Online you can still find the video of John Taukäve standing up at a meeting of the UN’s International Maritime Organisation (IMO) to raise a challenge – a chant of his ancestors from the Pacific island of Rotuma, an island about 465 kilometres north of Fiji.

John Taukäve: ‘It was during Marine Environment Protection Committee at the IMO. I wanted to make sure the voices of the Pacific Islands were heard, to claim our space and express our frustration. The IMO is known to have hierarchical and colonial processes, and it was repeatedly sidelining our contributions – along with those of other relatively Small Island Developing states and Least Developed Countries. The climate crisis has meanwhile already become a severe threat to our islands, with rising sea levels, increasing numbers of cyclones that wipe entire houses off the map, damage to coral reefs, and traditional fishing practices being completely disrupted by the warming of the ocean.’

How did you, as an artist, find yourself in that position?

‘Since the age of 15 I’ve been part of Rako Pasefika, a performing arts group of Rotuman dancers, storytellers and musicians. I performed with them for about 15 years in Fiji and elsewhere, at hotels and conference centres, at nightclubs, weddings and festivals – and even at the COPs [UN Climate Change conferences]. But in 2018 I reached a turning point. I found myself questioning whether I was meant to be an artist or just an entertainer. How honest was it, really, to represent the Rotuman people, when I knew barely nothing about our history and culture? I wanted to connect with my roots, to deepen my knowledge. I was selected into a fellowship from Nia Tero, an organisation that focussed on promoting global Indigenous voices and being inspired from that experience, enabled me to do a master’s degree in Hawaii. For my research, I was inspired by the Armea bird, a red-and-black honey eater, endemic to Rotuma, as a symbol for the movement I was creating – I was going back to the source.

I made a three-day ocean voyage to Rotuma – if you don’t fly, that’s how long it takes to get there from Fiji. I spoke with the Elders there and listened to storytellers. Rotuma has a rich and highly performative oral tradition. The stories that are told and passed down with their cultural values, wisdoms, and life lessons from generation to generation. This phenomenon, which I named storyliving, became the guiding methodology for my research.’

What is storyliving?

‘In Oceania, we live our stories. I learned from the Elders that, when telling a story, the knowledge you convey should be treated like a living entity – you have to feel it in your body, experience it. It makes the knowledge travel further, penetrate the body of the listener, and do its work there. While on Rotuma, I listened to the stories about the Armea, and I made these stories my own. Transforming the stories into artistic work meant I was able to live them. When I got back to Hawaii, I graduated with an MA written thesis and an intimately shared performance about the Armea that incorporated dance, poetry, spoken word, and music.’

Did your performance for the IMO emerge from that?

‘That was the next step indeed, and it is directly connected with my PhD research here in Amsterdam. I wanted to explore how I could apply artistic research in the field of diplomacy – to see how I could use storyliving to impact on the world of international-level negotiations. I was a complete stranger to this world at first. But I wanted to amplify the voices of my peoples. That’s how the plan came about for my Ki at the IMO’s Marine Environmental Protection Committee (MEPC).

The climate is high on the IMO agenda. CO₂ emissions from shipping are ‘about’ three per cent of the global total of emissions, but that’s still a lot. With a decarbonized transition in shipping, they have to be reduced to zero by or around 2050. The IMO is committed to a just and equitable transition. We need to be extremely vigilant about that. The changing climate is currently causing the biggest problems for the smallest polluters, like the Fiji Islands. It’s disproportionately and negatively impacted. We’re insisting that poorer countries need to be included in the process of making shipping sustainable. We cannot allow a future in which wealthy countries continue to dump their old, polluting ships on developing nations while sailing sustainably themselves. Alongside the Fiji Islands, many African and Caribbean countries are struggling to be heard in the fight for a just and equitable transition – and they’re often frustrated. That’s why we built and nurtured relationships with them mainly through our outreach with Storyliving ceremonial practices like Talanoa.’

What is that, a Talanoa?

‘I’ll explain. So first I need to tell you that in my research I distinguish three methods of storyliving: storyliving performance, storyliving practice, and ceremonial storyliving. How can we use these three methods to make our voice and presence more powerful in places like the IMO? The Talanoa that I organized falls under ceremonial storyliving.

Talanoa is a traditional word for an inclusive and transparent dialogue that reflects the values of Oceania. I prepared a kava drink ceremony through which delegates participated in the Kava drinking facilitated by talanoa. Kava is the root of the Piper methysticum plant that is pounded into a powder and mixed with water, to be ceremonially shared with participants. Sitting on a woven mat, we formed a circle for an open dialogue which was inclusive of everyone participating. The kava was passed from hand to hand and we shared Talanoa on many issues from shipping, to oceans, climate change and even checking on everyone’s wellbeing. The Talanoa brings back a sense of humanity for delegates going into negotiations. Now, every time the MEPC convenes, we share kava and participate in Talanoa.

My PhD research is, on the one hand, about how I can further develop my storyliving strategy within the IMO. On the other hand, it’s about making the Pacific’s work within the IMO known to the world – how we fight for sustainable shipping and the health of the oceans. It’s important that people know about this, whether they’re in the Pacific or in the diaspora. I often visit conferences and give lectures. I recently led a kava ceremony accompanied by Talanoa with Masters students at the University of Amsterdam which was impactful for the students to experience alternative ways of learning as our ancestors have in our region.’

Could you tell me something about what the ocean means to you?

‘For me, the ocean is a place of reflection. A large part of my artistic research has come from the ocean. Our knowledge is like the ocean, always flowing. It moves among the people, and we are inspired by it.

When I’m at the ocean, I become aware of how everything is connected to everything else. Early Western and scientific works about the Pacific describe our islands as small, isolated, vulnerable, dependent, separated from each other, and far removed from everyone else. That’s exactly how Pacific Islanders began to think of themselves. Founding scholar for Pacific Islands Studies, Epeli Hau’ofa (1939–2009) encouraged us to decolonise our thinking, saying: The ocean is vast and unique; it brings all the islands together. That we must rethink our countries as large ocean states. See the ocean as a highway that our ancestors used freely for thousands of years. See the ocean as a place of abundance rather than extraction and let that influence how we see ourselves. 

Holomui ki mu’a: A Tongan philosophy on looking back into the future: This is the inspiration reflected behind the designing of the Juren Ae for the Republic of the Marshall Islands, a cargo ship that is 80 per cent carbon efficient and runs mainly through wind powered sails. It embodies the Pacific’s commitment to CO₂ reduction at the regional level. We have returned to the wind that, for thousands of years, carried our ancestors on their voyages. This has set a precedent that technology like this, being inspired by an abundantly available resource like the wind that our ancestors used for millenia can and will enable our countries to move forward into a bright future and not be left behind. 

 Text and interview: Hester van Hasselt