Chapter Title: Impacts of the War

Book Title: Solomon Islanders in World War II

Book Subtitle: An Indigenous Perspective
Book Author(s): ANNA ANNIE KWAI
Published by: ANU Press

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt20krxw0.9

JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
This content is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives
4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0). To view a copy of this license, visit
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.

ANU Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Solomon
Islanders in World War II

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4
Impacts of the War

The Solomon Islands Campaign was more than a significant milestone

in the history of the British Solomon Islands Protectorate and its
people. Rapid change affected islanders’ outlook and their surrounding
environment during and after the war. These changes set the stage for
the struggle towards Solomon Islands independence from Britain in
1978. Today, many of these changes are still visible in the physical and
human landscapes of the country. This chapter will explore the impacts
and effects of the Pacific War on Solomon Islands and its people.
The first section will deal with the immediate impacts of war, while the
second section  discusses political change, social change and economic
development in the postwar period.

Immediate effects of the war

The arrival of the Pacific War in Solomon Islands had a dramatic
impact on all aspects of indigenous social life. Islanders’ world view and
understanding of racial relationships developed considerably, through
encounters with military troops of both the Allied and Japanese sides.
Perceptions and attitudes towards the British administration took
a new turn during the war as islanders interacted with members of the
United States military forces. For the first time since Britain established
a protectorate over Solomon Islands, individual islanders were able to
interact on a new level with white men: sharing cigarettes, eating together
and performing the same tasks as the white soldiers. This set new standards
for islanders, and at the same time provided both reason and opportunity
75

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

for expressing resentment towards their white colonial masters and the
British administration. An example of such feelings can be found in the
words of scout John Kari of Western District:
it seemed before the war that the Europeans who were around don’t really
like black people around them. They could never sit down and just story,
or eat. They only talked to their own kind. But when the Americans came,
they really went inside the local people; it was the first time for us to see
this. Also, the British wouldn’t come ashore through the water. A man
would carry them. I remember an American saw one of the Solomon
Islanders carrying Mr Horton. He said, ‘what, is he sick or lame? Is he
taking him to the hospital?’ and they didn’t like to see the Americans
give us smokes. We would always hide from the government men to get
smokes, and the Americans would ask what the problem was. Was it
wrong for us to smoke? The government would say we had to work, but
the Americans would turn around and say, ‘the machines do the work,
not the hands’ (Gasa and Kumana 1988: 98–9).

Two significant issues are expressed by Kari. First, there was only limited
social interaction between indigenous people and whites prior to the war.
The relationship that islanders had with the prewar white community of
the British protectorate was a ‘master–boy’ relationship. Islanders always
regarded white government officials, traders and missionaries as ‘masters’
and powerful agents in their societies. Meanwhile, many whites considered
the ‘native’ a primitive savage. Islanders were not seen as racially equal to
‘white men’, and day-to-day social interaction between the parties was
discouraged. The extremes of this racial imbalance can be seen in a 1922
complaint to the High Commissioner for the South West Pacific by the
chairman of Levers Pacific Plantations Ltd, on the alleged mistreatment of
islanders by three Australian overseers who were transported to Fiji to face
trial for the murder of a Malaitan labourer. Joseph Meek, the chairman for
Levers, wrote to the high commissioner in defence of the overseers, stating:
We submit for the consideration of the government that when a white
man is arrested in the Solomon Islands, and when he has to be conveyed
from the Solomon Islands to Fiji that there should be white quarters with
the white man’s accommodation, and that the white race should not have
their dignity lowered by being put into a hold with the ordinary ‘Boys’.
In fact, only by doing this can one preserve the dignity, not merely of
the white man, but of the white Government. It does not seem to have
been practised in this case, and these men seem to have just reason for
complaint (Meek to High Commissioner, 22 June 1922, WPHC 4,
1862/22, Western Pacific Archives).

76

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

Such feelings as expressed by Meek depict the racism in the British

protectorate before the war, and its connections to colonial rule. These
white racial sentiments were not ignored by islanders. Jonathan Fifi‘i,
a houseboy for Sister Cleaver, an Australian nurse in Tulagi before the war,
described his experience of racial segregation in the colonial headquarters:
‘Tulagi was a strange place then … the white people all segregated up
on the hill, with their hotel and their club; and the Chinese down in
Chinatown … we Solomon Islanders were at the very bottom of the heap’
(Fifi‘i 1989: 34). Fifi‘i also recalled his encounter with S.G. Masterman,
the inspector of ‘Native Labour’ for the protectorate, to exemplify the
extent of racism at Tulagi. Fifi‘i, on his way to buy bread, rode past
Masterman on his bicycle. Masterman yelled out to Fifi‘i to stop and get
off his bicycle. In doing so, Masterman lectured Fifi‘i that ‘when you see
a white man, you can’t go past him on your bicycle. You get off and stand
at attention until he goes past … because white people are the rulers here.
You natives are nothing. If you see a white man, you have to give him
proper respect’ (ibid.: 35). The treatment of islanders as an inferior group
did not go unrecognised by the celebrated Anglican missionary, Charles
Fox, who stated that the islanders felt:
very much being treated as inferiors. The colour feeling is real. The test of
colour feelings is whether a man will eat with another or not. That is the
Melanesia test. No Government official or trader will allow Melanesians
to eat with him or even drink a cup of tea with him, for the sake of British
prestige. But that is the Melanesian test (Hilliard 1978: 272).

There were exceptions in the case of some missionaries whose intentions

were to spread Christianity to islanders. For this purpose, missionaries
had a daily social interface with indigenous peoples and their affairs.
However, missionaries’ collaboration with islanders did not erase racial
demarcations. Fifi‘i deduced that ‘the Christianity we were given taught
us to be peaceful and obedient, like well-behaved children — not equal
to white people’ (Fifi‘i 1989: 41). Any Europeans who ventured over
the racial line were accused of ‘going native’. Such was the case of the
Methodist missionary Reverend J.F. Goldie, who was among the first
team of missionaries of the Methodist Mission Society of Australia who
went to Solomon Islands in 1902. Their pioneering effort to Christianise
Solomon Islands was highly successful and islanders thought so highly
of Goldie that he became their voice in liaising with government
administrators, planters and traders, who demanded land at low cost
or sought to alienate it for plantation purposes. Goldie’s position as

77

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

a missionary ensured that islanders’ welfare was prioritised. However, he

was often accused of ‘interfering’ with matters and even of ‘going native’
by having a personal interest in islanders’ affairs (Luxton 1955: 117–18).
Because of the missionaries’ collaborative efforts with indigenous peoples,
it is important to note that when islanders mentioned ‘Europeans’ they
were mainly referring to white planters, traders and some of the British
administrative officers. Solomon Islander academic Tarcisius Kabutaulaka
wrote, ‘although the District Officer was frequently friendly towards
Solomon Islanders, he treated them as inferior because he did not want to
identify himself with them’ (Kabutaulaka 1990: 43). Hence, it is evident
that the social environment in the protectorate during the prewar period
was divided by a racial line of ‘white’ superiority over the inferior ‘black
race’ of which the islanders were a part.
The second point expressed by Kari was that the war provided an avenue
for interracial interaction in marked contrast to indigenous experiences
before 1942. Islanders were able to mingle with people of ‘white’ origin
for the first time and became able to differentiate white people according
to their nationalities. This ability saw a marked bias develop in favour
of American troops over British colonial administrators. The statement
by John Kari that Americans ‘really went inside the local people’ is an
expression of the extent to which indigenous perceptions of interracial
relationships with American troops were shaped by the war. Scout Andrew
Langabaea made a statement similar to Kari’s, recalling ‘the Americans
would say the skin was different, but the life and blood was one kind
… before you always had to say, “yes, sir” and “no, sir” but not with
the Americans. Any man was just “Joe” ’ (Gasa and Kumana 1988: 103).
George Maelalo, who had frontline experience with the fighting forces,
had an even more specific outlook on Allied soldiers according to their
nationalities:
The Joes were a different kind of people when they were in the bush. They
did not care about anything. If they wanted to do something, they went
ahead and did it. There was one thing that I noticed about the American
soldiers. They did not have much respect for their officers. Rarely had
I seen a soldier respond promptly to an officer by saying ‘here, sir’. After
the officer had left, the soldier would say, ‘one of these days I will put
a bullet in your head’. They were not like Australian soldiers. Australian
soldiers thought very highly of their officers. The soldiers obeyed their
officers very much (Maelalo 1988: 185).

78

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

These expressions indicate the superiority of the colonial administration

over islanders before 1942, and islanders’ realisation of opportunities for
new cross-cultural relations emerging from the war. This development
can be seen from the vocabulary of formal addresses to British officers
as compared to American soldiers. The words ‘Sir’ and ‘Master’ were
the only terms used to address men of European heritage before the
war. When the Americans entered the war, ‘Joe’ became the common
address for white American soldiers. As Maelalo observes, the word ‘Sir’
was not accustomed usage for American soldiers. Like other islanders,
Maelalo began to question the genuineness of the prestige claimed by
colonial officers.
Not only did the war reshape islanders’ world views, it also laid a foundation
for political education. The opportunity to interact with white American
soldiers set an educational milestone for indigenous peoples, who began
to challenge colonial dominance over them. This does not suggest that
islanders were unaware of issues of racism in the protectorate prior to
the Solomon Islands Campaign. In fact, expressions of dissatisfaction
had occurred before the war and, as Hugh Laracy has argued, many
islanders’ dislike of the colonial regime was evident well before the war.
Resentment had been demonstrated through conflicts with planters and
district officers. An example was the killing of district officer William Bell
on east Malaita in 1927. His murder occurred as a result of his attempt
to collect head tax and confiscate rifles from islanders (Laracy 1983: 12).
These rifles were either obtained from traders or purchased by those who
had been to Queensland as labourers. Although confiscating rifles from
islanders could be seen as an appropriate measure by the administration
to put an end to tribal conflict throughout the protectorate, it did not
seem right to the islanders who owned the rifles. The possession of a rifle
was a source of power among tribal groups, and confiscating one would
put the tribe at risk of attacks from its enemies. After the murder of Bell,
massive retaliation was carried out by the government, resulting in the
deaths of hundreds of civilian islanders and the destruction of houses,
gardens and villages. In late June 1928, those who were convicted of Bell’s
murder were hanged (ibid.: 8).
This massive reprisal demonstrated the administration’s ability to control
the population, but islander discontent with the British administration
continued to grow. As Laracy argued:

79

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

there is no reason to suppose that Solomon Islanders have ever been less
conscious of their worth than have any other people … the historical
record clearly attests to their abundant readiness to defend both themselves
and that which they considered to be theirs (ibid.: 7; see also Akin 2013).

A sense of admiration became evident among islanders as they saw black

American soldiers enjoying equal opportunities in the battlefield with
white GIs. The observation that black GIs wore the same clothes, slept
under the same tents and had the same rations as white soldiers sparked
inquisitiveness and captivated the imagination of islanders. Jonathan Fifi‘i,
a sergeant of the Solomon Islands Labour Corps and district head chief
of the Maasina Rule, a nationalist sociopolitical movement that emerged
after the war, recalled:
We did the same kind of work as the Americans and the British, but we
weren’t allowed to wear the same kinds of uniforms. We wore lavalavas,
yardage. It was forbidden for us to wear trousers or shirts. We sergeants
were given a piece of khaki that had three stripes painted on it. They
tied strings onto the cloth, and each of us were to tie the cloth onto our
arms. The white officers all wore their stripes sewn onto their shirts, but
all we got were those pieces of khaki. I was ashamed to wear it like that,
so I would just carry it around in my hand (Fifi‘i 1991: 41).

Fifi‘i’s statement demonstrates that Solomon Islanders were not unaware

of the racial allusions of colonial officers. When questioned about
whether Americans gave uniforms to islanders, Gafu, a member of the
labour corps replied, ‘No, we only wore lavalavas [sarongs] because we
were just labourers. The black Americans, however, wore uniforms. It was
our ordinary clothing that made it easy for the Americans to identify
us’ (Ngwadili and Gafu 1988: 209). It might be that islanders perceived
themselves as equals to black GIs but perceived white soldiers as superior.
If so, this observation will have contributed to islanders’ quest to improve
their status relative to their white colonial ‘masters’.
Indigenous people enjoyed the food and friendship shared with generous
American soldiers. David Gegeo stated this gave rise to a ‘mythic schema’
of the abundant wealth and racial equality of Americans (Gegeo 1991: 30).
Islander impressions of United States society, of course, did not correspond
with the racial situation that actually existed in America. Whether islanders
were aware of racial discrimination that existed among American soldiers
was not evident in their oral recollections. What is evident was the equal
treatment they experienced at the hands of both black and white American

80

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

soldiers. Gafu recalled ‘they [Americans] outnumbered us but there was

not a feeling of white versus black among us. We all stay together as if we
were of one race’ (Ngwadili and Gafu 1988: 209–10). However, Arnon
Ngwadili, the caretaker of Resident Commissioner William Marchant,
described how the ‘Black Joes’ would often come to the residence to
inquire about who owned the house or who lived in the house. Ngwadili
stated ‘the white Americans are alright’. He  recalled that sometimes he
was afraid of the coloured Americans because of their physical build. But
realising his responsibility as caretaker, he often refused their attempt to
enter the commissioner’s house (ibid.: 205). To islanders, close association
with white soldiers changed their understandings of the racial relationships
to which they were accustomed under the British administration. Scout
Essau Hiele commented that war left a positive imprint because ‘people’s
minds are open, eyes were open, [and] brains were open, to outside things.
People no longer find it difficult to understand new things’ (WPA 1988:
21).
This transformation of views was not unique to Solomon Islands.
In  neighbouring Papua New Guinea, similar perceptions of prewar
interracial relationships prevailed among indigenous people. Like the
experiences of Solomon Islanders, the war also brought experiences
in contrast to the prewar white master/black servant relationship for
indigenous people in Papua New Guinea. John Waiko, a Papua New
Guinean and historian, stated the wholesale desertion of the white
community in many areas during the early days of the war permanently
damaged white prestige and reputations among indigenous Papua New
Guineans (Waiko 1991: 6). A new perspective emerged among Papua
New Guineans of the Australian soldiers they encountered, a relationship
that again contradicted prewar white master/black servant relationships.
As Peter Ryan, an Australian intelligence officer in Papua New Guinea
during the war, explained:
a different sort of white man was seen for the first time in Australian
soldiers whose humanity, informality, and willingness to labour in the sun
and in the mud were in contrast to the rigid allowances of many of the
pre-war residents (Ryan 1969: 534).

This new attitude towards white men that emerged under war conditions
has had a lasting impact on indigenous outlooks and experiences in Papua
New Guinea and Solomon Islands.

81

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

Impacts of war on village life

The Pacific War resulted in a state of confusion, dislocation of people
and disruption of society throughout Solomon Islands. The arrival of the
war was swift and unexpected by islanders, who lacked any knowledge
of the scale of modern warfare. Many people who lived in coastal areas
immediately relocated further inland when Japan invaded. Although
this evacuation was ordered prior to the landing of Japanese troops on
Tulagi in 1942, not all people evacuated their villages or properties and
camped in the mountains. Hence, when Japanese troops advanced into
Solomon Islands, panic ensued and islanders witnessed massive violence
and destruction on some of their islands. Scout Abel Reka of Western
Province described the impact:
It wasn’t peace. The country of Solomon Islands felt no good. It was as if we
were standing in the fire. We didn’t know what would happen tomorrow.
We didn’t know where was mother, where were the children. Running
around like chickens, looking for a rock to shelter us (WPA 1988: 31).

Reka’s description clearly shows the state of confusion and dislocation

among indigenous people when the war reached their shores. David
Gegeo of Malaita, who has done extensive research on indigenous wartime
experiences, discusses the extent of social dislocation in his own Kwara’ae
region of Malaita. Unlike Guadalcanal and islands of Western District,
Malaita was not a centre of fighting during the campaign. A small unit
of Japanese soldiers had camped at the northern end of the island but
was immediately eliminated (with some taken prisoner) by the Malaitan
scouts of Resident Commissioner Marchant, who had relocated the British
headquarters to Auki shortly before Japanese troops invaded Tulagi. Even
though Malaita did not experience a direct impact, the trauma of war still
echoes among older people of Kwara’ae. Gegeo stated:
people still talk about how women pulled their sleeping children from bed
and fled into the forest with them, and how the men spent the rest of the
night labouring to erect shelters in mosquito-infested swampy areas, using
the dim light from burning dried bamboo and coconut leaves (Gegeo
1991: 30).

Gegeo’s description of local recollections reveals how, for most islanders,

the war was a challenging period. People lived in constant fear and harsh
conditions. The hardship endured was physically and psychologically
more far-reaching than most could ever express.

82

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

Along with dislocation, shortages of food became a struggle for local

inhabitants. Food shortages were experienced mainly during Japanese
invasion and occupation. Islanders were ordered beforehand by district
officers to evacuate and plant new gardens further inland. Those who
ignored the order were subsequently faced with food shortages. When
the American troops landed on Guadalcanal, the British administration
distributed rations to those villages in the greatest need as a result of the
war’s impact. Islanders, however, had to prove that they had planted new
gardens before food could be distributed to them. This was to encourage
people to remake their gardens and to ensure that military rations went
only to islanders directly affected by the war as a temporary relief program.
There was also an initial loss of cash income due to the collapse of trading
activity throughout the protectorate. But in contrast to these early
difficulties, islanders experienced an economic rebound when the United
States entered the war. This boom was due to the economic opportunities
this stage of the war provided for local people and included the facilitation
of small-scale economic activities such as selling of crafts, artefacts and
food to the American soldiers, and a resumption (with a corresponding
increase) of wages gained from labour. Although locals complained about
the low wages paid to them compared to Allied troops, their monthly
wages had increased at least threefold for the average labourer and over
eight times for those with the rank of sergeant (Fifi‘i 1991: 41). Apart from
normal wages, islanders were able to sell handcrafted walking sticks, grass
skirts and other crafts and food to Allied troops. Sir Frederick Osifelo,
chairman of the Post-war Constitutional Committee (responsible for
drafting the constitution of Solomon Islands) wrote in his autobiography
of his experiences as a teenager on Malaita during the war. Osifelo recalled:
The demand by American Marine and Army personnel for such things as
sea-shell, carvings, walking-sticks, grass skirts, combs and so on, resulted
in even people of my age focussing on making or finding something
to sell. I was fourteen years old in 1942/1943 and actively involved in
making walking-sticks, combs and grass skirts. At night we went out to
the reef with torches or lit coconut leaf in search of sea-shells. Sometimes
we sent our stuff to Lunga with relatives working in the Labour Corps
so that they could sell them for us, at other times we sold them ourselves
when the warships visited Auki (Osifelo 1985: 23).

83

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

Figure 16: Nggela people go out to trade with sailors on board the USS
Nicholas anchored in Purvis Bay, 22 August 1943
Source: United States Navy, United States National Archives.

The war facilitated a commercial environment from which even teenagers

like Osifelo benefited. Similar sentiments were expressed by Roy Kimisi,
who estimated he was about 12 years old when the Americans landed on
Choiseul Island. Kimisi recalled: ‘I’m not sure some of those Americans
cared very much about their dollars. Sometimes they’d just buy a grass
skirt and throw it away’ (WPA 1988: 77). Local oral recollections of the

84

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

war indicate that those who engaged in selling such things to soldiers were
mostly juveniles (see Figures  16 and 17). This is perhaps because most
able-bodied men were engaged in the scouting network or the labour
corps. Since men were absent from their villages, women stepped up to
do male chores in their families, while their children found rich rewards
selling crafts to soldiers. These small-scale initiatives enhanced village-
level knowledge of trade practices. They also marked the beginnings of
a quest by islanders for better socioeconomic relations under the British
administration. Shortly after the war ended, the Maasina Rule movement
emerged with the aim of pushing for the recognition of the social welfare
agenda of islanders, increased wages and the revitalisation of local cultural
heritage and autonomy. Although it enjoyed limited success in achieving
its objectives, it marked a significant point in the history of Solomon
Islands by speeding up the decolonisation process, as discussed in the next
section (Akin 2013; see also Keesing 1978).

Figure 17: Lieutenant George Rollinsk, supply officer of 193 Infantry

dickers, with three natives selling canes and grass skirts, New Georgia,
2 December 1943
Source: United States Navy (photo 80-G-56673), United States National Archives.

85

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

Postwar political and economic impacts

World War II in Solomon Islands not only modified the outlooks and
lifestyles of islanders, it also fuelled mounting grievances of islanders
towards the colonial administration. The postwar period saw sociopolitical
initiatives such as the Maasina Rule movement emerging among the local
population. Maasina Rule quickly became an influential sociopolitical
movement that exemplified the impact of the war on political innovation
among indigenous peoples.
As discussed in the previous section, the war shone a spotlight on the
racial disparities of white cultural imperialism over indigenous Solomon
Islanders. Hence, shortly after hostilities subsided, the notion of
Maasina Rule began to take shape. Jonathan Fifi‘i, a founding member
of  Maasina Rule, explained in his recollection of the war that the
movement developed from encounters with American troops who listened
to islanders’ complaints of the injustice experienced under the colonial
regime, and gave advice on what indigenous people should do to express
their frustrations to the British administration (Fifi‘i 1988). Frederick
Osifelo wrote in his biography: ‘I am convinced that the war brought
about the formation of Maasina Ruru [Rule]’ (Osifelo 1985: 23). But
Hugh Laracy argues that the roots of Maasina Rule can be dated to earlier
in the history of the protectorate. The war only intensified what had been
already mounting indigenous frustrations (Laracy 1983: 7). Beginning on
Malaita, Maasina Rule became the first postwar sociopolitical organisation
and expanded geographically to other islands. Although it was not
successful in driving out the colonial regime, it made the administration
painfully aware of the concerns and ambitions of its subjects, and forced
these to be taken into consideration (ibid.: 6).
Maasina Rule, initially known as the ‘Native Council Movement’, was
started in Are’are district of Malaita as early as September 1943 by the
notable big man of the district, Aliki Nono’ohimae, in his village of
Arairau. Nono’ohimae’s vision was to set up a council to work towards the
betterment of indigenous people. His early attempts had little impact due
to his leaving to serve in the labour corps on Guadalcanal in 1944. Later
that year, district headman Hoasihau revived the movement. Enthusiastic
in his leadership, Hoasihau held meetings in Are’are with the aim of
raising money to aid a chief whose responsibility would be to liaise with
Europeans on matters of concern to islanders. By late 1944, Nono’ohimae

86

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

returned to Malaita in time to team up with Hoasihau to promote the

Native Council Movement. His encounter with American troops during
his time at the labour corps camp on Guadalcanal bolstered his belief in
local governance by islanders.
By mid-1945, the Native Council Movement, which now bore the
name ‘Maasina Rule’ or ‘the rule of brotherhood’, gained momentum
throughout Malaita, following a ‘patrol’ led by Nori, another Are’are man
and returned member of the labour corps who shared the movement’s
leadership. The movement continued to gain popularity and, by December
1945, the first order was issued on Malaita forbidding Malaitans to
accept labour recruitment for Europeans. Early the following year, the
making of communal farms and construction of new coastal villages
began. On  26  December 1945, Maasina Rule was formally established
with 5,000 members and nine council members. In 1947, a large number
of people were relocated to the newly built communally owned coastal
villages. By then, the movement had spread to the islands of Ulawa, San
Cristobal (Makira) and Guadalcanal. In late June 1947, Maasina Rule
leaders and 7,000 supporters met at Auki on Malaita with the district
commissioner. One of the explicit demands expressed during the meeting
was for an increase in islanders’ wages to 12 pounds per annum: a demand
originally made in the prewar period and that lingered during the war.
On 31 August 1947, threatened by its popularity among islanders, the
British regime executed ‘Operation De-Louse’ in an effort to put a stop
to the movement. By early 1948, all accused members of Maasina Rule
were tried and imprisoned (Laracy 1983: 17–20). The designated name
for the operation is itself an indication of the colonial mentality and the
administration’s contempt for islanders who had contributed so much to
the Allied victory, and their efforts to voice their concerns and grievances.
The origins of Maasina Rule on Malaita are significant for understanding
the geographical area it covered and its legitimacy among its followers.
Both founders of the movement, Nono’ohimae and Hoasihau, were from
the Are’are district of Malaita and had been members of the Fallowes
movement. This movement was one of a series of attempts to call upon
the British administration to address, or at least listen to, the grievances
of islanders in the 1930s. The Fallowes movement was organised by an
Anglican missionary, Richard Fallowes, from the mid to late 1930s, and
gained momentum particularly on the islands of Isabel and Nggela.
Fallowes observed that the government failed to take heed of the interests
of those it governed, concerning itself only with the interests of the few
87

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

European settlers in the protectorate. His aim was to form a parliament

that would represent islanders in discussing matters of interest to the
government — a concept resembling the Native Council Movement
initiated by Nono’ohimae and Hoasihau (Laracy 1983: 13–14). Fallowes
was later deported, but his legacy left an imprint among many islanders.
Although Nono’ohimae was pagan, five of the nine council members
were teachers of the South Seas Evangelical Mission (now known as the
South Seas Evangelical Church, or SSEC). The SSEC had its first contact
with indigenous labourers in Queensland in 1886 (it was then known
as the Queensland Kanaka Mission). In 1904, the SSEC established its
mission headquarters on Malaita, spreading throughout Malaita and
Makira where Maasina Rule was also widely accepted. The remaining
four members of the council were either pagan or from other Christian
denominations (Laracy 1983: 20). In the western Solomons, where the
people were evangelised by the Methodist Mission Society, Maasina
Rule was only a distant echo and had no influence. On Guadalcanal, the
ideology of Maasina Rule was introduced by the local war hero Sergeant
Major Jacob Vouza, but was short-lived after he was arrested in 1947
alongside other members of the movement (ibid.: 23). Yet again, the
scale of the Maasina Rule movement indicated the widespread demand
by islanders for representation and improvement in their welfare under
the British administration, which might not have been felt, or at least not
have been felt so strongly, without encountering and being encouraged by
Allied troops during the war.

Commercial centralisation
The war also opened new avenues for economic development. The
protectorate benefited immensely from the relocation of its administrative
headquarters from Tulagi to Honiara after 1953. Infrastructure such as
roads, bridges, Quonset huts, the military hospital and airfields became
the foundation for postwar economic reconstruction in the protectorate.
One major infrastructural product of the war was the Solomon Islands
international airport. Henderson Field, as it was originally called, was
initially built by Japanese troops on Guadalcanal shortly after their
invasion of Tulagi (the British protectorate headquarters until February
1942). On 7 August 1942, threatened by the construction of the airfield,
the United States First Marine Division made its historic landing on
Guadalcanal. The airfield was captured on 8 August and was named
88

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

Henderson Field after Major Crofton Henderson, a marine aviator who

was killed at the Battle of Midway (Jersey 2008: xiv). The airfield was
reopened in 1969 as the Solomon Islands international airport, retaining
the name Henderson Airport.1
Besides the historic Henderson Field, roads built by the Allied forces
are still used today, and Quonset huts built for military purposes have
long been used by various government authorities who now own the
properties on which the huts are located. The Public Works Department
used to house a few offices in these historic huts, but in 2014 all the
huts were demolished to make way for new developments. This military
infrastructure, now decaying, formed the basis for economic development
and reconstruction of economic activities in the former protectorate.
Honiara became the centre of all major economic activities in the postwar
period. The British administration did not anticipate the long-term
consequences of centralising development on Guadalcanal. Since the war
had already laid an infrastructural foundation to rebuild the protectorate,
it was considered logical to use what was already in place. However,
the centralisation of economic activities on Guadalcanal began to pose
another difficulty: a surge of rural–urban migration and the appearance
of related social problems. The British administration at the time could
not foresee the impact these would have on islanders over 50  years,
blinkered perhaps by the convenience of infrastructure established
during the war. Consequently, in 1998, 20 years after Solomon Islands
gained independence from Britain, the country experienced an ethnic
confrontation between people of Malaita and Guadalcanal. Among
other causes of the conflict was the frustration of Guadalcanal people
over the growing numbers of Malaitans migrating to their island as

1 In 2000, the Japanese Government funded the renovation of Henderson Airport, and Japanese
consultants suggested a change to the historic Allied name of the airport. Perhaps in an attempt to
show appreciation for the continual support of the Japanese Government in maintaining the airport,
the Solomon Islands Government made a public announcement that it would rename Henderson
Airport to ‘Honiara International Airport’. The announcement resulted in an online petition opposing
the change with over 8,000  signatures, as well as official exchanges between the Solomon Islands
Government and United States diplomats. In 2003, when the terminal renovations were completed,
Prime Minister Allan Kemakeza announced that the airport will be officially known as ‘Honiara
International Airport — Henderson Field’ (ABC Radio Australia 2012; see also usmarineraiders.org/
about-the-raiders/history/combat-operations/guadalcanal/thank-you-note-from-solomon-island-
prime-minister/).

89

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 Solomon Islanders in World War II

a result of the ‘pull’ factors of economic development and urbanisation.

John Naitoro (2000: 7) argued that the historical cause of the unrest is
rooted in development centralisation on Guadalcanal.
The legacy of the war not only posed long-term hurdles to the political and
economic development of Solomon Islands, it also provided an avenue
for long-term economic benefits from remnants of military artillery
and other wreckage, at both the national and local levels. The islands of
Guadalcanal, Nggela and Western Province, where large-scale military
confrontations took place, have become giant museums for international
visitors. Left in situ in the landscape rather than gathered into a modern
museum collection, the physical fragments of war have become a source
of income to customary landowners, who charge small fees to visitors of
battle sites within their jurisdiction. Battlefield tours to historical sites
such as Bloody Ridge, Henderson Field and Beach Red are conducted for
international visitors and descendants of Allied soldiers who participated
in the war.2 On 7 August of each year, United States Marines and other
veterans of the war and their descendants return to Solomon Islands to
celebrate the initial landing of the First Marine Division on Guadalcanal
and conduct commemoration ceremonies for fallen comrades. Although
international visitors to Solomon Islands are few compared to sites such as
the Kokoda Trail in Papua New Guinea, the economic platform the war
has established is still considerable.

Conclusion
The war had immediate and long-lasting influences on indigenous
islanders’  social world views and on economic and political events at
both local and national levels. Islanders began to perceive their social
environment differently and glimpsed the world beyond their borders.
As Allied troops entered the war, the ‘master–boy’ relationship was shaken
and the opportunity to interact with white men (American GIs) emerged.
This provided a lesson enabling islanders to become more critically
aware of and contest their supposed racial inferiority so entrenched

2 John Innes, a historian of the Guadalcanal Battlefield, conducts battlefield tours annually on
Guadalcanal and Tulagi. In 2011, in collaboration with the Solomon Scouts and Coastwatchers Trust,
his field tour on Guadalcanal was documented by the Solomon Islands Broadcasting Corporation
(Audio) and Trad Records (a local company in Honiara), who produced a DVD of the tour (Innes
2013). All the recordings are in the author’s possession but can also be purchased from the Solomon
Scouts and Coastwatchers Trust.

90

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 4. Impacts of the War

by white ‘masters’ in the prewar protectorate. Although islanders had

expressed their grievances prior to the war, their consciousness of the
injustice of subjection to authority was heightened when a sudden shift
of interracial interaction occurred. Having become convinced and more
confident of their rights to better conditions, islanders openly criticised
the British regime in the postwar period. One method of protesting
their dissatisfaction with the colonial administration was through the
formation of the Maasina Rule movement, which was eventually broken
up by the British colonial authorities in 1947. However, its formation
ensured that islanders’ grievances were outlined and their voices heard.
Beyond these social and political impacts, the war also provided economic
opportunities from which Solomon Islands still benefits. Despite creating
unforeseen social tension from rural–urban migration, the country
benefited from wartime military infrastructure, and the physical remnants
of the war have provided long-term economic gains to local peoples as
well as contributing to the national economy of the country. They have
also contributed costs, and it is to these I turn in the chapter that follows.

91

This content downloaded from

164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 This content downloaded from
164.52.199.23 on Tue, 23 May 2023 16:31:44 +00:00
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms