“The Ocean is Our Legacy:” Values of Care and Reciprocity

ABSTRACT

This essay examines contemporary nuclear and military impacts on the Pacific Ocean and environmental destruction perpetuated by Japan and the United States. It weaves together complex and overlapping histories of militarism that continue ecological violence in the Pacific, and it articulates connections among these legacies in local and global contexts. I argue that communication scholars must stop acquiescing to military security perspectives. Instead, scholars should directly condemn militaries as the world’s biggest contributors to greenhouse gas emissions and critique nuclear weapon states that exacerbate environmental devastation. Considering the 2023 cases of Fukushima–Daiichi radioactive wastewater dumping and Super Typhoon Mawar, I examine Indigenous cultural practices of care as responses from island communities in Micronesia and their diasporas.

KEYWORDS:

• Climate justice
• military
• nuclear
• Pacific Ocean
• Indigenous

In August 2023, the global surface temperature was 1.15 degrees Celsius above the twentieth century average, the Earth’s hottest since recorded-keeping began in 1880. That month the Japanese government also began dumping more than 1.2 million tons of radioactive wastewater from the Fukushima–Daiichi nuclear power plant into the Pacific Ocean. Sweltering heat mixed with millions of tons of toxic water stirs up the question: how do we care for ourselves as water and air are poisoned? In relation to climate change and related impacts caused by militarism, island communities in Micronesia and diasporic populations in California, U.S.A. are already addressing this question through critiques of nuclearism and by practicing care in local and global contexts. Focusing on opposition to the Japanese government’s radioactive dumping and to the military’s impacts on the environment, I share select examples of commitments and care that continue to push for demilitarization.

A critical site from which to resist the United States’ empire of military bases, the Pacific Ocean has become a “proving ground,” a theater for war, and a highway for nuclear waste and submarines (Bahng, 2020; Hobart, 2021; Perez, 2021). The U.S. military exercises destroy coral reef and marine habitats, include live-fire trainings in protected conservation areas, and blowing up decommissioned ships. This violence waged against the environment comes with impunity as there are no mandates for clean-up and no oversight to stop military presence and its cascading impacts on the entire Pacific. Addressing the climate crisis from a position of care must include critiques and explicit actions to end the structural forces of global militaries contributing to and perpetuating climate injustice in the first place. Rather than starting from the premise that the military should be among the first responders to address climate crises, we must recognize and begin from the fact that the military industrial complex is the most significant contributor to global greenhouse gas emissions. Yet rarely are the world’s militaries scrutinized for their carbon footprint or their expansive budgets that exacerbate environmental devastation (Bigger et al., 2023).

The military’s concern with climate change is solely focused on the threats it poses to bases, operations, and national security. Acquiescence to this security perspective and protecting military institutions is disappointingly widespread within communication studies (Chávez, 2012, 2019; Na'puti & Taitingfong, 2024a). When critical attention is given to the military it is overwhelmingly to shore up support for it rather than dismantle it and end global military violence writ large. For example, in a 2022 forum about extremism and white nationalism in the U.S. military, scholars touted critical perspectives yet argued the communication discipline should fully support military combat readiness and mission success. All the authors eschew longstanding calls for actions and critical applied scholarship that demand demilitarization and disarmament. Furthermore, Environmental Communication has rarely published research challenging global militaries or addressing the environmental impacts of the U.S. military that poses threats to air, land, and ocean. Thus, more critical scholarship of the military's environmental impacts is needed, full stop. To create “the world we hope to manifest,” we must also address eco-ableism and continuously engage global toxic militarism as disabling (Cram et al., 2022, p. 858).

This world must heed what Maureen Penjueli, co-ordinator of the Pacific Network on Globalisation voices, “the Pacific is not a dumping ground for radioactive waste water” (Wilson, 2022). Peoples of the Pacific hold concerns over nuclear waste and harbor mistrust against nuclear-weapon states (NWS). These NWS such as the U.S., Great Britain, and France maintain stockpiles and perform nuclear testing and detonation programs (Heaton, 2023; Macumber et al., 2023; Philippe & Statius, 2021). The nuclear bombing programs of these NWS continuously poisoned Pacific waters in the Republic of Marshall Islands (RMI), Republic of Kiribati, and French Polynesia, inflicting long-term detrimental effects on the environment and health throughout Oceania (De La Torre, 2021; Diaz et al., 2020; Maurer, 2024 ; Taitano, 2023; Wheeler & Duong-Pedica, 2023). The implications of nuclearism through waste dumping, radiation, bombing, and testing are global concerns, as the ocean connects us all.

The RMI and Mariana Islands know all too well the impact of nuclear militarism and object to the cultural and environmental devastation looming from this latest iteration of poisoning the Pacific Ocean in the twenty-first century. In August 1945, the U.S. used nuclear weapons by launching bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki – the military planes carrying out these devastating violent attacks were launched from Tinian in the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (CNMI) (Na’puti & Taitingfong, 2024b). From 1946 to 1958 the U.S. also conducted 67 nuclear tests in the RMI. In 1946, after the CROSSROADS Able and Baker tests, eighteen vessels from the fleet attempted to be decontaminated in Guåhan (Mitchell, 2020). In 1952, the U.S. detonated a hydrogen bomb in Elugelab that destroyed the island and produced high levels of radiation that reached Guåhan situated nineteen hundred kilometers away; the U.S. military classified this information resulting in the contamination of Guåhan being unknown for decades following the blast. Guåhan also experienced radioactive contamination from nuclear-powered vessels the U.S. military brought to the island in 1975, between 2006 and 2008, and in 2014 (Mitchell, 2020). In 1979, the Japanese government provoked backlash when it revealed its unilateral plans to dump 10,000 drums of nuclear waste into the Mariana Trench; this decision was made without consulting government officials of the Northern Mariana Islands, Guåhan, or other Pacific Island nations (Babauta, 2021; De La Torre, 2021; Heaton, 2023). In December 2023, the U.S. Conference Committee dropped a proposed expansion to the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA) that would have finally recognized the peoples of Guåhan in the program for paying compensation to victims of nuclear weapons testing and development (Pacific Island Times, 2023, December 7; Taitano, 2023). These select issues from twentieth century history index the contemporary situation of nuclear secrecy, colonialism, and contamination from U.S. and Japanese empires (Center for Constitutional Rights, 2023; de Jong et al., 2023; Hobart, 2021).

Pacific peoples have disproportionately endured the human costs of nuclearism, and Japan dealt another catastrophic and irreversible blow that the region has not consented to by discharging tons of radioactive wastewater from Fukushima–Daiichi (Tau & Mangioni, 2021). This burden also reaches beyond the Pacific Ocean. From Okinawa, South Korea, and Pasifika communities worldwide, protesters continue demanding an end to the Fukushima–Daiichi dumping; this is an unprecedented amount of waste with no conclusive evidence that the treated discharge is safe, nor any understanding of the long-term destruction it will create (Heaton, 2023; Hofschneider, 2023a). It is necessary to connect struggles against militarization and securitization to historical layers of institutional violence (Pellow, 2023). Even if Fukushima dumping continues, involving Indigenous perspectives of care for the environment and the convergence of climate justice, racial justice, and nuclear abolition movements marks a significant victory. Even as water and air are poisoned, people worldwide are caring for the environment as caring for ourselves (Pezzullo, 2020, 2023; Quizar, 2022; Whyte & Cuomo, 2016). This care is also reminiscent of earlier struggles and solidarity against nuclearism and the continuing lessons from the regional movement for a Nuclear Free and Independent Pacific (Griffen & Mangioni, 2020; Perez, 2021).

Indeed, Fukushima nuclear waste plans have been in the works for years, drawing fierce opposition from fishing communities and objections over the environmental impact (Conrad et al., 2023; Gunia, 2023; Hofschneider, 2023b). Similarly in April 2021 in response to Japan’s plans to begin dumping nuclear wastewater in 2023, Representative Sheila Babauta introduced House Joint Resolution 22-11 to the CNMI’s House of Representatives that opposes any nuclear testing, storage, or waste disposal in the Pacific Ocean (Babauta, 2021; Perez et al., 2023). Passed in December of 2021, the resolution also reaffirmed fundamental rights to a safe and healthy living environment and to free, prior, and informed consent (Heaton, 2023; Wilson, 2022). Babauta also stated “the ocean is our oldest ancestor. The ocean is our legacy.” (Heaton, 2023) She centers practices of care rooted in the understanding that there is no separation of self from our collective environment. Connecting the issue of nuclear waste with nuclear weapons, the Marianas remain a crucial place from which to challenge nuclearism as critical reflections of histories and present contexts provide opportunities for care beyond the confines of U.S. and Japanese militarism.

On September 5th, 2023, Senator Sabina Flores Perez created Resolution No. 93-37 to join the CNMI, Republic of Belau, and other Pacific Nations in urging the Government of Japan to consider alternatives to discharging the contaminated water from Fukushima into the Pacific Ocean. In Guåhan, at the hearing for Resolution 93-37, the effects of nuclear testing and its impact on future generations weighed on the minds of those in attendance. As Serena Polina stated, “We don’t just inherit the land from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.” This understanding of land is intertwined with our responsibilities for its care. Yet nuclear power relies on the belief that future generations will develop solutions for problems caused by nuclear energy, which defers caretaking commitments for our environment. Senator Perez is also the sponsor of Bill 151-37, which will ban nuclear reactors including the prohibition of construction, importation, or use of nuclear fission power plants, Small Modular Reactors (SMRs), and Nuclear Microreactors in Guåhan (Perez et al., 2023). These bills also communicate concerns from the Fukushima–Daiichi catastrophe as evidence of the risks of radiation exposure within the typhoon and earthquake-prone region and articulate that nuclear and military presence will exacerbate disaster recovery efforts (Taitano, 2023).

Situated in “typhoon alley,” the most concerning threats to the Mariana Islands are anthropogenic climate changes, with climate risks like erosion, extreme storms, and sea level rise threatening the entire archipelago (Na’puti & Frain, 2023; Pacific Islands Forum, 2023). Typhoons are also increasing in intensity, a trend that will likely continue, with implications for the well-being of all the Pacific Ocean. These environmental concerns are particularly crucial to address as the U.S. armed forces typically deploy rapid response in the form of disaster militarism (Na’puti, 2022), which also perpetuates ignorance about the harmful environmental activities of the U.S. military and their record of environmental contamination and pollution (Bigger et al., 2023; Center for Constitutional Rights, 2023). In sharp contrast to care, the military destroys environments with impunity while conveying itself as necessary for global disaster response. This phenomenon of militarized relief is often demonstrated in the aftermath of typhoons.

Just before midnight on May 24, 2023, Super Typhoon Mawar (hereafter, Mawar) a Category 4 cyclone struck Guåhan and was the strongest storm to hit the island in at least two decades. Mawar caused destruction with powerful 140 mile per hour winds that left an estimated 171,000 residents without power, utilities, or internet, which added to difficulties in determining the scope of the damage (Aguon, 2023; Bordallo & Kelleher, 2023; Moyer et al., 2023). Initial assessment estimated the island’s commercial sector suffered $112 million in damages and an approximate loss of $250 million (AON, 2023; Westerman, 2023). Prior to Mawar’s landfall, the Joint Region Marianas ordered all U.S. military aircraft and ships to leave the island demonstrating the lack of care for the civilian population and disregard for the island (Moyer et al., 2023). Then in the aftermath of Mawar’s landfall, the United States Navy ordered the USS Nimitz Aircraft Carrier Strike Group to Guåhan to assist with cleanup and recovery efforts (Bordallo & Kelleher, 2023). The military efforts for typhoon recovery are the antithesis of care. In sharp contrast to militarized response after Mawar, local recovery efforts from community groups in Guåhan such as Mañelu, the Micronesia Climate Change Alliance (MCCA), and Nihi Indigenous Media demonstrate care through cultural practices of reciprocity. They provided essential services and support resources to the most vulnerable (Aguon, 2023). This principle of reciprocity was also enacted by groups beyond the Mariana Islands.

In anticipation of Mawar and continuing throughout the recovery to-date, groups demonstrated care for Guåhan by collecting and sending assistance since May 2023. For example, from California U.S.A. the House of Chamorros worked with the Sons and Daughters of Guam Club in San Diego, Inafamaolek US in the San Francisco Bay Area, Kutturan CHamoru Foundation in Long Beach, and the Guam Club of Sacramento to organize “Inafa'maolek Mutual Aid ginen Sanlagu.” Their collective efforts for mutual aid included sending tarps for temporary shelters, fresh drinking water, over 10,000 diapers, over 12,000 wipes, kitchen supplies, and gardening supplies (House of Chamorros, 2023). From San Diego, the House of Chamorros also connected with local officials and groups like the MCCA in Guåhan to first determine the most pressing items needed for all affected by Mawar. This example demonstrates how situated care networks operate from cultural principles of inafa’maolek (Aguon, 2023), and they engage with collaboration and participatory decision-making to exemplify how mutual aid serves as a vital form of care in communities facing crisis and disaster (Hobart & Kneese, 2020). At the start of July 2023, more than 1,400 homes were still sustaining major damage from Mawar. The California groups collectively filled two forty-foot containers that arrived in Guåhan on July 6, 2023 (Charfauros, 2023).

Mutual aid for Guåhan was also organized by groups from Saipan, where Super Typhoon Yutu struck in 2018 (Na’puti, 2022). Demonstrating the practice of reciprocity, Our Commonwealth 670 organized with other community groups from CNMI. On July 14, 2023, the CNMI Indigenous Affairs Office, Office of Youth Affairs, and Music of Marianas Association organized an “Un Marianas Benefit Dinner” for Guåhan and promoted unity among the archipelago with the phrase “we are one” (Manglona, 2023). On August 5, 2023, the Kutturan CHamoru Foundation and the Sons & Daughters of Guam Club hosted a “Benefit Concert for Mårianas Mutual Aid” in San Diego, California. These select examples demonstrate continued enactments of care and reciprocity from the Marianas archipelago and ginen sanlagu (a place overseas). Such care provides a powerful mode of resistance and community building (Quizar, 2022). Through Chamoru principles of reciprocity these community groups practiced radical care as refusal, they disavowed the structures of colonialism that otherwise overdetermine the Mariana Islands, and they challenged disaster militarism.

As Indigenous human rights lawyer Julian Aguon reflects about Mawar,

We have an abiding respect for our elders and a rather elaborate system of cultural values—the heart of which is reciprocity. We have more words for reciprocity than any other word in our language. Guinahan Famaguo‘on. Chenchule’. Ika. I’ve seen this system in action every day since the storm. (2023)

Beginning from this principle of reciprocity also teaches us about care based on living in good relation with all that has existed for thousands of years. These examples demonstrate how island communities and their diasporas are challenging nuclearism and contending with environmental destruction from global toxic militarism. Such commitments and care are asserting life in ways that direct us toward conditions of possibility. They move us toward creating a world that sustains our air, land, water, and more-than-human relations. Weaving cultural practices and relationships with environments and peoples, these enactments help us honor the ocean as our oldest ancestor.

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No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by American Council of Learned Societies.