Dear Editor,
Kahlil Gibran once wrote, “History does not repeat itself except in the minds of those who do not know history.” El Hajj Malik Shabazz, sharpened this further: “History is a people’s memory, and without memory man is demoted to the lower animals.” These words remind us why history matters, not as abstract study, but as the compass of our existence. For Palau, Micronesia, and Oceania, history is not simply in textbooks or archives. It lives in our stories, our land, and the very bones of our islands. To forget it is to lose our soul.
The Palauan Way of Knowing: Before ships and missionaries, Palau already had a complete and functional universe. Stories told us our islands were formed from the body of a giant, protected by gods who gave us knowledge of farming, family, childbirth, and politics. Education was not confined to classrooms; it was life itself. Elders taught respect, responsibility, compassion, and the skills to sustain a family. Knowledge was distributed with care: some for everyone, others reserved for certain families like, canoe building, medicine, philosophy, and governance.
Our society balanced power. Men held public authority, but women exercised private power, especially over land and titles. As Deverne Smith described, this was not conflict but complementarity. Men and women needed each other, and the village functioned as a unit of survival. Cheldebechel trained youth in fishing, hunting, taro cultivation, carpentry, and childrearing. These were not just vocational skills, but lessons in loyalty, service, generosity, and leadership. Traditional education in Palau was holistic: to learn was to live responsibly in community.
Colonization and Nuclear Colonialism: This universe began to fracture with foreign contact. Captain Wilson’s shipwreck in 1783 marked a new era, as Palau entered the orbit of Western powers. What followed across Micronesia and the Oceania was not “civilization” but subjugation. Europeans and Americans pursued wealth, resources, and strategic dominance, often at the cost of Indigenous lives and dignity. The story of nuclear testing in the Marshall Islands and French Polynesia reveals the cruelty of empire. Islands were vaporized, peoples irradiated, cultures condemned to exile. U.S. officials casually dismissed Pacific lives, Henry Kissinger’s words, “There are only 90,000 people out there. Who gives a damn?” still echo as an indictment of colonial disregard. Palau was spared direct testing but not spared “nuclear colonialism.” Our attempt to defend ourselves through the world’s first nuclear-free constitution (1979) met fierce U.S. opposition. For fifteen years, Palauans fought to uphold our people’s will against the pressure of a superpower. Assassinations, internal division, and eventual compromise followed, until the Compact of Free Association in 1994 forced us into dependency while eroding our nuclear-free principle.
The Consequences of Forgetting: Colonialism’s greatest victory is not in battles won but in minds conquered. Too often, we adopt the mentality of dependency, waiting for aid, mimicking foreign models, or assuming our traditions are obsolete. Our educational system, once rooted in clan, family, and village, has been reshaped into a foreign tool designed not to empower, but to discipline. Japan’s system sought obedience. America’s system sought Americanization. In both cases, critical thought and independence were not priorities. Today, we are left with the residue: a schooling system that too often produces followers instead of leaders. The cost is visible. Parents outsource responsibility for raising children to the state. Pride in self-sufficiency erodes into a welfare mentality. We have become consumers, not producers. In our own land, we risk becoming strangers.
A Path Forward: But history also gives us tools to resist. Roman Tmetuchl, visionary of Palau’s independence, reminded us that education, pride, and hard work are the foundations of true freedom. Our ancestors sustained themselves for millennia without imported systems or resources. Their wisdom: respect, duty, generosity, and self-reliance are not obsolete. It is the blueprint for survival in the 21st century. As Joel Barker wrote, “Vision without action is just a dream. Action without vision is wasted energy. Vision with action can change the world.” Palau needs vision rooted in Klechibelau—our Palauan way of being. We must educate not just to “catch up” to the outside world, but to reclaim our own. We must plan not only for economic development, but for independence of thought and resilience of community.
The lesson is simple: we cannot be spectators in history, waiting for others to define our future. We must be active, rooted, and visionary. Our ancestors left us a map will we follow it, or will we surrender it for someone else’s path?
Your Humble Servant
Al Kahalic