
Lucy Tucker for Amnesty Sciences Po Menton
March
French Polynesia: pristine beaches; international diving playground; tūrangawaewae to indigenous Polynesian communities;
nuclear wasteland.
Not that the last one is advertised on tourist brochures.
743 miles from Tahiti lies the Mururoa Atoll, a place where white sand beaches, palm trees, and ocean air are permeated with radioactive strontium-90, cesium-137 and plutonium.
Between 1966 and 1996, France conducted 193 nuclear tests in Moruroa and the Fangataufa atolls in French Polynesia. These tests, often conducted in secret and without the consent of local populations, had devastating consequences for the environment and public health. The nuclear explosions released massive amounts of radiation, contaminating land, water and air. As a result, many Polynesians suffered from increased rates of cancer, birth defects, and other radiation-related illnesses. The French government long denied the health and environmental risks associated with the tests, dismissing concerns raised by indigenous leaders and activists. However, in recent years, declassified documents have confirmed that the French state knowingly exposed local populations to dangerous radiation levels. The French government has since offered limited compensation through the Morin Law, but many victims struggle through a process that is slow, bureaucratic and inefficient. As contaminated soil and water persist, many displaced communities are still prevented from returning to their ancestral lands.
Militarisation of the Pacific is not, however, simply a scrawled annotation on one page of a dusty Cold War textbook. As geopolitical tensions rise in the Pacific, the region’s Indigenous communities find themselves at the centre of a growing human rights crisis. The expansion of military bases and security agreements by the United States, China, and Australia is displacing indigenous populations, eroding land rights and threatening the environment. While discussions on Pacific security often focus on great power competition, the voices of Pacific Islanders—particularly those affected by militarization—are often sidelined.
Monoaeka Flores is indigenous to the territory of Guam, part of generations of family members ranching land on the U.S. territory. The island is the site of several major U.S. naval and air bases, with the U.S. Government owning more land than Guam’s local government after its seizure of the territory post-WWII. She is a member of the group “Pritehi Litekyan: Save Ritidian”, which consists of activists from the Chamoru community—the people who have called Guam home for 3500 years. Next to Monoaeka’s family land is the site where the US proposes to burn or detonate up to 3500 pounds of hazardous waste and leftover munitions each year—a plan which Pritehi Litekyan is taking the US military to court over.
It's a smart idea—if you’re the US government. Get rid of all your pesky hazardous material on an irrelevant island 6,607 miles away from the land of the free. Burn it up, blow it up, it’s all the same. Unfortunately for everyone else, the cost-benefit analysis is slightly less clear-cut.
The displacement of indigenous communities from their ancestral lands is one of the most pressing consequences of militarization in the Pacific. In Hawaii and Northern Australia, governments have expanded military facilities without adequate consultation with local populations. The constructions of Marine Corps Base Camp Blaz in Guam and Lombrum Naval Base in Papua New Guinea are just more examples of how land is repurposed for military use, often at the expense of Indigenous landowners. Local activists argue that these projects undermine their sovereignty, leaving them with little say over the fate of their land.
The expansion of military activities in the Pacific has also resulted in significant environmental damage. One of the most alarming incidents was the Red Hill fuel spill (2021-2022) in Hawaii, where thousands of gallons of jet fuel contaminated local drinking water, leading to severe health consequences for Native Hawaiian families. Similarly, large-scale military exercises in Pōhakuloa Training Area and Makua Valley caused lasting environmental damage, affecting biodiversity and sacred sites. As history has shown with nuclear testing and fuel spills, military activities in the Pacific often leave long-lasting scars on the environment.
If military expansion continues unchecked, rising pollution, ecosystem degradation and further contamination of water sources are likely outcomes. It is crucial for the global community to recognize the long-term implications of Pacific militarization. The voices of Indigenous peoples must be amplified in international discussions on security and development, ensuring that they have the power to shape policies that affect their lands and futures.
Australia, for its part, has expanded military training programs and partnerships with Pacific nations, using indigenous lands for security purposes. In Northern Australia, Aboriginal landowners have raised concerns over the government’s prioritization of military interests over indigenous sovereignty. Meanwhile, Australia’s involvement in Papua New Guinea and Vanuatu reflects its broader efforts to counter China’s influence, often without considering the social and environmental consequences for local populations.
The continued militarization of the Pacific carries significant risks, not only for Indigenous communities but for the stability of the region as a whole. As tensions rise between global powers, the Pacific could become a battleground for geopolitical conflicts, increasing the likelihood of military confrontations. Nations such as the United States, China, and Australia are increasing heavy investments in military infrastructure, which raises concerns that Pacific nations will be pressured into strategic alliances that do not serve their interests. Furthermore, as foreign powers expand their military presence, indigenous sovereignty is likely to be further undermined. The historical pattern of land dispossession, environmental destruction, and disregard for Indigenous rights suggests that future expansions will exacerbate existing injustices. The construction of new bases, the deployment of additional troops and increased military exercises could all lead to further displacement of Indigenous peoples and irreparable harm to their cultures and traditions.
While the Pacific has become a hotspot for global military competition, its indigenous populations continue to suffer the consequences. If regional and global actors truly respect the Pacific Islands, they must prioritize Indigenous voices and rights over military ambitions. They should be empowered to determine their own security and development paths, free from external coercion. International institutions, human rights organisations and climate activists must work together to highlight the injustices caused by militarization and push for a demilitarised, sovereign and environmentally protected Pacific. Is it not finally the time to stop forcing indigenous communities to choose between foreign powers and instead respect their autonomy to decide their own futures?
Photo source: Australian Institute of International Affairs