugarcane, pineapple, and cattle. Water from mountains was redirected from natural streams and aquifers to flow instead through concrete irrigation ditches, feeding golf courses and hotels. Fire-prone invasive grass species replaced native vegetation.
As we look forward to how we not only rebuild, but work to reduce the threat of these climate change-fueled disasters, we have to change who is leading this work. An important solution is stewardship of land by Native people. Indigenous peoples maintain sustainable relationships with their environment and recognize and respond to environmental changes in creative ways, drawing on traditional knowledge and science to find solutions that can help society at large. When Native communities have sovereignty to take care of the land, it helps everyone.
This work of respecting Native Hawaiian leadership is already happening. We are both kiaʻi (stewards) of sacred places, like Loko Iʻa Pāʻaiau, a 400-year-old royal fishpond at Pearl Harbor that was contaminated with fuel from military operations. Restoration of Pāʻaiau is one example of how allowing Hawaiians to practice aloha ʻāina—to honor and advocate for land so it will sustain all inhabitants—leads to increased community well-being and resilience, as demonstrated by the return of healthy native plants, animals, human descendants, and relationships in the area. Restoration remains incomplete until the flow of freshwater from the mountains is restored, but stewardship efforts persist forward, through a collaborative community-based partnership with the U.S. Navy, Native Hawaiians, and the larger community, centered around a practice of aloha.
There is a lot of blame going around right now; we do need to look at how the Maui fires happened, but we must focus on moving forward. That can only happen when Native Hawaiians are central to the decision making surrounding how our land is treated.
Tradition teaches that Hawaiians descend from nature gods; thus, to heal Native Hawaiians, we must heal the 'āina that sustains us. Like our connections with those who love and nurture us, our relationship with ʻāina dramatically influences overall health and wellness. If we are able to progress with centering land practices around Indigenous knowledge and rights, Hawai‘i can model how to recover from climate-related disasters in ways that build safer, healthier futures for our children and future generations.
Preventing outsiders from buying land in Lāhainā is important, but only preserves a troubled status quo. We need to build a better future, one that is informed by Native Hawaiians’ shared history, knowledge, and connections with the land. We need Native Hawaiians on the land, and at the table.
