“Chief of War” aims for a new level of authenticity in its depiction of Hawaii’s unification. A Native Hawaiian scholar explains why that’s important but complex for a Hollywood production.
Most people associate Hawaii with relaxing on the beach, but “Chief of War,” a new show on Apple TV+, sheds light on how complex and bloody the islands’ history is.
“Chief of War” depicts one of the most pivotal moments in Hawaiian history, when Kamehameha went to war with other island leaders to unify the islands under his rule and in anticipation of incoming colonial forces. Specifically, the show centers on Ka’iana (Momoa), one of Kamehameha’s right-hand men and a complicated figure because of his ultimate betrayal of the future Hawaiian king.
Pitched as a war story, the warring factions, betrayal and bloodshed in “Chief of War” wouldn’t seem out of place in “Game of Thrones.” But for all its spectacle and drama, what is the real story behind “Chief of War”?
Natalee Kēhaulani Bauer, an assistant teaching professor of race, gender and sexuality studies at Northeastern University in Oakland and a Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian) scholar, says it’s a story most Hawaiians are deeply familiar with but one the general public is largely unaware of.
“The schools are named after him, the highways are named after him: He’s King Kamehameha,” Bauer says.
In the late 18th century, when Kamehameha launched his conquest of the Hawaiian islands, each of the main islands was its own kingdom with its own hierarchy and leaders. Laying claim to a prophecy that he was a grand unifier, Kamehameha set out in 1783 to do what no other Hawaiian had done: unify the islands under one ruler. Lasting from 1783 to 1795, Kamehameha’s war was ultimately a long, brutal conquest mired in competing factions, shifting alliances, the import of a prophecy and, ultimately, betrayal.
It was both a statement of his own power but also a strategic move, given the growing presence of Europeans and Americans on the islands.
“The strategy really was, being aware of the global stage, unification seemed necessary for survival,” Bauer says.
Given Kamehameha’s central role during this period, Bauer notes that it’s an interesting choice to place Ka’iana as the protagonist of “Chief of War.” He was one of Kamehameha’s chief allies but was the man behind the man that came with his own interesting story.
“Early on, [Kaʻiana] is Kamehameha’s right-hand man,” Bauer says. “Because he was one of the first royalty to travel the globe, he had more experience with Western technologies of war, so this is around the time that Hawaii gets access to things like more modern weaponry.”
After sailing to China and the Philippines aboard Western ships, Ka’iana returned to Hawaii and initially helped the conquering Kamehameha secure modern Western firearms. Kamehameha’s army, trained in the use of these weapons by British sailor John Young, swelled to 12,000 men by 1795, making it the largest army in the history of Hawaii up to that point.
Ka’iana would remain central to Kamehameha’s campaign until the conquest of O’ahu in 1795 when he betrayed the future king and defected to side with O’ahu’s Kalanikūpule. He ultimately died in the Battle of Nu’uanu, one of the final battles in Kamehameha’s conquest of the islands.
In Hawaii, Ka’iana is largely known for his betrayal, Bauer says, but the reality is much more complex.
“It was being excluded from [Kamehameha’s] war council but then a fear that came from that [that led to his betrayal],” Bauer says. “‘What does this mean? Have I fallen out of favor? Is my life in danger?’ It wasn’t quite a Judas-like betrayal. … It’s more like self-preservation.
“He wasn’t just a minor character in his own mind,” she adds. “He really had political ambitions. He has noble blood, he is the elite, he is part of royalty. He wanted to be more, so being left out of that council and that planning also influenced him from that perspective.”
The work the production team did on camera and behind the scenes, between Hawaiian actors, historians, cultural practitioners and Ōlelo Hawai’i language coaches, gives Bauer hope that all this personal and historical complexity will make its way into “Chief of War.” Although “Chief of War” also needs to be a piece of entertainment, with all the spectacle that entails, Bauer says this level of cultural sensitivity and attention to detail has not been present in past on-screen depictions of Hawaii.
Early depictions of Hawaii were mostly designed to sell it as a tourist attraction, Bauer says, but even more recent depictions have been held back by Hollywood whitewashing Hawaiians. Films like “Lilo & Stitch” and “Moana” have made strides toward better representation, but “Chief of War,” with its cast, budget and full support from Apple, is something else entirely.
“In a lot of regards, this is a continued attempt to reclaim the films and stories and the ways that Hawaii is portrayed,” Bauer says.
Getting this history in front of people who have never heard the name Ka’iana, which Bauer admits is most of the public, is valuable. However, for Bauer, “Chief of War” means so much more to Native Hawaiians, who have likely never seen themselves represented on screen in this way.
“I really am excited for kids in Hawaii and even elders in Hawaii to see this and go, ‘Oh my god, this is our history on the screen. This is a major production. This is a major actor,’” Bauer says. “That’s the more important part of it.”