Timing is everything — in the decisions faced in life and in the mundane matter of leases. For the Makua Military Reservation (MMR), the time has come again to renew discussions on returning the Army-
leased acreage back to the state of Hawaii. The proposal comes as civilian sentiment has soured recently against the military amid the Red Hill fuel-water contamination crisis, and as significant long-term leases for troop training grounds are coming due. It’s a critical crossroads of circumstances that could well move the conversation in favor of Native Hawaiian interests.
On Thursday, Hawaii’s U.S. Rep. Kaiali‘i Kahele introduced the Leandra Wai Act, proposed federal legislation to remediate, restore and return about 780 acres of Makua Valley to the state for cultural uses and environmental purposes, possibly even residential.
After 65 years, the military’s leases for swaths of state-owned lands are set to expire in 2029. The Makua lands are part of some 6,300 Oahu acres the Army wants to keep using: portions of Makua Valley and the Kahuku Training Area, plus all of the Kawailoa-Poamoho Training Area. On the Big Island, at least 84,000 acres of the Pohakuloa Training Area also face lease expiration in seven years. The process is now underway for a draft environmental impact statement on a range of lease options, from extension to nonrenewal.
This once-in-a-lifetime rewrite applies pressure in favor of the Leandra Wai proposal (named after a former president of Malama Makua), as do other recent events. After four stunning months of the Red Hill contaminated water debacle, the military’s standing and credibility have taken a beating. While national security has been and continues to be justification for keeping the Armed Forces in Hawaii, the military’s mishandling of the Red Hill crisis — which put Oahu’s civilian water supply at risk — has left many people questioning the high cost of the military status quo.
Further, the Red Hill episode comes on the heels of other high-profile activism in recent years — against wind farms in Kahuku and a recreational park in Waimanalo, and most notably, the protests that have halted so far the proposed Thirty Meter Telescope atop Mauna Kea.
Talk of returning the ordnance- and fire-scarred Makua Valley to the state is not new. Periodic calls have been made well before the turn of the century, when military bombings ignited indigenous and environmental passions — most prominently, the demonstrations of 1976-1990 to stop bombing exercises on Kahoolawe, also known then as “The Target Island.”
Such activism also stoked protests against military ordnance training at culturally rich Makua Valley. Thanks to lawsuits filed by Earthjustice on behalf of Malama Makua, live-fire training at MMR stopped by June 2004. The Army today continues training at Makua with unmanned aerial vehicle (drone) practice, troop maneuvers, convoys and helicopter attack simulations.
All that would cease if the Leandra Wai Act passes. The proposal to demilitarize Makua Valley would, among other things:
>> Direct the Department of Defense, working with the state, to provide a cost estimate and cleanup schedule for remediation and restoration of MMR.
>> Direct the Army to enter into a memorandum of understanding with the state to establish a Makua Valley environmental restoration trust fund, and to consult with Native Hawaiian groups for the removal of unexploded ordnance and other contaminants at MMR.
The Makua Military Reservation, the proposal notes, contains more than 100 sites eligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places, including Hawaiian temples, shrines and petroglyphs.
For many decades, the military has evoked national security as justification for its large presence here — and indeed, military readiness in globally fraught times is an imperative. But times have changed over 60 years — as much in military modernization and warfare strategy, as they have in obligations to host lands and people. Both the military lessee and the state lessor must live up to their responsibilities in stewarding the land.
After decades of environmental degradation, it is time for this conversation to reassess Makua’s value and use — prime time.
