Many places in the world have competing national identities etched into their landscapes, especially in cases of colonialism. Notable examples include Quebec in Canada, Tibet in China, and Hawai’i in the United States of America. Rapa Nui (Easter Island) makes a great case study of this phenomenon as the only Polynesian island that was colonized by a Latin American country – Chile. As a result of its colonial past and present, competing Chilean and Rapa Nui national identities manifest themselves in the landscape of the island of Rapa Nui. For example, the Chilean flag is present around government buildings, the airport, and in taxis, while the Rapa Nui flag flies in front of homes and private businesses. The Spanish language is mostly heard in the streets of Hanga Roa, the only settlement on Rapa Nui. Meanwhile the Rapa Nui language, a close relative of the Tahitian language, is heard mainly in islander’s homes and at cultural and religious festivals and rituals.
Chile annexed the island in 1888, and to this day there is an active Rapa Nui independence movement. This movement does not recognize Chilean sovereignty on the island (see Figure 11), and its extensive protesting has helped the Rapa Nui community achieve a greater degree of autonomy and control over island resources in recent years. The Rapa Nui protesters cite their Polynesian ancestry, language, arts, and of course moai (enormous, mysterious statues, see Figures 3, 4, 6, 7, 8) as things that set them apart from the rest of Chile. The one thousand or so moai scattered around the island are an integral part of Rapa Nui heritage, and bolster Rapa Nui claims of indigeneity to the island. These impressive and mysterious stone structures pre-date Chilean colonization, and attest to the island’s Polynesian heritage and demonstrate the uniqueness of the Rapa Nui community. The original inhabitants of this island were and are Polynesian, but 135 years of Chilean governance of this Polynesian island have created a built landscape that is just as much Chilean as it is Rapa Nui in the twentyfirst century.
I spent three months on Rapa Nui in 2018 teaching English and conducting research on the impacts of the island’s tourism industry and Chile’s governance on the contemporary community of the island. The project entailed using qualitative field methods, including in-depth semi-structured interviews with Chilean and Rapa Nui individuals who live on the island, and quotes from several participants are included in this paper (with pseudonyms). I also conducted archival research in the island’s only library, attended cultural spaces and events like the island’s museum, indigenous dance shows, and Rapa Nui mass at the Catholic Church, and took many pictures of the natural and built landscape, some of which are included in this essay (all photos in this essay by Jesse Edward Tenenbaum in 2018).
Rapa Nui, also called Easter Island, is situated in the South Pacific Ocean, approximately 2,000 miles west of the coast of Chile, and approximately 2,500 miles southeast of Tahiti. It sits just a few degrees of latitude south of the tropic of Capricorn, giving the island a relatively mild climate year-round, with distinct wet and dry seasons – the wet season corresponding with their winter and the dry season during their summer months, which are the inverse of the northern hemisphere’s seasons. There is no land directly north of the island for about 3,000 miles, where Cabo San Lucas, Mexico is located, and no land south of the island for approximately 3,000 miles, where one reaches the shores of Antarctica. These extreme distances contribute to the island being deemed the most isolated inhabited island in the world (see Figures 1 & 2 for distances from other places around the world). The island itself is approximately 63 square miles and has a triangular shape, with extinct volcanoes forming each point of the triangle. For a size comparison, the island can fit inside Lake Tahoe (Nevada/California, USA) three times!
Since landscapes often provide a canvas for representing identity, groups within a territory will manifest their identity by making marks on the landscape, such as erecting flags, buildings, monuments, artwork, graffiti and other signs. The landscape on Rapa Nui serves as a canvas for competing claims of Rapa Nui and Chilean sovereignties and national identities. The importance of language as an expression of identity in the landscape cannot be understated. For example, Gade (2003) discusses the symbolic value of the French language in relation to Quebecois identity and nationalism and of the Catalan language in relation to Catalan identity and nationalism. Similarly, Rose-Redwood et al (2010) demonstrate the importance of place names to groups who claim a special connection with a place. On Easter Island the use of the Rapa Nui language and place names is an integral part of the expression of Rapa Nui identity (Latorre, 2001; Makihara, 2005), especially as symbolic resistance against political domination by Chile (Makihara, 2005). Figure 5 below provides a poignant example of Rapa Nui resistance to Chile’s presence on the island, with direct messages stating that the Chilean government is responsible for the hardships that indigenous peoples face in their country.
Anderson’s (1991) notion of “imagined community” in discussions of nationalism is relevant to the cases of Rapa Nui and Chile. In his work, Anderson postulates that feelings of nationalism persist among groups of people even though most people living in a state’s territory will likely never even meet one another, and therefore their comradeship is imagined. He cites the development of print capitalism as an influential factor in this phenomenon. The quicker and easier distribution of printed items allowed for a rise in literacy and language dissemination, which helped to solidify the use of particular languages in particular geographic areas, snowballing into larger ideas of nations based on shared languages (and other cultural practices) deserving of sovereignty in specific territorial boundaries. This idea is applicable to Chile’s structure as a nation-state, in that it is nearly impossible for all 18 million Chileans to meet and know each other closely. Therefore, it can be said that their comradery as individuals who are proud of their Chilean national identity is imagined. The case of nationalistic sentiment is different on Rapa Nui, because virtually all five thousand (or so) Rapa Nui individuals do indeed know each other or at least of each other, and consequently their bond and sense of cohesion as a community with a distinct identity is strong.
Billig’s (1995) notion of banal nationalism is apparent in the presence of Chilean flags strategically placed at key sites like government buildings, the airport (see Figures 10, 14), and private businesses, a subtle but obvious reminder of Chile’s investment of money, resources, and personnel in governing and providing for the island. By simply observing the landscape I was able to garner a sense of the dichotomy - but also the mixing of - Rapa Nui and Chilean identities and nationalistic claims. The island’s volcanic terrain, tropical flora, artwork and handicrafts give the island a distinctly Polynesian feel, but a number of the businesses, government buildings, and all of the license plates are distinctly Chilean. Rapa Nui flags and symbols are seen flying on the grounds of private homes and in some businesses, as well as accompanying protest signs scattered around Hanga Roa (see Figures 5, 9, 11, 13).
The omnipresence of the island’s archaeological heritage has resulted in many Rapa Nui residents saying that “the island is a museum.” Chilean flags are symbolic of the Chilean state’s sovereignty over the island, and consequently are present at government buildings, and many businesses, and taxi cars. The Rapa Nui flag is seen in public places, like in the park (Figure 9), but often the Rapa Nui flag is present at businesses who want to demonstrate that they are owned by a Rapa Nui family, and are found at some people’s personal homes. The Rapa Nui flag contains a reimiro, which is a Polynesian canoe with human faces at each end. The reimiro is symbolic of the Rapa Nui people’s descendance from talented seafarers, as Polynesians are known for their excellent canoe building and navigation skills (conversations with Rapa Nui residents, see it in Figures 5, 9, 11, 13). The Rapa Nui have revived their culture and connected with their heritage but are simultaneously contending with increasing Chilean and international cultural influences (Aguirre & González, 2012). On the other hand, Chile is promoting and encouraging the Rapa Nui cultural renaissance because it appeals to tourists. At the same time Chile is working to discourage the Rapa Nui independence movement in order to maintain political control of the island and its surrounding waters (Delsing, 2009). It is apparent that the cultural heritage tourism industry plays a vital role in both the process of Rapa Nui cultural revival/perpetuation, which can be referred to as “rapanuization” (Andueza, 2000), and the process of increasing Chilean culture and presence on the island, or “chilenization” (Bustos González, 2006).
The concept of the Rapa Nui as a distinctly Polynesian people is an integral part of the self-identification of the community and is often the basis for the vocal minority of Rapa Nui individuals who advocate for independence from Chile. This vocal minority is represented by the Rapa Nui parliament, where there is a sign claiming that Rapa Nui will never acknowledge Chilean sovereignty over the island. Figure 11 shows how that process is expressed in the landscape, with a sign that translates as “Territorial Assembly” and an explanation, geared to outsiders, that the kingdom of Rapa Nui never ceded sovereignty to Chile. The sign references the treaty of 1888, in which Chile annexed Rapa Nui (Gómez 2010). The Rapa Nui identity is clearly important enough for a number of people to actively – and sometimes vehemently – protest against Chile’s governance on the island and against the ability of mainland Chileans to immigrate to the island.
Another example of Rapa Nui’s identities expressed in the cultural landscape is the huge clock outside the entrance to the airport (Figure 12). There are three clock faces aligned vertically, with the top clock showing the time in Santiago, Chile, the middle clock showing the time in Rapa Nui (two hours behind the continent) and the lowest clock showing the time in Tahiti (five hours behind Rapa Nui). This structure does more than just tell time: it is symbolic of the cultural, social, economic, and political links Rapa Nui has to both Latin America and Polynesia. The clock is geographically informative, as the island sits approximately halfway between the coast of Chile and the island of Tahiti, and the island only receives flights from these two places. The three months I spent on Rapa Nui confirmed what I had started to understand from my prior research, that the island is halfway between Chile and Polynesia socially and culturally as well as geographically.
The Rapa Nui and Chilean identities are both influential factors in the conversations island residents have regarding autonomy and/or independence for the island. The Rapa Nui who want outright independence from Chile feel that the Rapa Nui identity must be upheld as the dominant identity of the island’s people. Meanwhile, the current reality of the ever-increasing chilenidad (Real Academia Española 2019) “Chilean-ness” of the island’s residents allows Chile to justify continued sovereignty and management of the island. The push for greater autonomy while still remaining part of the Chilean state is a fitting option for the emerging new Rapa Nui and its identities. This option strikes a balance between allowing the Rapa Nui to make important decisions regarding land and natural resources while allowing Chile to maintain sovereignty.
While the Rapa Nui independence movement garners headlines from time to time, it is the goal of a small but vocal minority of Rapa Nui individuals. That being said, almost every Easter Island resident I interviewed – both Rapa Nui and Chilean – agreed that the island should shift toward becoming more autonomous. They made a point of stressing that autonomy is not the same as independence. A fairly standard consensus is that the island can and should become more autonomous in terms of administration and bureaucracy. In particular, the consensus is that more autonomy is needed in decisions about infrastructure, the environment, and education. Still, most agree that being part of the Chilean state is more beneficial than harmful. Chile provides greatly needed resources such as food, healthcare, and basic infrastructure and education, as well as the flights that connect the island to the outside world. This connection is crucial to the island’s economy, which is heavily dependent on tourism. Some Rapa Nui residents are resentful of the fact that important decisions about the island are made by politicians and bureaucrats thousands of miles away in Santiago and Valparaíso, many of whom have never even been to the island and therefore have very limited understandings of life and the community there. Javier (41), a Rapa Nui man who is very well known both on the island and in Chile for being a successful businessman and media personality representing the Rapa Nui community in Chile and abroad, said this to me:
So the correct word is auto-determination. All that you hear about independence is that also – I’ll tell you – many Rapa Nui don’t know what independence really is. They say it because they hear it and repeat it...but in reality what we’re looking for is to make our own decisions, to be able to choose a government that can say “yes, what is your authorization?...do you want this?” Yes, for us to decide what happens, not some person in Valparaíso that has never come (to the island) or that is in an office and doesn’t know what happens (here)... (August 9, 2018)
This sentiment was shared by Flor, a 48-year-old Chilean woman who has lived on the island most of her life, and other individuals I interviewed and spoke with during casual conversations during my time on the island.
Well, what I believe is that the independence movement is a very small one, that the majority of the people, that isn’t what they want, um...but effectively there are some people, who are led by the (Rapa Nui) Parliament and that are a small group, that...that postulate this. I believe that the strongest movement is for autonomy, and ultimately is to be able to be more autonomous in making decisions here, belonging to Chile (still) because ultimately, we know that it is complicated to be absolutely independent. And I believe that we’re all in agreement to an extent with (the idea) that we need greater autonomy, that is to be able to make decisions here. Although now there is a lot more than before, or rather, before we depended on...well we still depend on the fifth region – Chile is divided into regions, and the island belongs to a region, and all the decisions have to pass through the fifth region (administration in Valparaíso). (August 6, 2018)
Most Rapa Nui residents recognize that life would be much more difficult on the island without Chile contributing a great deal of money and material resources to sustain the community, which could not grow nearly as large as it has in recent decades (for better or worse). Even Rosa (32) who identifies very strongly as Rapa Nui and expressed negative opinions about allowing so many Chileans to live on the island, said she does not agree with the idea of an independent Rapa Nui, but does like the idea of a Rapa Nui with greater administrative autonomy.
Rosa said, “Independence calls for the capacity to...to have everything for ourselves, something we won’t be able to accomplish...(so)... autonomy, yes, but independence no.” (August 8, 2018)
Maria, a 30-year-old Rapa Nui woman, said to me in a casual conversation about tourism and the independence movement “el turismo nos da de comer (tourism provides for us economically), but that doesn’t mean we should become independent, and it doesn’t mean the tourists aren’t overwhelming at times.” Even if they think independence is unrealistic given the island’s material needs and limited resources, most Rapa Nui residents expressed a desire to see local solutions to local problems, with actual residents making the important decisions regarding the island’s laws and resources, rather than politicians thousands of miles away in Santiago and Valparaíso who have never traveled to the island.
Despite the seeming unlikelihood of an independent Rapa Nui, the Rapa Nui Parliament – whom the Chileans and even some Rapa Nui consider to be extremists – have been instrumental in garnering international attention for the historical wrongs committed against the Rapa Nui and the ongoing struggles with the Chilean state over certain land use issues. Indeed, Maria (30), who does not agree with the idea of an independent Rapa Nui, said that if it was not for the “extremists,” making noise, the Rapa Nui would likely not have as much recognition or rights as an indigenous community within the Chilean state:
The extremists fought in order to have our park, to ensure that the money from here, that is produced on the island by the park, doesn’t go to other communities or communes on the continent, because everyone works here to maintain their place, not for me to work for them to send the money somewhere else. (July 8, 2018)
It was in part thanks to the separatists and their protests that governance of the island’s national park changed hands from Chilean management to Rapa Nui management in 2016 (mauhenua.com), the implications of which are not small. The change of management of the park from the Chilean national government to the Ma’u Henua indigenous council (see Figure 13 below) provides Rapa Nui residents with greater control of their own land and resources, an opportunity that too many indigenous communities are still deprived of elsewhere, including on the mainland of Chile.
For better or worse, Rapa Nui has become an integral part of the Chilean state, and the Rapa Nui people have been fairly successful in winning back rights and respect as an indigenous community. Chilean management has allowed for a revival of Rapa Nui culture, alongside the imposition of Chilean culture on the island, with a new culture and identity emerging in the process. Both Chilean and Rapa Nui national identities have left marks in the island’s physical landscape and the two identities mixing is likely to create new landscapes as well. Figure 14 above sums up the situation – indigenous Polynesian/Rapa Nui imagery in the form of a thatched roof and coconut palm tree as part of the airport, which was built by Chile, has the Chilean flag displayed, and an airplane of Chile’s national airline, LATAM, which is the only airline that flies to and from the island. The island will always be Polynesian because of its geographic location, climate, flora, volcanic landscape, and the ways of the Rapa Nui people. However, the island is definitely Chilean too, given that many of the residents are Chileans from the mainland, and overall administration, bureaucracy and logistical management is in the hands of the Chilean government, now since 1888.
It is difficult to say how the tensions between Chileans and Rapa Nui will play out, but there are a lot of potential policy implications. It is apparent that many islanders of both Chilean and Rapa Nui extraction love their island and are stakeholders in the island’s future, and desire greater autonomy while remaining part of the Chilean state. It seems likely though, that as stakeholders in Easter Island’s future, both Chileans and Rapa Nui individuals will continue to build their lives, businesses, and families on this island, continuing to expand and mix Chilean and Rapa Nui cultures. This will undoubtedly leave both Rapa Nui and Chilean imprints in the physical landscape of the island, and a new identity will continue to emerge from the mixing of the two cultures as well.
This research was funded by the Vivian Finch Latin America Travel Scholarship for Research in Geography, and the Tinker Foundation Grant for Preliminary Research in Latin America. The opinions and interpretations expressed are my own, and not those of the organizations that generously help scholars conduct fieldwork in Latin America on a range of topics.
To the brilliant and kind professors and peers who have advised and encouraged me, with special thanks to my MA advisor Dr. Fernando Bosco at San Diego State University, and my PhD advisor Dr. Matthew Taylor at the University of Denver.
To the people on the island of Rapa Nui - Chilean, Rapa Nui and foreigners who treated me kindly while I stayed in their homes and patronized their businesses.
To my friends and family who supported me too. Thank you, Gracias, Maururu to you all!