Institute for Climate and Peace
The Pacific’s tradition of wayfinding has long connected island communities through an intimate knowledge of the sea, sky, winds, and stars—an ancestral science and art that enabled navigators to traverse vast ocean distances with precision and confidence. More than a means of travel, wayfinding embodies a profound relationship with the natural world, where wisdom is passed down through generations, teaching resilience, adaptability, and trust in collective knowledge. Today, this tradition remains a guiding light in the midst of turbulent waters, reminding us that even when the horizon is unclear, we can navigate by what we know to be true—our connection to the land, the sea, and each other.
For many communities impacted by shifting political tides and policies, the next four years appear stormy. Yet, just as our ancestors found their way through darkness and uncertainty, so too can we chart a course forward. Hope may feel like an increasingly scarce resource, but like the stars hidden behind the clouds, it is never truly lost.
The impacts of climate change on communities are undeniable, yet at a time when global cooperation is more critical than ever, the United States has turned inward, withdrawing from the Paris Agreement and abandoning its commitments to climate action. Meanwhile, the current administration has glorified xenophobic rhetoric and enacted policies that instill fear and perpetuate violence against immigrants in our communities. Leadership rooted in exclusion and fear seeks to consolidate power, threatening to use law enforcement and military forces against those it deems adversaries.
These crises—climate change, xenophobia, and militarism—are often discussed as separate and distinct, but they are deeply interconnected. Climate change is rooted in an extractive, colonial framework that stands in direct opposition to Indigenous ways of relating to land and water. This same colonial mindset has divided us with borders and inequities, creating barriers and exclusions, even as the accelerating impacts of climate change displace communities from their homelands. If we continue down this path, we risk a future defined by militarization—one in which resources are secured for some at the expense of others. This is a vicious cycle of violence. But we are not bound to this framework. When we begin to unravel its threads, we can dismantle the entire system of thinking that sustains it.
We have collective agency in dispelling harmful narratives, building communities of solidarity, and designing and implementing powerful solutions. We also have the rich wisdom of the land, sea, sky, and those who came before us to guide our way. The greatest challenge to frameworks rooted in extraction, colonialism, and violence is the strength of communities united in solidarity. Our communities can hold space to grieve harms and losses, mobilize mutual aid to meet immediate needs, and organize for a different future.
We are not without guidance in this journey. Generations of knowledge and practice serve as our guiding stars. Pacific communities have long understood and nurtured the reciprocal relationship between people and their environment. While the world looks to economic growth and technological innovation as solutions to the climate crisis, Pacific histories teach us something different—that true peace and sustainability is found in living lightly on the land, in deep relationship with it and each other.
We are not alone in this uncertain time. Over the next four years, ICP will work to nurture and expand our Pacific Partnership Hub, connecting our work in Hawai‘i with communities in Aotearoa and across the Pacific. Our education and community-building will center our histories and traditions—guiding stars that will help us navigate turbulent waters as we seek climate justice and amplify positive peace. We embrace the opportunities that come with innovation, but not without first rooting ourselves in the wisdom of generations before us and within the communities around us. Though we move through a dark time, our guiding stars remain.