Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Decolonizing Heritage in Rapa Nui Toward
Decolonizing Heritage in Rapa Nui Toward
Decolonizing Heritage in Rapa Nui Toward
Introduction
Almost fourteen years after the United Nations Declaration on the Rights
of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) was adopted by the UN General As-
sembly, the implementation of its tenets by states is still far from satisfacto-
ry (Lenzerini 2019, 59). Indigenous peoples are frequently excluded from
decision-making processes on matters concerning their rights, and their
representative institutions are widely ignored by state authorities (Jansen
and Pérez 2017, 30; May 2017, 21). In many UNESCO World Heritage
contexts, Indigenous rights are being violated on a regular basis, especially
in national parks, where conservation standards imposed by state govern-
ments generally infringe the Indigenous rights established in UNDRIP
(Disko 2016; May and Strecker 2017; Stevens 2014).
This chapter contributes to the ongoing discussion on the implementa-
tion of UNDRIP in the field of heritage within the postcolonial world. In
this context, the case of the Rapanui people (Easter Island, Chile) is of par-
amount significance. Various points stated in UNDRIP are accomplished
through the establishment of an Indigenous-based administration of the
World Heritage Site Rapa Nui National Park (RNNP), which was achieved
as a result of Indigenous mobilization in 2015.
In March 2015, the local organization Parlamento Rapa Nui (Rapa Nui
Parliament) led the occupation of the RNNP, claiming their rights as In-
digenous people to their ancestral lands and cultural remains. They also
demanded regulatory measures to control outsider migration to the island.
After mediation between local authorities and Chilean authorities, the In-
1
In 2020, the UNESCO World Heritage list reached a total number of 1,121. Plenty of the World
Heritage Sites comprehend Indigenous lands (Disko 2016, 360-61).
117
digenous institution Ma’u Henua was created to administer the RNNP,
and the law Ley de residencia 21,070 was approved to regulate the entrance of
non-Rapanui individuals to the island (Young 2019, 230).
Indigenous-based administration of the RNNP suggested the start of a
decolonizing process of heritage in Rapa Nui, in line with various provi-
sions included in UNDRIP. This chapter aims to analyse this phenome-
non, describing the sociopolitical background of cultural heritage to con-
textualize the Indigenous struggle in the RNNP. The author’s two years
of fieldwork within the Polynesian community of Rapa Nui and master’s
thesis (Jornet 2018) on social anthropology and ethnography contribute
to the creation of this text.
2
Many sources place Hiva in the Marquesas Islands, in French Polynesia (Englert 2012; McCall 1976;
Métraux 1971).
118
once in Rapa Nui, the king Ko Hotu Matu’a divided the land into two
main domains known as mata: Ko Tu’u Aro Ko Te Mata Nui and Ko Tu’u
Hotu Iti Ko Te Mata Iti. Each domain was subdivided into many kāiηa
(clan territories), which were occupied by different ure (ancestral lineages),
as shown in Figure 1. As stated in the oral tradition, the first name given
to the island was Te Pito o Te Henua (The Navel of the World) (Englert
2012, 19; Ramírez 2008, 32).
Similar to other ancient Polynesian groups, the Rapanui ancestral society
obeyed a strict hierarchical system. Each lineage had its own ariki (chiefs),
who occupied the highest rank within the family groups, followed by the
ivi atua (priests) and the matato’a (warriors). The māori (erudites) were various
groups with specialised knowledge on different areas, such as the māori hare
(house builders) or the māori roηo roηo (instructors on how to read the roηo
roηo, undeciphered scripts consisting of a system of glyphs carved on wood-
en tablets). The kio (farmers and servants) remained at the bottom of the
social structure. The ariki mau, direct descendant of King Ko Hotu Matu’a,
was the main authority over the whole land. As a great holder of mana (su-
pernatural power), he was close to the ancient deities (Englert 2012; Métraux
1971; Routledge 2015).
Fig. 1: Clan territories according to the Council of Elders (1988) (Map by Matèria Edicions 2021).
119
The ancient social structure determined settlement patterns. The elites
of each ure (ancestral lineages) occupied the areas surrounding the coasts,
while low-ranking kio inhabited the inlands. Nowadays, the ancient con-
structions are still visible, especially those pertaining to the aristocracy,
such as the ahu (funerary platforms, many of them hosting the moai statues)
or the hare vaka (elite households). The common domestic pattern of the kio
included hare (houses), umu (oven), hare moa (structure for raising chicken),
and manavai (structure for plantation).
3
In the old Rapanui language, the term rapa did not exist to mean “island”. In this sense, it is clear
that the name Rapa Nui comes from the Tahitian language (Englert 2012, 20). Actually, the current
Rapanui language has a strong influence from Tahitian.
4
A colonial practice perpetrated between the nineteenth and the twentieth centuries to recruit,
through kidnapping or deception, Indigenous individuals from the Pacific islands to work as slaves in
European colonies. In the case of Rapa Nui, slaves were sent to El Callao (Peru) as a workforce for
the exploitation of guano, a fertilizer obtained from the excrement of bats and seabirds (Comisión de
Verdad Histórica y Nuevo Trato 2008, 268).
120
tlement had a strong impact on traditional settlement patterns. Food, tech-
nology, and animals attracted the Indigenous population, who started to
settle around the missions (Cristino and Vargas 1984, 55), rendering the
traditional occupation pattern in clan territories obsolete:
The former society was segmented and occupied different tribal terri-
tories. Suddenly, society became unified, based in a single village with a
centralized religious direction. A new community identity emerged in re-
sponse to the foreign encroachment that had led to a forced coexistence.
(translated from Foerster and Moreno Pakarati 2016, 16)
In 1888, the Chilean admiral Policarpo Toro reached Rapa Nui to establish
Chilean sovereignty over the island. A bilateral agreement known as Acuer-
do de Voluntades (Agreement of Intentions) was signed between the admiral
and the Rapanui king Atamu Tekena. This act ushered in Chilean settler
colonialism, which led to the first interactions between the Rapanui and
the Chilean state.
In 1895, the Chilean authorities rented the entire land to the Scotish
sheep farming company Williamson & Balfour. Formally, the island was
supposed to be administered by the Chilean Navy, but its presence was
rather weak. The Indigenous population was confined in the area of Haηa
Roa, with severe restrictions in mobility around the land. Williamson &
Balfour established an exploitative system that subjected the islanders to
violence and abuse. It is worth mentioning that in 1914, the islanders at-
tempted to lead a revolt encouraged by Maria Aηata Veri Tahi. It was mit-
igated on 5 August 1914 after the arrival of Chilean marines. Four people
were arrested, but they were released soon after without further punish-
ment (Fischer 2005, 170).
Despite complaints regarding the severe situation, Chilean authorities
extended the rental agreement to the company in 1915. It was not until
the 1950s that the situation was widely exposed by the Chilean and in-
ternational press. Members of the Sociedad de Amigos de Isla de Pascua
(Society of Easter Island’s friends), who had diplomatic influence on the
government and the Chilean Navy, exerted pressure to terminate the con-
tract with the company. As a result, in 1953, the contract was decisively
terminated and the administration of Rapa Nui was officially assumed by
the Chilean Navy.
With the end of the exploitation period, some islanders were allowed to
travel to the Chilean mainland. On 14 December 1960, the United Nations
proclaimed the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial
121
Countries and Peoples (UN General Assembly Resolution 1,514), which
states that colonial nations and peoples should be granted their independ-
ence. The Declaration inspired some of the islanders based in Chile to
publicly condemn the severe situation in Rapa Nui. Consequently, demon-
strations took place denouncing the abuse that the islanders had suffered,
and demanding total independence from the Chilean state.
As a result, state authorities abolished the military administration and
established a civil government in Rapa Nui. Although they did not achieve
self-determination, islanders acquired Chilean citizenship, which granted
them civil rights. What is more, the special law Ley Pascua 16,441 was ap-
proved to establish legal regulations concerning the island’s geographical
isolation and the vulnerable situation of its population. Despite the signif-
icant improvement of their political and economic status, Rapa Nui were
still discriminated against and banned from participating in any political
process concerning the island.
122
In 2001, the Parlamento Rapa Nui (Rapa Nui Parliament) was forged
as a political organization that demanded ancestral sovereignty, land own-
ership, and territorial integrity, as well as the safeguarding of Rapanui
culture (Parlamento Rapa Nui 2013). Although it is supposed to repre-
sent the thirty-six ancestral clans that form the Indigenous population,
the state does not officially recognize it, nor does the whole community
approve of their political approaches. Under the presidency of Leviante
Araki, it represents the radical core of Rapa Nui, aimed at self-determi-
nation against Chilean colonialism. Since its creation, the Parlamento
Rapa Nui has been a key agent in Rapanui activism for self-determina-
tion, engaging in several Indigenous mobilization efforts, such as the
occupation of the Hanga Roa Hotel in 2010 and the Rapa Nui National
Park in 2015.
The Municipality of Rapa Nui is the local government. The tavana
(mayor) Petero Edmunds Paoa is also present in the CODEIPA through
a representative, together with the governor of Rapa Nui, Laura Tarita
Alarcón Rapu. The governor is the direct representative of the national
government on the island.
123
al Forest Corporation) (CONAF). In this context, the heritage manage-
ment exercised by CONAF was conceived by the Indigenous population
as an extension of colonial authoritarianism (Comisión de Desarrollo de
Isla de Pascua 2015, 20).
The heritagization process in Rapa Nui completely ignored the Indig-
enous voice. Instead, it obeyed the tenets of the authorized heritage dis-
course, as described in the Convention Concerning the Protection of the
World Cultural and Natural Heritage in 1972. In this Convention, UNE-
SCO fixed the criteria to inscribe a site in the World Heritage List. These
parameters obeyed Eurocentric values from the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries: monumentality, universality, tangibility, and grandiloquence.
All in all, these constituted the basis of the authorized heritage discourse,
which frequently diverges from local discourses. In postcolonial contexts,
heritage becomes a field of contest regarding differing interests among
parties (Smith 2006).
Grandiloquence and monumentality were thus the main criteria used
to determine which elements of the ancestral cultural remains were to be
selected. As a result, the spatial morphology of the RNNP was shaped
in line with locations that had the most “authentic” and significant sites
according to experts. Restoration tasks were carried out with the intention
of creating an open-air museum, where ancient cultural remains could be
turned into tourist attractions (Concha 2017, 269; Teave and Cloud 2014,
409). This process followed the logic of the commodification of culture,
or the “mercantilization of the authentic” (Boltanski and Chiapello 2002).
Finally, in 1995 the RNNP was inscribed in the UNESCO World Heritage
List with the inscription reference 715. It would be the first site in Chile to
be declared World Heritage.
The operational guidelines for protecting, conserving, and restoring the
ancestral remains of Rapa Nui were also defined according to the author-
ized heritage discourse. Specialized knowledge on these fields is usually a
mandatory requirement to pursue tasks of restoration and conservation.
As a result, the scientific community becomes one of the only agents al-
lowed to intervene in these procedures. Indigenous peoples are most often
excluded from the conservation and restoration processes (Smith 2006).
124
placed near the coast, which was inhabited by the elites. With the creation
of the RNNP, all of these coastal areas were included in the World Her-
itage site, along with other monumental sites such as Rano Raraku and
the ceremonial village of Oroηo in Rano Kau. Figure 2 shows how the
morphology of the RNNP takes shape according to the location of monu-
mental sites. As stated in the Decree no. 9 of the Chilean Ministry of Na-
tional Assets, the current extension of the national park is 6,910 hectares,
representing approximately 41.44 percent of the entire Rapa Nui.
Fig. 2: Limits of the Rapa Nui National Park (Bienes Nacionales 2004, in Corporación Na-
cional Forestal 2017).
When comparing the shape of the national park to the distribution of the
ancient kāiηa (Figure 1), it is obvious that the RNNP occupies Rapanui
ancestral lands. This was a pillar of the Rapanui struggle for the right
to manage the national park. It was not just about the cultural legacy of
their ancestors, but also the territories pertaining to their ancestral line-
ages. The concept of kāiηa is central to Rapanui society.
Before the arrival of colonialism, clan-based social organization deter-
mined the territoriality of Rapa Nui. Ancient clans were the legitimate
owners of many kāiηa throughout the island. The boundaries between
125
territories delimited sociopolitical interaction, which was restricted by
the tapu. Furthermore, the identity of individuals was defined on the ba-
sis of their lineage affiliation, which means they had strong connections
with their kāiηa. Despite the severe changes in the traditional social
structure as a consequence of colonialism, the oral tradition in Rapanui
society still contains the genealogies of the ancestral clans and territories
until today.
In 1988, the Council of Elders published a crucial work entitled “Te
Ma’u Hatu o Rapa Nui” (The Sovereigns of Rapa Nui). This volume was a
compilation of all the genealogies of the current Rapanui society. Thus,
every individual was identified as pertaining to a concrete ancestral
clan. An official report issued for the United Nations Development Pro-
gramme (UNDP) by the anthropologist Camila Zurob and the Rapanui
historian Cristián Moreno Pakarati (2013, 30) stated the following: “The
representativeness of the book, its content and approaches have not been
put in doubt publicly by the islanders ... nowadays the Rapa Nui Parlia-
ment ... refers to its maps to claim for the inherited right to lands.”
This document provides historical and cultural context to the Indig-
enous land claims. It proves the historical continuity of the population
as Indigenous people to Rapa Nui. Since they are the direct descendants
of the original inhabitants of the island, they have become the legitimate
owners of the land. The sense of belonging to the ancient clan territories
has remained clearly alive. Despite the existence of different clans in
former times, today’s Rapanui society conceives itself as a unique group
(McCall 1976). The notion of otherness is no longer based on the differ-
entiation between clan groups. Instead, “the others” are nowadays all
those individuals who do not have Rapanui ancestry.
The current local discourse on territory reflects all these points. Since
the local Rapanui conceive of themselves as a unique group, their sense
of territoriality is based on the concept of kāiηa as a unique domain: the
island of Rapa Nui. Actually, in public instances it is common to use
the expression “e te hua’ai o te kāiηa” to address the audience, meaning
“you, families of the territory”. This sentence elucidates the current so-
cial structure as a whole. It consists of a group of families differentiated
by ascendance, but linked as a society into a single territorial unit.
Territoriality is critical in contextualizing the demands for the admin-
istration of the Rapa Nui National Park, and to understand the cultural
background behind the processes for decolonizing heritage in Rapa Nui.
Heritage claims are also land demands, based on the notion of kāiηa.
Since the RNNP is located within the ancestral territories, the takeover
126
of its administration by the Indigenous community can be assumed as a
decolonization act of both land and heritage simultaneously.
5
The Haηa Roa Hotel was occupied by the Hitoraηi clan, the Civic Center by the Tuko Tuki clan,
and the Riro Kaiηa Square by members of the community and the Rapa Nui Parliament (Chartier,
Chirif, and Tomas 2011, 21).
127
to the island. An initiative was needed to solve a central issue concern-
ing the environmental condition of Rapa Nui, since research had proved
that the carrying capacity of the island had reached a critical point. An
organic law on migratory flow was needed to regulate the entrance and
departures of individuals to the island. Although commissioners had in-
sisted on this matter in many instances, no conclusive response had been
provided by state representatives.
As a consequence of the Chilean authorities’ refusal to reach an agree-
ment, the Rapa Nui Parliament met many times to evaluate the situa-
tion. This proved to be a turning point in the Indigenous struggle in
Rapa Nui. As discussed by Maōri author Linda Tuhiwai Smith (2012),
social injustice within postcolonial contexts triggers the awakening of
consciousness, which leads to the struggle for decolonization. In the case
of Rapa Nui, it was this precise moment when the Rapa Nui Parliament
decided to mobilize for the decolonization of lands and cultural heritage.
Leviante Araki, president of the Rapa Nui Parliament, stated:
I have been waiting for many years, and I see there is no hope. I talked
to my people, and we the Rapanui agreed on closing our heritage and
moving CONAF definitely from there ... then, start to administer (our
heritage) ... This is not a park, it is a cemetery, a sacred place. Our grand-
parents are there. That is why we agree on closing this. (translated by the
author, Salfate 2015)
On 26 March 2015, members of the Rapa Nui Parliament initiated the oc-
cupation of the RNNP (Young 2020, 10; 2019, 229). Control points were
established to close access to touristic sites, and the state institution CON-
AF was impeded from selling entrance tickets. No state violence was used
to stop the mobilization. This occupation was extended for a few months
as a strategy to create political pressure on state authorities in order to get
new opportunities for negotiation. A few days after the initial occupation,
tourists were allowed to enter the RNNP, but only if accompanied by a
Rapanui individual. Shortly after, an entrance ticket was required to visit
the national park, available at the office of the Rapa Nui Parliament.
Although the state did not respond to the mobilization at first, it re-
sorted to repression in the fifth month of the occupation. On 15 August
2015, two members of the Rapa Nui Parliament, president Leviante Araki
and activist Mario Tuki were arrested for disorderly conduct and fraud. In
response, Rino Tuki, the Rapanui counselor in the National Corporation
for Indigenous Development (CONADI), stated that this episode of state
128
repression constituted a violation of the Rapanui right to self-determina-
tion (El Ciudadano 2015).
As a result of the mobilizations, the dialogue between the CODEIPA
representatives and state authorities was reestablished to discuss the Rapanui
demands. On 14 April 2015, the Chilean government announced its com-
mitment to present a draft law regulating the migratory issues in the island,
which was approved by the community through Indigenous consultation on
24 January 2016. On 30 April 2016, President Michelle Bachelet also gave
her approval by publicly signing the draft law. Almost two years later, on 23
March 2018, the law was published in the government gazette under the title
“Law 21,070 on Residence and Permanent Residence on Rapa Nui”. In Au-
gust 2018, the law officially came into force, fixing a maximum stay period
in the island of 30 days for both Chileans and foreigners.
On 26 July 2015, negotiations concluded in an agreement on pursu-
ing Indigenous consultation about the administration of the RNNP, in
accordance with the right to consultation established in Article 6 of the
ILO Convention 169. On 25 October 2015, a referendum was held, and
86.6 percent of participants voted in favour of an Indigenous-based ad-
ministration model, which would be implemented for a fixed period of
fifty years as a concession to the Rapanui. Consequently, the Indigenous
organization Ma’u Henua was created to be in charge of the national park’s
administration. On 1 October 2016, co-administration began between the
state organization CONAF and Ma’u Henua. In November 2017, Ma’u
Henua finally became the only organization responsible for the RNNP, as
accorded in consultation.
129
population as an act of colonialism. Regarding this topic, the written
proposal for the creation of Ma’u Henua stated the following:
The safeguarding of the land, the heritage sites, the archaeological re-
sources and the island’s biodiversity pursued by the RNNP (CONAF) is
not considered as a benefit for the island in the community’s collective
imagination. RNNP is synonymous to CONAF and the state. This is
considered to be the continuity of the land administration system by ex-
ternal agents … This is why CONAF is far from being considered a local
participative and respectable agent that effectively safeguards the natural
and cultural heritage of Rapa Nui. (translated by the author, Comisión de
Desarrollo de Isla de Pascua 2015, 20)
130
involvement in decision-making processes. It represents all the thirty-six
hua’ai (extended family groups) that comprise the current Rapanui society.
Each hua’ai has its own representative, who is constantly informed about
any matter raised by Ma’u Henua. After representatives consult their re-
spective family groups, they gather to settle on agreements. Hence, actions
executed by Ma’u Henua are determined following the Honui’s criteria,
established according to consensus reached by all community lineages.
Another aspect concerning decolonization of heritage is the relevance giv-
en to traditional knowledges, values, and worldviews. The total body of no-
tions, ideas, and thoughts that define traditional Rapanui knowledge is known
as mana’u Rapanui, and is fundamental in decision-making processes. Maramar-
ama (wisdom) is also a valuable quality that enables individuals to comprehend
reality in a particular way, formulating ideas and approaches that contribute
to decision-making. Hence, Indigenous criteria stand at the core of heritage
management procedures, in harmony with the scientific knowledge used in
technical operations, such as protection and conservation practices.
New criteria for selecting heritage sites were defined by Ma’u Henua
according to mana’u Rapanui. The community recognized many sacred
places previously ignored by the governmental heritage management agen-
cies, designating new areas as exhibition zones. These would be included
in protection and conservation programmes. The community agreed on
redefining the territorial configuration of the RNNP, reestablishing its
boundaries and taking into account the location of recently selected sites
(Prensa Rapa Nui 2017). As a result, shortly after Ma’u Henua initiated its
management tasks, the number of sites included in the protection and con-
servation plans augmented from five to twenty-five, and a team of more
than seventy park rangers was distributed over the island. This allowed
several locals to participate directly in heritage management, since park
rangers were recruited from the local population.
The mana’u Rapanui also attributes new values to the heritage sites. Apart
from being an economic resource, ancestral legacy is considered as a tool
to facilitate the intergenerational transmission of the traditional knowledge
related to ancestral culture. When referring to the RNNP and the impor-
tance of taking care of it, it is common to use the expression mo te hinarere
(for the great grandchildren), meaning that all efforts must be done to
keep the ancestral legacy for future generations. Hence, educational estab-
lishments plan school trips to the RNNP in order to show pupils the par-
ticularities of their ancient culture and the natural features of the island,
raising awareness on the importance of taking care of their ancestral legacy
and natural environment (Ma’u Henua 2019).
131
The inclusion of community members in conservation activities is an-
other defining aspect of the Indigenous-based heritage management mod-
el. This point introduces a clear divergence from classical conservation
standards, which restrict the management of heritage sites to certified spe-
cialists (Smith and Waterton 2009). Ma’u Henua considers conservation a
field where Indigenous experts and academics should interact in cooper-
ation:
Ma’u Henua has become a space where diverse fields of technical academic
specialization and local experts could develop their activities in a comple-
mentary and joint manner. This is one of the most important spaces for the
application of cultural and technical methodologies that dialogue with the
tangible and intangible heritage context. (Panorama 2020)
132
Indigenous Consultation
During the negotiation process in 2015, state authorities agreed on pursu-
ing Indigenous consultations regarding the control of the migratory flow
in Rapa Nui and the administration of the RNNP. On 24 January 2016,
Indigenous consultation took place in Rapa Nui about the draft law on
migratory issues proposed by state authorities. Following a 97.7 percent
approval rate, the law was implemented in August 2018 as Law 21,070 on
Residence and Permanent Residence on Rapa Nui. Consultation regarding
the Indigenous-based management of the RNNP took place on 25 Octo-
ber 2015, with 86.6 percent of the votes expressing consent. This led to
the establishment of the Ma’u Henua as the official agent to administer
the RNNP.
Within the negotiation framework of this political process, Chilean
authorities referred explicitly to the recommendation formulated in Ar-
ticle 6 of the ILO Convention 169, which urges governments to consult
Indigenous populations whenever a legislative or administrative initiative
concerns them. The concepts of consultation and cooperation are also
mentioned in many sections of UNDRIP, including Articles 15(2), 17(2),
19, 30(2), 32(2), 36(2), and 38. Article 19 in particular states the following:
States shall consult and cooperate in good faith with the indigenous peo-
ples concerned through their own representative institutions in order to
obtain their free, prior and informed consent before adopting and imple-
menting legislative or administrative measures that may affect them. (Unit-
ed Nations 2007)
With the implementation of the Law 21,070 to control migration and tour-
ist flows, effective measures were established to solve the island’s overpop-
ulation. Since this issue was a threat to the Indigenous cultural integrity
(Teave and Cloud 2014, 412), this achievement implies the enforcement of
Article 8 of UNDRIP regarding “the right not to be subjected to forced
assimilation or destruction of their culture.”
133
ing processes through Indigenous institutions is clearly defined in Article
18 of UNDRIP. Each hua’ai has its own representative “chosen by them-
selves in accordance with their own procedures” (United Nations 2007,
Article 18), following the local criteria based on familiar agreements.
Honui facilitates the participation of the community in the deci-
sion-making processes by Ma’u Henua concerning changes that affect the
Rapanui population. This mechanism ensures the right to consultation es-
tablished by UNDRIP. Honui gathers the opinions of the different family
groups and stands as the official interlocutor between the community’s
position and other stakeholders within decision-making procedures.
134
as Article 26(2), which urges states to recognize “traditional ownership
or other traditional occupation or use” of the land, and Article 27, which
requires states to acknowledge Indigenous land tenure systems, in order to
“recognize and adjudicate the rights of indigenous peoples pertaining to
their lands, territories and resources”.
Decolonization of heritage has also taken place beyond national parks.
The repatriation of human remains has been another goal within this pro-
cess. On 27 January 2018, the Rapanui initiative Ka Haka Hoki Mai Te
Mana Tupuna achieved, for the first time in the Rapanui history (Young
2019, 229), the repatriation of ancestral human remains from the Otago
Museum, New Zealand’s Canterbury Museum, and the Museum of New
Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa. This represents a big step forward in the
decolonization of Rapanui cultural heritage, in line with Article 12 of UN-
DRIP regarding the right to the repatriation of human remains.
Conclusion
The current extent of UNDRIP’s implementation in the postcolonial world
is far from unanimous, and Indigenous rights continue to be systematically
violated worldwide. Since there are no specific guidelines on how these rights
must be accomplished by state governments, academic research in this field
is essential to analyse to what extent UNDRIP tenets are being respected,
to be used as reference cases for future policy-making by governments and
international bodies, and for grassroots movements and non-governmental
Indigenous organizations within the field of activism.
Although self-determination by the Rapanui people is far from fully
achieved, their case study has elucidated how the decolonization process of
cultural heritage in the RNNP is in line with many points established in
UNDRIP. What is more, cultural heritage itself has proved to be a key tool
for Indigenous rights advocates in instigating effective political negotiations
with state authorities. As a result, the establishment of Ma’u Henua as an
Indigenous-based administration of the RNNP proves the feasibility of the
implementation of UNDRIP standards in heritage contexts.
The experience of the Rapanui people connects them with many other
Indigenous peoples worldwide, as they share historical similarities in their
struggle for decolonization. Actually, several world heritage sites have been
placed in Indigenous lands (Disko and Tugendhat 2014; Disko 2016; May
and Strecker; Stevens 2014), and efforts across the world have taken place
to regain control over ancestral territories. For instance, the Shiretoko pen-
135
insula in Hokkaido, Japan, was declared as a World Heritage Natural Area
in 2005 without any consultation with the local Ainu Indigenous people.
In this context, the Ainu have led initiatives demanding the right to partic-
ipate in the management of the Shiretoko World Heritage site (Ono 2014,
284). Another significant case is the Tongariro National Park (Aotearoa/
New Zealand), where several Māori iwi (tribes) succeeded at ensuring their
involvement in the management of this World Heritage Area located in
their ancestral lands (Asher 2014, 399).
Nevertheless, decolonization of heritage is not just about World Her-
itage Sites. Other matters connecting decolonizing struggles are, among
other practices, the several human repatriation claims that have been car-
ried out by many Indigenous groups, such as the Māori (Aranui 2018),
the Ainu (Shimizu 2018), and the Aboriginal communities of Australia
(Turnbull 2020). Although each case is distinct, in terms of procedures and
achievements, they all share the same purpose.
Taking into account the political background of heritage, especially
when it comes to Indigenous rights, decolonization processes of heritage
will always imply political struggle (Disko and Tugendhat 2014; Disko
2016; Giblin 2015; May and Strecker 2017; Smith 2006; Smith and Wa-
terton 2009; Stevens 2014; Van Geert, Roigé, and Conget 2016). In this
context, UNDRIP should be considered the legal framework of reference,
in order to respect Indigenous peoples’ interests on their way towards de-
colonization of cultural heritage within the postcolonial world.
136
References
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