A century and a half of foreign occupation

The Spanish Wall was erected in 1887, during the time when Spain claimed ownership of the island. Back then it was a wall to protect the town from invaders. Today it is the right field wall of Kolonia’s main ball field.

Pohnpei (and much of Micronesia’s) history is a story of foreign rule. The Spanish claimed the island of Pohnpei in the 1850s and sold it to the Germans in 1899. The Germans ruled until 1914 when the Japanese forcefully took the island. When Japan lost WWII, it lost Micronesia.

Neither the Germans nor the Japanese would be categorized as kind rulers. Forced labor was a way of life under both and I’ve heard that starvation was common during the Japanese rule.

At the end of World War II, the area was put under the control of the U.N. which passed it along to the U.S. Under U.S. rule, the area was treated as a trust territory. The islands of Kosrae, Pohnpei, Chuuk, and Yap formed a country, the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM), and a compact of free association was signed with the U.S. in 1982.

True independence still has not been gained. Though a country in name, with its own passports and membership in the U.N., the FSM is as dependent on the U.S. as a baby is upon its mother for food. Roughly 70% of the government’s budget comes from U.S. aid.

The history of Micronesia has given me reason to contemplate how history shapes us. Micronesia’s history of foreign occupation and domination explains a lot about the Micronesian personality. As a people, they seem very accepting of whatever life throws at them – their typical reaction lies somewhere between complacency and apathy.

I’m told the government workers haven’t gotten a raise since the 1990s. In France they would have gone on strike. Here they just shrug their shoulders and go about their business.

In Chuuk the main road is in such a state of disrepair that it is hard to believe it has never been bombed. The electricity goes out nightly. In most democratic countries, protests would have turned violent and the leaders forced to resign. The Chuukese just shrug their shoulders, laugh, and go about their business.

Micronesia’s history is a different from the U.S’s as night is different from day.
When I close my eyes and think of American history as it was taught to me as a child, I see the story of a people blessed with righteous self-determination, moral superiority, and action.

As a young schoolboy, I pledged allegiance each school morning and spent at least an hour a day studying this history. The books taught us a lot. We learned more than just the names of generals and the dates of battles. In a sense, the history taught us how to approach life.

We were taught that ‘taxation without representation is tyranny’ and the proper thing to do is revolt. In 1812 we whipped the British again when they dared to cross the Atlantic. As a Yankee boy, I learned, with pride, of the sacrifice made by Northern soldiers to free the slaves and of their success in doing so (Textile taxes and states’ rights may have gotten a brief mention but those issues certainly couldn’t capture the imagination of a grade school boy – at least not in the North.).

Turn the page, skip to the next century, and Americans are crossing the ocean to bring peace to a continent at war. Turn the page and a picture of American soldiers being cheered as they entered Paris stares back at you. We entered World War II to make the world safe for democracy and we defeated our enemies. America’s battle for freedom is never over and so my grade school days ended with America in a cold war, holding off an evil empire that would happily nuke us all to hell if we gave them the chance.

I’ve been thinking about my American history and how it has influenced the way I look at life. From the Pilgrims to the Pioneers, from the wagon trains to the world wars, I was brought up to view life is a series of challenges and obstacles that must be faced and overcome - one at a time with conviction and action.

American history has molded me and is so ingrained in me that I often fail to consider that my approach to life may be a learned behavior and not a natural instinct common to all people. As a result, at times I struggle with the patient, accepting attitude of the Micronesians.

When my dear Wenonoa reads this, she will likely think of Pedagogy of the Oppressed. It is a book that influenced and impressed her. She wanted me to read but it never made the journey from the bookshelf to my hand. As is often the case, I should have listened to her. Though I understand on a basic level how a country’s history shapes the worldview of its people, perhaps on a deeper level I would understand Micronesia.

Though at times I am critical of the Micronesians tendency to accept everything from their diabetes to the country’s dependence on the U.S., there are also many positive things to say about their cultural tendencies. These, however, are the ponderings for another night.