E Mālama i ka Maluhia: Legacies of Peace from Tahiti and Hawaiʻi - Leilani Basham

Titre: E Mālama i ka Maluhia: Legacies of Peace from Tahiti and Hawaiʻi - Leilani Basham
extracted text: E MĀLAMA I KA MALUHIA: LEGACIES OF PEACE
FROM TAHITI AND HAWAIʻI

Leilani Basham, Ph.D.

University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa / Associate Professor

O ke au i kahuli wela ka honua
O ke au i kahuli lole ka lani
O ke au i kuka‘iaka ka la
E ho‘omalamalama i ka malama
O ke au o Makali‘i ka po
O ka walewale ho‘okumu honua ia

At the time that turned the heat of the earth,
At the time when the heavens turned and
changed,
At the time when the light of the sun was subdued

O ke kumu o ka lipo, i lipo ai
O ke kumu o ka Po, i po ai
O ka lipolipo, o ka lipolipo

To cause light to break forth,
At the time of the night of Makali (winter)
Then began the slime which established the
earth,
The source of deepest darkness.
Of the depth of darkness,
Of the depth of darkness,

O ka lipo o ka la, o ka lipo o ka po
Po wale ho—‘i
Hanau ka po

Of the darkness of the sun, in the depth of night,
It is night,
So was night born.

Hanau Kumulipo i ka po, he kane
Hanau Po‘ele i ka po, he wahine […]
Po—no—

Kumulipo was born in the night, a male.
Pole was born in the night, a female. […]
It is night / It is proper.

Source: Kalākaua, He pule hoolaa
alii: He kumulipo no Ka-I-imamao,
a ia Alapai Wahine, Pa‘iia e ka Hui
Pa‘ipalapala Elele, 1889.

Source: Lili‘uokalani, The Kumulipo: An Hawaiian
Creation Myth, Pueo Press, original publication
1897.

Kumulipo: Ancient Genealogical Connections
The genealogical mele that opens this paper, the Kumulipo, is more than a chant of
origins; it is a declaration of interconnection—between land and people, past and present,
and across the vast ocean that binds the islands of Polynesia. These genealogies, layered
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in poetic imagery, serve as historical records, political statements, and cultural affirmations. In the context of this paper, they offer an entry point into the intertwined lives of two
extraordinary aliʻi (chiefly) women: Ariitaimai of Tahiti and Queen Liliʻuokalani of Hawaiʻi.
Despite being born over a decade apart and separated by thousands of miles, these
two women navigated remarkably parallel paths. As members of the highest chiefly ranks
in their respective societies, they were raised in cultural traditions that valued not only
lineage and leadership but also diplomacy and duty to their people. Both witnessed the increasing pressures of colonial expansion and foreign influence, and both were ultimately
placed in positions where they had to choose between resistance and preservation. The
decisions they made—choosing peace over immediate political power—continue to shape
the historical memory of their nations.
This paper explores their genealogical connections, their formative years, and
their roles in pivotal moments of Tahitian and Hawaiian history. It examines how both
women, through leadership and sacrifice, embodied a commitment to their people that
extended beyond their personal status as aliʻi. By highlighting the ways in which their lives and choices reflected deeper cultural values and political realities, this paper seeks
to underscore the enduring significance of their legacies in contemporary discussions of
sovereignty, justice, and Indigenous leadership in Oceania.

Kolo ke Ēwe i ke Ēwe: Ancestral Connections of Moʻokūʻauhau &
Moʻolelo
The genealogy of the Kumulipo–a Hawaiian creation chant–firmly establishes
connections between Kānaka Maoli, our islands, and our shared histories across Moananuiākea–Oceania. In addition to recording or documenting Kānaka Maoli connection to
the earth, the Kumulipo also records our common moʻokūʻauhau—or genealogical and familial connections—to the people of Kahiki–Tahiti. Specifically, in line 1,975 of the Kumulipo, we see the birth of Ulu and Nanaulu recorded. In this section, as recapped by Martha
Beckwith, “To Kiʻi is born by his wife Hinakoʻula, a famous name in Hawaiian romance,
the two sons ʻUlu and Nanaʻulu, names common to other Polynesian genealogies of chiefly line. To one or the other of these two all Hawaiian chiefs trace their line of descent.”
(Beckwith, Kumulipo, p. 116)
Liliʻuokalani was the first person to translate and publish the Kumulipo in 1897,
following the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom. While the Kumulipo was traditionally
added to with each subsequent generation, following Western contact and the chanting of
this mele at the birth of Kalaniʻīamamao, it was not continued as a practice amongst aliʻi.
Nevertheless, as the descendant of this genealogy and of Kalaniʻīamamao, in Liliʻuokalani’s publication of the translation, she did include her own genealogy at the very end,
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following the conclusion of the chant, no doubt in order to make it clear that her connection, not just to Kalaniʻīamamao, but to all of the ancestors in the Kumulipo, including, of
course, ʻUlu.
In the genealogies of Tahiti, these same two names Ulu/Uru and Nana are seen. According to S. Percy Smith in the Journal of the Polynesian Society, Vol. 2, No. 1, from March
1893,
“The first name on the list, Uru, is one known both to Hawaiians and to the
Maoris, and both people trace a descent from one of that name, but it is very
difficult to prove that this is the same person; it is indeed more probable
that this Uru is a descendant of the two brothers Ulu and Nana of Hawaiian
history or of Uru and Ngangana (or Ngana) of Maori history. It was by no
means uncommon—more especially in early times—for a name to descend
from father to son for several generations, as indeed is well illustrated in
this table, where the name Rai (or in Maori, Rangi) is found five times in succession. […]
Fornander shows clearly that there are two well-defined lines of descent
in Hawaii, the one originating with Ulu—whose descendants were the later occupants of that group—the other, which he terms the Nana-ulu line,
originating from Nana, whose descendants arrived at the Sandwich Islands
many generations before the first. The former people came from the southern groups, from Samoa, Tahiti, &c. Hawaiian traditions refer to them as
brothers; the Maori traditions show that Ngangana was a son of Uru’s.”
Given the multiplicity of naming across generations, it may be unclear which exact
“Ulu” and “Nana” are being referred to in these genealogies of Hawaiʻi and Tahiti (and the
rest of Polynesia), and yet the consistent recording of these names in our mele and our
genealogies is more than sufficient proof of our common ancestry.

Pilina Moʻolelo: Literary & Cultural Connections
While genealogical ties firmly establish the interconnectedness of Hawaiʻi and Tahiti, these connections were further maintained and reinforced through shared moʻolelo—our histories and literatures—our mele—songs, chants, dances, and our cultural practices. For Kānaka Maoli, these moʻolelo—literatures include our Akua (God) of Fire and
Volcanic activity, Pele, and her entire family. Our moʻolelo teach us that Pele came from
here, from Polapola specifically and we know that Tahiti’s moʻolelo also speak of Pele. In
more recent times, the migrations and trans-Pacific travel of Moʻikeha and Laʻamaikahiki,
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and Paʻao, too, are also recorded in the moʻolelo of Hawaiʻi. As such, the connection between Hawaiʻi and Kahiki was maintained in the hearts, minds, and knowledge-bases of
the Hawaiian and Tahitian people. This longstanding awareness of shared genealogies,
language, and cultural practices has informed diplomatic and familial ties between Hawaiʻi and Tahiti for centuries. We have always been aware of these connections and soon
after connections were re-established in the early 1800s, the aliʻi/ari’i134 and kānaka/tangata of Hawaiʻi and Tahiti pursued and established several paths for diplomatic exchange
and interaction. In his book, A Power in the World, on the Hawaiian Kingdom in Oceania,
Lorenz Gonschor documents the diplomatic relationship between Kamehameha I of Hawaiʻi and Pōmare I of Tahiti dating back to 1810, which continued since then. Given these
shared genealogical and cultural ties, it is significant that both Liliʻuokalani and Ariitaimai, born during times of increasing colonial pressure, navigated their roles as leaders in
remarkably parallel ways.

Nā Aliʻi Wahine Liliʻuokalani & Ariitaimai: Introductions
Though separated by thousands of miles and born fourteen years apart, Ariitaimai
of Tahiti and Liliʻuokalani of Hawaiʻi lived strikingly parallel lives. Both were born into the
highest ranks of their societies, raised in cultural traditions that emphasized leadership,
responsibility, and service to their people. Their formative years unfolded against the
backdrop of increasing foreign influence, as colonial powers sought to reshape their homelands’ political and social landscapes. Despite these challenges, both women navigated
their way to positions of authority, ultimately finding themselves at the center of defining
moments in their nations’ histories. Their choices, shaped by the values of their chiefly
lineages, continue to influence historical narratives and Indigenous political thought in
Oceania today.
The parallels between these two aliʻi women are striking:
•
•
•
•

Both were of high-ranking aliʻi (chiefly) descent and raised with the
responsibilities of leadership.
Both were born during periods of immense social and political change due to
expanding colonial influence.
Both married foreign men at a time when such unions were uncommon for aliʻi
women.
Both ascended to positions of political authority in times of turmoil.

134 The Hawaiian term aliʻi and the Tahitian term ari’i both refer to the chiefly class in their respective societies.
These terms, derived from a shared Polynesian linguistic and cultural heritage, indicate individuals of high status
who held political, social, and religious authority. While their specific roles and structures varied between islands,
aliʻi in Hawaiʻi and ari’i in Tahiti functioned as leaders responsible for governance, diplomacy, and maintaining the
well-being of their people. For clarity, this paper retains the original term when referring to each woman within
her respective cultural context.

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•

Both were confronted with the challenge of safeguarding their peoples’
sovereignty against colonial aggression.

•

Both chose diplomacy and negotiation over military resistance, sacrificing
their own political power to protect their people from bloodshed.

•

Both recorded their experiences, leaving behind written accounts that provide
invaluable insight into the political and cultural struggles of their time.

Hānau a Hānai ʻia he Aliʻi: Born and Raised as Aliʻi
Genealogy, as evidenced by its recording in the Kumulipo, was of paramount importance for the aliʻi of both Hawaiʻi and Tahiti. In their memoirs, their introductions of
themselves are grounded foremost in these genealogies.
Ariitaimai writes:
“I was the eldest child of Tapua Taaroa and Marama, born probably in 1824,
at Vaiari. From my father I received the name Teriirere i Tooarai; from my
mother the name of Ariioehau; and as I had been claimed by Pomare, I received from his side the name Taaroa, although he was dead before I was
born. In old days the eldest child of a head-chief was always carried at its
birth to the family Maraes as sacred, with offerings to the Gods. In the island
society any person who could say that one of his parents had been carried to
the Marae asserted his high birth; any one who could say that both parents
had been carried stood at the head of society; but anyone who could say that
all four of her parents, by birth and adoption, had been carried, enjoyed a
rare social distinction, and therefore even the Pomares, far from showing
jealousy, regarded and treated me as one of themselves.” (Ariitaimai, in Tahiti, pp. 174-175)
In her memoir, originally published in 1898, Lili‘uokalani writes the following about
her own genealogy:
“My father’s name was Kapaakea, and my mother was Keohokalole; the
latter was one of the fifteen counsellors of the king, Kamehameha III.,
who in 1840 gave the first written constitution to the Hawaiian people. My
great-grandfather, Keawe-a-Heulu, the founder of the dynasty of the Kamehamehas, and Keoua, father of Kamehameha I, were own cousins […], and
my great-grandaunt was the celebrated Queen Kapiolani, one of the first
converts to Christianity.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 5)
Later on, she expands on this genealogy, showing the centrality of her direct ancestors to the formation of the Hawaiian Kingdom, writing that
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“Naihe, the husband of Kapiolani, was the great orator of the king’s [Kamehameha’s] reign; his father, Keawe-a-Heulu [Liliʻuokalani’s grandfather],
was chief counselor to Kamehameha I; while had it not been for the aid of
the two chiefs, Keeaumoku and Kameeiamoku, cousins of the chief counsellor, the Hawaiian Islands must have remained for a long time, if not until
this day, in a stay of anarchy.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 6)
In addition to genealogy as an important form of identity for aliʻi, another similar
cultural value and practice that both Queen Liliʻuokalani and Ariitaimai experienced was
that of hānai or adoption.
Of her own experience, Liliʻuokalani wrote:
“But I was destined to grow up away from the house of my [biological] parents. Immediately after my birth I was wrapped in the finest soft tapa cloth,
and taken to the house of another chief, by whom I was adopted. Konia, my
foster-mother, was a granddaughter of Kamehameha I, and was married
to Paki, also a high chief; their only daughter, Bernice Pauahi, afterwards
Mrs. Charles R. Bishop, was therefore my foster-sister. In speaking of our
relationship, I have adopted the term customarily used in the English language, but there was no such modification recognized in my native land
[here, she’s referring to the “foster” in “foster-sister”] […].” (Liliʻuokalani,
1972, p. 7)
Once again, we can see many similarities to Ariitaimai’s own story when she writes
that
“Children in this communistic society were as much the objects of exchange
or gift, as any other article of property, and were begged quite as commonly.
Although I was born at Vaiari, the Papara people at once claimed me, and
built for me a special house, the fareoa, usually built for the children of Arii,
and sacred even to the parents. […] This arrangement was broken up by Terito, Pomare’s widow, who carried out the idea of her husband by claiming
me, and by coming to Papara to take me away; which she actually did, and
carried me to Papaoa, the Pomares’ residence in Arue.” (Ariitaimai, in Tahiti,
p. 175)

Kuleana & Pono: Responsibility to Kin and Community
Both Ariitaimai—born “probably in 1824”—and Liliʻuokalani—born in 1838—were
living in a time of great change in their socio-economic, and political lives due to the colo144

nial period in which they were living. That being said, they were born early enough within
that colonial period to still be participants and actively engaged and living within their
own cultural contexts. Because of this, they were both perhaps hyper aware that many of
the social norms that they were raised to participate and engage in were considered unusual to the American, British, and French who were settling and occupying their countries.
Because of the nature of colonial encounters and power imbalances present therein it’s
not just a matter of differences in cultural practices, but the assumptions of superiority
and inferiority, civilized and primitive that were often present in colonial encounters. The
practice of hānai—or adoption—was one of the cultural practices that was considered
unusual, and Liliʻuokalani’s comment here is representative of her awareness, when she
writes about hānai that
“It is not easy to explain its origin to those alien to our national life, but it
seems perfectly natural to us. As intelligible a reason as can be given is that
this alliance by adoption cemented the ties of friendship between the chiefs.
It spread to the common people, and it has doubtless fostered a community
of interest and harmony.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 8)
In addition to the practice of hānai, both of these women were also compelled to
defend their own positionality as aliʻi and both of them articulate their understandings of
their position from their Tahitian- and Hawaiian-world views and perspectives. Ariitaimai
explains that
“Every one who has tried to tell the story of Tahiti has had to struggle with
this idea of kingship, and none has yet made it intelligible to Europeans. I
shall not try, because the idea was so far from distinct in the islanders themselves that until one has dismissed from one’s mind the notion of government such as Europeans conceived it, one must always misunderstand the
South Seas […] and our chiefs were Arii, not kings.” (Ariitaimai, in Tahiti,
pp. 6-7)
Liliʻuokalani seems to help clarify some of these misunderstandings related to the
differences between our Aliʻi and Western ideas of kings and royalty. Liliʻuokalani writes:
“For the purpose of enhancing the value of their own mission, it has been at
times asserted by foreigners that the abundance of the chief was procured
by the poverty of his followers. To any person at all familiar, either by experience or from trustworthy tradition, with the daily life of the Hawaiian
people fifty years ago, nothing could be more incorrect than such assumption. The chief whose retainers were in any poverty or want would have felt,
not only their sufferings, but, further, his own disgrace. […] It is true that
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no one of the common people could mortgage or sell his land, but the wisdom of this limitation is abundantly proved by the homeless condition of
the Hawaiians at the present day. Rent, eviction of tenants, as understood in
other lands, were unknown; but each retainer of any chief contributed in the
productions of his holding to the support of the chief’s table.” (Liliʻuokalani,
1972, p. 8)
Through these explanations, both Ariitaimai and Liliʻuokalani clearly demonstrate
the centrality of Aliʻi to their personal and national identities, but also how these practices
are fundamentally different from Western conceptualizations and practices.

Kui ʻia a Paʻa Pono: Their Marriages and Political Positionalities
Marriage for aliʻi and ari’i was never purely a personal matter; it was deeply intertwined with genealogy, politics, and social status. In the rapidly changing colonial landscapes of the 19th century, the choices that aliʻi women made in marriage carried even
greater weight, shaping not only their own positions but also the political dynamics of
their nations. Both Liliʻuokalani and Ariitaimai made unconventional choices in this regard, each marrying a foreign husband at a time when such unions were rare. Their marriages reflected not only personal alliances but also strategic decisions that influenced
their roles as leaders navigating the complexities of sovereignty, diplomacy, and shifting
power structures.
In the case of Ariitaimai, she married Alexander Salmon, a British merchant, who
came to Tahiti in 1841 at the age of 20. Ariitaimai explains the challenges given the context
of Tahiti at that time, writing that
“Among other laws which the English missionaries were supposed to have
obtained to prevent strangers from obtaining influence in the island, was
one of March 1, 1835, forbidding strangers under any pretext, from marrying
in Tahiti or Moorea. I did not choose to marry any native then to be found in
the island. Terito, the queen mother, tried to get up a match between me and
one of the Raiatea chiefs, but my mother, Marama, did not think the marriage good enough. Finally I decided to marry Mr Salmon, an Englishman
who had general esteem and consideration in the island; and Aimata suspended the law in order to enable her friend to be married.” (Ariitaimai, in
Tahiti, p. 177)
Liliʻuokalani, on the other hand, married John O. Dominis, from New York in the
U.S., who came to Hawaiʻi with both of his parents in 1837, at the young age of 6. Raised in
Honolulu, he attended the Royal School, where Liliʻuokalani and other aliʻi children were
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also educated. He worked in business in Hawaiʻi and San Francisco, and when home, he
was frequently in social circles with Liliʻuokalani. He didn’t become a naturalized Hawaiian
citizen until 1861, one year prior to their marriage. Liliʻuokalani writes:
“I was engaged to Mr. Dominis for about two years, and it was our intention
to be married on the second day of September, 1862. But by reason of the fact
that the court was in affliction and mourning [Prince Edward, son of Kamehameha IV and Queen Emma had just passed away at age 4], our wedding
was delayed at the request of the king.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 33)
She goes on to describe the ceremony itself, stating that “to it came all the high
chiefs then living there, also the foreign residents; in fact, all the best society of the city”
(Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 33).
While these two Aliʻi wahine no doubt had their own reasons for marrying
non-Kānaka men, it seems pretty apparent that both of these non-Kānaka men increased
their own social, economic, and political positions by leaps and bounds. For Salmon, he
served as secretary to Queen Pōmare. For Dominis, in Hawaiʻi, within less than two years
of his marriage to Liliʻuokalani, he was named as a member of King Kamehameha V’s
Privy Council, and went on to serve in the House of Nobles, was Governor of Oʻahu, and of
course, eventually Prince Consort upon the Queen’s ascension to the throne.

Alahele Nihinihi: Precarious Political Positions
For aliʻi and ari’i, leadership was often a precarious path, shaped by shifting political landscapes, external pressures, and the ever-present responsibility to their people.
Both Ariitaimai and Liliʻuokalani found themselves at critical junctures in their nations’
histories, where colonial forces threatened not only their sovereignty but also the very
fabric of their societies. Though separated by nearly half a century, each woman was faced
with a defining choice: to resist foreign incursion through conflict or to seek a path of negotiation and peace. In both cases, their decisions—to prioritize the well-being of their
people over their own political power—would leave lasting legacies that continue to shape
historical memory in Tahiti and Hawaiʻi today.
According to her account, Ariitaimai refused her own potential path to the throne
in this process, and instead negotiated tirelessly for peace between the involved parties in
order to end the war. Ariitaimai writes that she
“requested the governor to allow me some time to go out and see if I could
not make peace with these people. Before authorizing these steps, however,
he sent for the commander of the troops, who informed us after his arri147

val, that orders had gone out to the outpost at Point Venus to prevent any
people passing to the native armies beyond, and that in order for me to pass,
it would be necessary that an officer should be sent with us.” (Ariitaimai, in
Tahiti, p. 182)
Here, and throughout her relating of this history, it’s clear that peace and the saving
of lives was Ariitaimai’s only goal and objective with repeated references to her goal “to
offer peace to the natives” (p. 183), referencing her “peaceful intention” (p. 184) and reiterating her objective “to bring peace” (p. 185). Once she’s able to stand in front of the ari’i
gathered, she once again voiced her proposal for peace, which was recognized and affirmed by the ari’i present, in turn. Following these negotiations, Ariitaimai is then entrusted
to negotiate the peace with Queen Pōmare, a responsibility which she and her husband
continued to negotiate with the Queen and various groups over the next several months’
time until Pōmare finally returns and agrees to rule under the Protectorate, thereby allowing for the maintenance of some form of Tahitian independence through the 1800s.
In the case of Liliʻuokalani, she actually was named as the heir apparent by her brother, King David Kalākaua in 1877, when their younger brother Leleiohoku, who had been
the heir apparent, passed away unexpectedly. When she was named as the heir apparent,
she writes that
“From this moment dates my official title of Liliuokalani, that being the
name under which I was formally proclaimed princess and heir apparent
to the throne of my ancestors. Now that this important matter had been decided by those whom the constitution invests with that prerogative, it became proper and necessary for me to make a tour of the islands to meet the
people, that all classes, rich and poor, planter or fisherman, might have an
opportunity to become somewhat acquainted with the one who some day
should be called to hold the highest executive office.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972,
p. 422)
Her brother’s reign was rather extended, from 1874 until his death in 1891, when
Liliʻuokalani ascended the throne of Hawaiʻi and became Queen of the Hawaiian Kingdom.
Upon her ascension, she began receiving petitions from her people to reinstate the monarchical power that had been stripped from her brother with the Bayonet Constitution
of 1887.
Two years after her ascension, in January, 1893, the Queen attempted to promulgate a new constitution. This act was used as motivation by which foreign and American
businessmen orchestrated the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom. They were able to
achieve this with the collusion of the U.S. Minister to Hawaiʻi, John L. Stevens who orde148

red U.S. naval troops ashore and stationed them across from the ʻIolani Palace and the
government building even though they had supposedly been brought ashore to protect
American lives and property.
Although the Kingdom forces and citizenry outnumbered the U.S. forces, Queen
Liliʻuokalani made a request to her people, made from the front of ʻIolani Palace, commanding them “E mālama i ka maluhia,” or to “Maintain the peace.” Similar to the position advocated by Ariitaimai, Liliʻuokalani also made repeated reference to the choice for
peace. In the statement in which she yielded her authority to the superior forces of the
U.S. military, she wrote:
“Now, to avoid any collision of armed forces, and perhaps the loss of life, I
do, under this protest and impelled by said forces, yield my authority until
such time as the government of the United States shall, upon the facts being
presented to it, undo the action of its representative, and reinstate me in
the authority which I claim as the constitutional sovereign of the Hawaiian
Islands.” (Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 422)
Following this, Liliʻuokalani never regained the throne even though President Grover Cleveland recognized that the U.S.’s involvement in the overthrow of the Hawaiian
Kingdom constituted an “act of war,” and recognized that its sovereignty be reinstated and
the Queen returned to the throne (Cleveland statement to U.S. Congress on the Matter of
Hawaiʻi, 1893). In 1895, following the failed attempt by several hundred Kānaka Maoli to
re-establish the sovereignty of Hawaiʻi through violent means, the Queen was arrested,
charged in a military tribunal and then imprisoned in ʻIolani Palace for 9 months, followed
by house arrest for another 9 months.
Ultimately, both Tahiti and Hawaiʻi end up as colonial possessions of France and the
U.S., and yet the legacies of both of these aliʻi women live on in their descendants and for
their people. Their legacies of peace and justice serve as examples for us of the contemporary era who continue to work for the lives, health, education, and sovereignties of our
peoples and islands for this and future generations.

Pili Kumulipo, Pili Au Hou: Continuous Connections
Beyond the individual experiences of Ariitaimai and Liliʻuokalani, other figures
from their extended chiefly lineages further illustrate the enduring relationships between Tahitian and Hawaiian aliʻi. One such connection is found in the life of Ariitaimai’s sister, Ariininito Taaroa Tati, known affectionately as “Ninito.” As a result of the
long-standing diplomatic and familial ties between Tahiti and Hawaiʻi, Ninito traveled to
Hawaiʻi and married John Kapilikea Sumner, a member of a prominent Hawaiian aliʻi family. Their union not only reinforced political alliances between the two island nations but
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also highlights the ways in which chiefly families navigated trans-Pacific relationships in
the 19th century.
In his book on the life of Hawaiian John T. Baker, a Hawaiian diplomat who traveled
extensively throughout Tahiti in the 19th century, Kealani Cook describes the important
relationships maintained between the aliʻi (and non-aliʻi also) of Tahiti and Hawaiʻi. Cook
describes it as follows, writing that
“Ninito Salmon [had] traveled to Hawaiʻi in the 1850s and married into the
prominent hapa-Haole Sumner family, moving back and forth between
Hawaiʻi and Tahiti through much of her adult life. Ninito and other prominent Tahitians, such as her cousin Princess Maiaula Tehuiarii, who also
married into the Sumner family, established a strong social connection
between the Hawaiian and Tahitian elite. As a result, prominent Tahitians,
including the Salmons, occasionally visited Hawaiʻi and joined in the Honolulu social scene either temporarily or permanently.” (Cook, p. 169)
There are several articles in the Hawaiian language newspapers that reference Ninito, this one here documenting her and her husband’s travels between Hawaiʻi and Tahiti.
Appearing in the newspaper, Ke Au Okoa, on 26 September 1867, it was reported as follows:
“Ua hala i Bolabola.—I ka holo ana aku nei a ka moku kuna Aorai, i Bolabola,
i ka la Sabati iho nei, ua kau aku maluna ona o John Sumner (Kapilikea,) a
me kana aliiwahine Niniko […] He pilikana ka ka Kapilikea aliiwahine no Pomare, a ma kana kauoha mai nei oia i hoi aku nei e ike i kona aina hanau a
me kona hiiia ana.” (Ke Au Okoa, Volume III, Number 23, 26 September 1867)
“Sailed to Borabora.—When the schooner Aorai sailed to Borabora, on this
past Sunday, John Sumner (Kapilikea) and his aliʻi wahine Niniko […] Kapilikea’s wife is a familial relation Pomare, and it was on her [Pomare’s] command that she returned to the place she was born and raised.” (Translation
by Basham)
In Liliʻuokalani’s memoir and her diary, there are several references that make it
clear that she was not only familiar with, but close friends with Ninito. Soon after her marriage, Liliʻuokalani and her husband were invited by Prince Lot (soon to be King Lunalilo) to
take a trip to Hawaiʻi island with several other couples, stating that “invitations were also
extended to Mr. And Mrs. John Sumner,” who are explained in the footnote on that page as
“John K. Sumner (b. 1820, Honolulu-d. 1915, Mokapu, Oahu), son of Captain William Sumner and his Hawaiian wife Hua. He married Ninito, a Tahitian princess (d. 1898, Honolulu).
Occurring soon after their marriage, Liliʻuokalani writes that the trip “became really my
bridal tour” and that “we were gone many weeks, but the time passed away delightfully”
(Liliʻuokalani, 1972, p. 39).
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Soon thereafter, a concert and celebration were held to commemorate Lā Kuʻikahi,
the recognized independence day of the Hawaiian Kingdom in celebration of the signing
of diplomatic treaties between Hawaiʻi, Great Britain, and France, “oia ka manawa i ike ia
mai ai o Hawaii ma ka helehelena Kuokoa” (“which was the time that Hawaiʻi was recognized as befitting Independence”). The concert was held at Kawaiahaʻo Church, where
several groups came out and shared songs and readings from the Bible. According to the
newspaper,
“Komo mai ka poe o ka apana elua, a mele mai i kekahi mele Bolabola. O ka
mea kiekie V. K. Kaahumanu a me Mrs. Ninito Sumner kekahi i oli pu mai ma
ka olelo Bolabola i keia mele.” (Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 2 December 1861)
“The members of the second group entered, and sang a Bolabola135 song.
The honorable V. K. Kaʻahumanu and Mrs. Ninito Sumner were among those
who chanted this song in the Bolabola language.” (Translation by Basham)

(“Ka La Kuikahi!” Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 2 December 1861.)
135 “Bolabola” is an alternative spelling of “Polapola,” the name of one of the islands in what is now French
Polynesia.

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This article places Ninito in close proximity to her honorable V. K. Kaʻahumanu,
whose full name was Victoria Kamāmalu Kaʻahumanu, Kuhina Nui—Premier—of the
Hawaiian Kingdom. From this and other evidence, it’s clear that Mrs. Sumner was a favorite amongst the aliʻi wahine of Hawaiʻi. These relationships with various aliʻi were maintained over the next several decades as demonstrated by Queen Liliʻuoakalani’s reference
to Ninito in her diary several months after the overthrow, on Wednesday, July 26, 1893.
Liliʻuokalani recorded that she
“Wrote a long letter to Ninito [Sumner] telling her about our situation, that
I am living in confinement waiting the decision of the U.S. For this reason, it
would not be well for Arii paea Kealatane Ariimanihinihi and Kamakahuila
to come now and make me a visit—but to wait till everything was settled,
then when they come everything would be in peace [and] then they would
enjoy their visit.” (Liliʻuokalani, 2019, p. 365)
Ninito and her husband, do eventually return to Hawaiʻi, as is reported in the
Hawaiian language newspaper on January 11, 1897, where it is written that a “mokumahu”
(“steamship”) had arrived from Tona (Tonga) mai and from Rarotona (Rarotonga) also, noting that
“A ma ia moku like no i hiki mai ai o J. Kapilikea Sumner (Keolaloa) a me Alii
Ninito, kana wahine Alii o Polapola.” (Ka Makaainana, 11 January 1897)
“It was on the same ship that J. Kapilikea Sumner (Keolaloa) and his Aliʻi Ninito, his Aliʻi wife from Polapola (Borabora).” (Translation by Basham)
Unfortunately, Ninito Sumner passed away in Honolulu in 1898. Her passing is reported in the newspaper in several articles. In an article published on 22 July 1898, it was
reported that
“Ma ka hora 2 a oi o ka auina la o ka Poakolu nei, Iulai 20, i haalele mai ai i keia
ola ana ke ‘Alii’ Ninito o Polapola, ka wahine a John Kapilikea Sumner, ma ko
laua wahi noho ma Alanui Beretania. Ua hala aku la oia ma kela aoao i ka 60
o kona mau makahiki. O Tahiti kona one hanau, aia malaila ka nui o kona
ohana, a he koko pili loa oia i na ali‘i koikoi oia wahi.”
“It was a little after 2 o’clock on the afternoon of this past Wednesday, July 20,
that the ‘Aliʻi’ Ninito of Polapola, wife of John Kapilikea Sumner, left this life,
at their residence on Beretania Street. She passed at the age of 60 years. Tahiti was her birthplace, that is where the majority of her family are, and she
is a very close relation to the important aliʻi of that place.”

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Her passing was also announced in Ka Malamalama Hawaii on 1 August 1898, and
then, a week later, in August 1898, a letter was published in the newspaper from a “Mrs. Lilia Topati” and “Mr. Topati” who they identify as “na pilikoko o ka mea i make, Ninito,” or
“family members of the person who had died, Ninito”. In the body of the letter, directed to
Ninito’s husband, “Mr. Sumner Kapilikea,” they write:
“No laila, e hooholoia Ke komo pu aku nei makou a pau e auamo pu me oe i
na haawina o ka ehaeha i ili iho maluna ou […] a ke nonoi pu ae nei makou i
ka lokomaikai o ka Makua Lani e hoomana ae i Kou mau kaumaha a na kona
Mana e malama a kiai ia oe.” (Ka Loea Kalaiaina, 6 August 1898)
“Therefore, let it be resolved that we all are with you in carrying the burdens
of grief that have descended upon you […] and we are requesting the blessings and generosity of the Heavenly Father to strengthen you in your sadness and it is his Power that will care for and guard over you.” (Translation
by Basham)
What’s clear from the multiple articles referencing her and her husband’s presence in Hawaiʻi and traveling back and forth between Tahiti and Hawaiʻi, and then in the
information and aloha shared at her passing, is that Ninito, as an Ari’i wahine of Tahiti,
had found a home in Hawaiʻi, and family who loved her, and had created a further bond
between Hawaiʻi and Tahiti that extends to today.

Panina: “Ku mai o Kalani Aimoku”
This paper concludes by offering a mele composed in honor of Liliʻuokalani, encapsulating the legacies of these aliʻi women and for Ninito as well. It was composed in
1881 and printed in the Hawaiian language newspaper, Ko Hawaiʻi Pae Aina on August 6,
1881. Liliʻuokalani had been named as regent by her brother, then King David Kalākaua,
as he went on his world tour. It’s a mele that honors genealogy and our connection to the
cosmos, to our islands, and to our people—and to the continuation of our sovereign lands,
nations, and peoples.
The histories of these women not only offer insight into their individual legacies
but also reflect broader themes of Indigenous governance, sovereignty, and resilience in
the face of colonial expansion. Their lives exemplify a commitment to peace that continues to hold significance today.

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Ka uila me ka hekili
Ke ānuenue piʻo i ka lewa
Ka punohu ʻula i ka lani
Ka ua koko i ka moana
E lei ʻia kō wehi hanohano
E Liliʻuololokuikekapu

The Ruling Chief stands before us/reigns
Born in the time of ʻIkuwā
The royal center of sanctity
The woman is truly sacred
Belonging to the glory of Papa
Belonging to Papanuihānaumoku (Earth
Mother)
Belonging to the bays of Piʻilani
Along with the sacred cliffs of Kākaʻe
Belonging to the heiau of Pakaʻalana
These adornments are sacred for the
royal one
The lightning and thunder
Rainbows that arch in the skies
The red-tinted rainbow on the horizon
The red rain on the ocean
Let your glory be adorned
E Liliʻuololokuikekapu

He inoa no Liliʻuokalani

A name chant in honor of Liliʻuokalani

Ko Hawai‘i Pae Aina, 6 August 1881.

Translation by: Leilani Basham.

Kū mai ʻo Kalani ʻAi Moku
I hānau ʻia i ʻIkuwā
Ka ʻōnohi lani o ke kapu
Kapukapu wale ka wahine
No ka hiwahiwa a Papa
No Papa nui hānau moku
No nā hono aʻo Piʻilani
Me ka pali kapu aʻo Kākaʻe
No ka heiau aʻo Pakaʻalana
Kapu ia wehi no ka lani

Works Cited
Adams, Henry, Tahiti: Memoirs of Arii Taimai, ed. Robert E. Spiller, New York, Scholars’
Facsimiles and Reprints, 1947.
Beckwith, Martha Warren, The Kumulipo, a Hawaiian Creation Chant, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1951.
Cook, Kealani, Return to Kahiki: Native Hawaiians in Oceania, Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press, 2018.
“E Malama i ka Maluhia,” Hawaii Holomua, 18 January 1893.
“The Genealogy of the Pomare Family of Tahiti,” from the papers of the Rev. J. M. Orsmond, With Notes thereon by S. Percy Smith, The Journal of the Polynesian Society, Volume 2, No. 1, March 1893, pp. 25-42.
Gonschor, Lorenz, A Power in the World: The Hawaiian Kingdom in Oceania, Honolulu,
University of Hawaiʻi Press, 2019.
“He Hooaloaloha no Mrs. Ninito Sumner,” Ka Loea Kalaiaina, 6 August 1898.
“He Wehi no Kalani,” Ko Hawaiʻi Pae Aina, 6 August 1881.
“Huli Hoi Mai a Eia Iho,” Ka Makaainana, 11 January 1897.
Kalākaua, He pule hoolaa alii: He kumulipo no Ka-I-imamao, a ia Alapai Wahine, Honolulu, Pa‘iia e ka Hui Pa‘ipalapala Elele, 1889.
Ke Au Okoa, Volume III, Number 23, 26 September 1867.
“Ka La Kuikahi: Ka Umu o Ke Aloha,” Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 2 December 1861.
Lili‘uokalani, and David W. Forbes, The Diaries of Queen Liliuokalani of Hawaii, 18851900, ed. David W. Forbes, Honolulu, Hui Hānai, 2019.
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Lili‘uokalani, Hawaii’s Story, 1 st Tut Book ed., Rutland, C.E. Tuttle Co., 1972.
Lili‘uokalani, The Kumulipo: An Hawaiian Creation Myth, Kentfield, Pueo Press, 1978.
“Na Ki Pu Aloha,” Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 19 February 1876.
“Na Nuhou Kuloko,” Ka Malamalama, 1 August 1898.
“Ua Hala i Bolabola,” Ke Au Okoa, 26 September 1867.
“Ua Lele Ke Aho o Mrs. Ninito Sumner Kapilikea,” Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, 22 July 1898.

Abstract
Born about 14 years apart, “probably in 1824” and in 1838 respectively, and separated by more than 2,000 miles between Tahiti and Hawaiʻi, two women—Ariitaimai and
Liliʻuokalani—each played critical roles in political negotiations on behalf of their respective countries and against their colonial oppressors. Although these violent encounters
occurred nearly 50 years apart, the parallel aspects of the encounters and the lives of
these two women are noteworthy, perhaps especially given the shared historical, social,
and political connections between Hawaiʻi and Tahiti.
For this presentation, while the focus is largely on Liliʻuokalani, I compare her life,
actions, and experiences to those of Ariitaimai, beginning with their genealogies and formative years, as both were born to the chiefly class of aliʻi/ari’i and thereby born and raised
to be leaders of their people. Not unusual within the traditions of both Hawaiʻi and Tahiti,
neither woman was raised by her own parents, but by close relatives and guardians, providing them with strong cultural foundations even within the colonial contexts in which
they were living.
Ariitaimai, as a close member of the ruling Pōmare family, matured to her political
position much quicker than did Liliʻuokalani, who was not directly connected to the ruling
Kamehameha dynasty of Hawaiʻi, and whose ascent to power then took significantly longer. As such, while Ariitaimai was interceding and negotiating between Tahiti and France
in 1846, it took nearly 50 more years for Liliʻuokalani to ascend the throne of Hawaiʻi and
be in a position to make her stance between Hawaiʻi and the United States in 1893. Although their decisions were separated by several decades, both of these women leaders,
Ariitaimai and Liliʻuokalani, were at the center of similar situations and sought similar solutions to them. In the context of violent confrontation and warfare (or imminent warfare
in the case of Hawaiʻi), both of these women persistently advocated and acted for peace. In
the case of Ariitaimai, she sacrificed her own potential path to the throne in this process,
while she negotiated tirelessly for peace between the involved parties in order to end the
war.
Comparably, Liliʻuokalani’s instruction to her people was “E mālama i ka maluhia”
or “Maintain peace,” when they demanded justice, and she ultimately ceded her authority
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and position as the sovereign to the superior force of the U.S. military in order to avoid
violent confrontation between them and her own forces and also to avoid any loss of life.
Ultimately, the legacies of both of these aliʻi/ari’i women are those of peacekeepers who
sacrificed their own political power for the literal lifeblood of their people. Even though
they were ultimately unable to maintain the independent governments of their two nations, they each left a lasting legacy of peace and aloha for this and future generations.
Dr. Leilani Basham is of Kānaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) descent tracing her genealogy to Koʻolauloa, Oʻahu and Kekaha, Kauaʻi. She has taught Hawaiian Language
and Hawaiian Studies at the University of Hawaiʻi for nearly 30 years and is currently
an Associate Professor of Hawaiian Studies at Kamakakūokalani Center for Hawaiian
Studies, UH-Mānoa. She teaches undergraduate and graduate courses that allow for the
intersection of her multi-disciplinary educational background in History and Political
Science, along with her training as a Hula practitioner on topics related to Hula (Dance),
Oli (Chant), Mele (Music, Poetry), Wahi Pana (Place Names), and the historical, literary,
political, and cultural contexts that make up their backgrounds. Her research interests
include mele lāhui (nationalist poetry) and moʻolelo wahi pana (place name history, literature).

Résumé
« E mālama i ka maluhia : héritages de paix de Tahiti et de Hawai‘i »
Si environ quatorze années séparent la reine Lili‘uokalani de Hawai‘i, née en 1838,
et Ariitaimai, qui vit le jour à Tahiti « probablement en 1824 », chacune de ces deux dames
a joué un rôle crucial dans l’histoire de son pays, à plus de quatre mille kilomètres l’une de
l’autre. Lors des négociations politiques qu’elles ont été appelées à mener au nom de leurs
nations respectives face à la violence de leurs oppresseurs coloniaux, même si ces rencontres ont eu lieu à cinquante ans d’écart, le parallèle entre leurs actions et leurs vies apparaît en effet de manière évidente et ce, compte tenu, sans doute, des liens historiques,
sociaux et politiques qui existent entre Hawai‘i et Tahiti.
Cette présentation particulièrement centrée sur Liliʻuokalani établit néanmoins
un parallèle entre sa vie, ses actions et ses expériences, et celles de Ariitaimai, en commençant par leurs généalogies et leurs jeunes années, puisque toutes deux, issues de la
classe dominante des ali‘i/ari’i, étaient par définition nées et élevées pour devenir des meneuses de leur peuple. Caractéristique courante dans les traditions locales de Hawai‘i et
de Tahiti que partagent ces deux femmes de haut rang, aucune d’elles n’a été élevée par
ses propres parents, mais par des parents proches, voire des tuteurs, qui leur ont inculqué
des bases culturelles solides, en dépit du contexte colonial dans lequel elles vivaient.
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Ariitaimai, en tant que membre proche de la famille régnante Pōmare (elle était la
fille adoptive de Pōmare II), a acquis une maturité politique beaucoup plus rapidement
que Lili‘uokalani, qui, pour sa part, n’était pas directement liée à la dynastie régnante des
Kamehameha de Hawai‘i, et dont l’ascension au pouvoir a donc nécessité bien plus de
temps. Ainsi, alors que Ariitaimai intercédait et négociait au nom de Tahiti auprès de la
France en 1846, il fallut près de cinquante ans de plus à Liliʻuokalani pour monter sur le
trône de Hawai‘i et être en mesure de prendre position et s’interposer entre son pays et les
États-Unis en 1893. Bien que leurs décisions aient été prises à plusieurs décennies d’intervalle, ces deux femmes de pouvoir, Ariitaimai et Liliʻuokalani, se sont trouvées au cœur
de situations similaires, auxquelles elles ont cherché à apporter des solutions identiques.
Dans un contexte d’affrontements violents et de guerres (ou de guerre imminente dans
le cas de Hawai‘i), elles ont toutes deux constamment plaidé et agi en faveur de la paix.
Dans le cas de Ariitaimai, ses inlassables négociations avec les parties en présence, afin
de mettre un terme à la guerre et ramener la paix, l’ont amenée à sacrifier sa propre et
potentielle accession au trône.
De façon similaire, lorsque son peuple réclamait justice, Lili‘uokalani n’avait de
cesse de préconiser la paix à travers son message, « E mālama i ka maluhia », qui signifie
« maintenir la paix ». Elle ira même jusqu’à abandonner son autorité et céder sa position
de souveraine à la force supérieure de l’armée américaine, évitant ainsi une confrontation violente entre la puissance étrangère et ses propres armées, qui aurait causé la perte
de nombreuses vies humaines. L’image que laissent en héritage ces deux femmes aliʻi/
ari’i est celle de pacificatrices, qui n’ont pas hésité à sacrifier leur propre pouvoir politique
au profit de la survie et du bien de leur peuple. Même si elles n’ont, en définitive, pas été
en mesure de maintenir l’indépendance de leurs nations, elles ont néanmoins légué un
héritage durable de paix et d’amour à leur génération ainsi qu’aux générations futures.
De descendance Kānaka Maoli (Hawaiienne de souche), le Dr. Leilani Basham tire
ses origines de Koʻolauloa, Oʻahu et Kekaha, Kauaʻi. Elle a exercé en tant que professeur de
langue et d’études hawaiiennes à l’Université de Hawai‘i pendant près de trente ans et elle
est actuellement maître de conférences en études hawaiiennes au Kamakakūokalani Center
for Hawaiian Studies, UH-Mānoa. Elle enseigne dans le premier cycle et dans les cycles supérieurs. Outre sa formation pluridisciplinaire en histoire et en sciences politiques, elle excelle
également dans le domaine de la danse hawaiienne et son expertise dans ce domaine lui
permet d’associer à son enseignement des sujets en rapport avec le Hula (la danse), les Oli
(chants et arts déclamatoires), les Mele (arts de la musique et de la poésie), le Wahi Pana (la
toponymie), ainsi que les contextes historique, littéraire, politique et culturel dans lesquels
ils s’inscrivent. Ses recherches portent notamment sur le mele lāhui (la poésie nationaliste)
ainsi que le moʻolelo wahi pana (l’étude de la toponymie au prisme de l’histoire et de la littérature).

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Fait partie de E Mālama i ka Maluhia: Legacies of Peace from Tahiti and Hawaiʻi - Leilani Basham