Ecotourism an option in small island destinations?

Abstract

This article, using a postcolonial and political economy framework, examines how tourism development seems an appealing solution for small islands, especially in the form of community-based (sustainable) ecotourism. The article follows with how residents of small island destinations in the Pacific engage with the global tourism market to diversify their economy and increase income as a counterweight to emigration. The article then discusses how this experience might be modeled in Wallis and Futuna, a French territory of the South Pacific. Although small islands of the Pacific possess a variety of assets, not the least of which today is their remoteness and their different culture, they face a number of challenges to maintain their appeal on the global market. Authorities in Wallis and Futuna seem to have forsaken some of their assets and political will even though a few residents seek to obtain the means to remain in the territory through returns from small tourism enterprises.

Keywords

Ecotourism sustainability postcolonialism Pacific islands remote destination Wallis and Futuna

Introduction

Faraway places are represented as locations for special forms of tourism deemed more sustainable. Is ecotourism (understood as alternative to mass tourism and thus more sustainable because less intrusive) development possible in small islands, in particular those located in the South Pacific and can it help improve economic well-being there? Implementation of sustainable practices is a rather difficult and complex task but yet remains critical as more remote islands would seem to have restricted development opportunities (Gough et al., 2010). It should still be possible to plan for touristic experiences that will provide sustainable outcomes. The main attraction of small islands is their remoteness which should have permitted the survival of customs and of “pristine” landscapes (as imagined by most tourists to remote places) that some authors believe are the bases for ecotourism (Ceballos-Lascuráin, 1988; Wilson, 2013; Zeppel, 2006). The question for this article then is whether ecotourism development is a solution for economic betterment and cultural survival in Wallis and Futuna, a small, remote French territory of the Southwest Pacific.

Tourism has been touted as a powerful tool for economic development in lesser developed countries with a demonstrated increase of revenues per year of 154% between 1990 and 2000 (Roe et al., 2004: 7), but there is no indication of the starting level of these revenues: even if a small sum is tripled, it does not necessarily lift the standard of living significantly. A larger economic development strategy that diversifies the local economy and supports its sustainability could include tourism as an economic tool, for the benefit of its residents rather than foreign investors. Sustainability principles indicate that local people are active in local development to retain their social coherence and their local culture. Sustainability principles are supposed to ensure a bottom-up distribution of benefits even though (or especially because) implementing laws that would support indigenization are often considered interference with market mechanisms. The question is whether the authorities of small remote islands like Wallis and Futuna will support ecotourism development, under what conditions, and what models they would follow.

Marginalized Indigenous groups are using the cultural turn of the global economy (for economic growth) as well as ecotourism, even if it means that they commodify their environments and their cultures (Reimer and Walter, 2013; Sofield and Tamasese, 2011). They seek more than subsistence returns for themselves and for their community. Much development, however, has come from the top and from international investors anxious to exploit the latest travel fads of voyagers. It also underlines how commodification (of nature and culture) involves complex relations with the market. International bodies have also evoked tourism development to encourage greater economic autonomy so that residents will not emigrate. Inhabitants of small islands are already embedded in numerous international networks and in modernity, so adopting ecotourism should not be as disruptive as feared by some authors. There are, for example, more Wallisians and Futunans outside of the territory than in it. Such embeddedness in global networks has also made them realize that participation in globalization can help their economy and their culture.

The article begins with a brief presentation of the methodology and theoretical framework adopted. Sustainability is then examined as a possible guidance for tourism development within postcolonialism and political ecology. The study continues by assessing the conditions for the sustainable development of ecotourism in small islands such as Wallis and Futuna, using other examples of tourism development in South Pacific islands. Wallis and Futuna is a French territory slightly north east of Fiji—Figure 1, made up of three islands with a maximum length of 15 km each. Wallis is the furthest north; Futuna and Alofi lie 200 km south west. Do these remote islands possess any basis to be used to advance their singular identity, to formulate their “difference” to make themselves visible and attractive ecotourism destinations on the global tourism market? The next section evaluates the local development plans of Wallis and Futuna. The article continues by critically examining how local challenges might affect future prospects in that territory.

Figure 1.

Location of Wallis and Futuna and details of the islands. Map by Max Oulton of the University of Waikato.

Research framework

Prolonged stays (of several years) in the French Pacific (I was raised in French Polynesia and travelled often through the South Pacific, including to New Zealand where I finished high school), in Madagascar, and in Connecticut, USA, awakened my interest in indigenous culture and its preservation, as well as in colonial imposition and appropriations and postcolonial relations between colonized and colonizers. I have visited frequently for research since 2000 and still have family in the French Pacific, so I am very familiar with the political and economic situation of these territories. I have published the results of my research on the French Pacific in 15 scholarly articles and book chapters, besides other work on issues linked to American Indian ownership of Foxwoods Casino Resort in Connecticut. My knowledge, when it has not been specifically referenced to other authors, is based on interviews and participant observation in all parts of the French Pacific. The territory of Wallis and Futuna is very difficult to visit at length or frequently so I have complemented the earlier material obtained onsite (2003, 2009) with more recent official publications on the state of affairs in Wallis and Futuna (up to 2014), most of which confirms the trends looked at in 2003 and 2009. Things, apparently, move very slowly in Wallis and Futuna.

Methodology

The methodology used in my research is both qualitative and reflexive. A qualitative methodology enables one to uncover subjective meanings that complete our understanding of the social world, which is defined out of personal and cultural experiences, not just through statistics (Bryman, 2012; Jennings, 2011; Walliman, 2011). I do not presume to speak for the residents of Wallis and Futuna, or to have become a well-integrated insider of Indigenous culture but I bear witness on issues that concern them. Qualitative methodology requires reflexivity about, among other factors, one’s positionality, to ensure that one does give voice to the local area and does so in the most unbiased way possible. Bias exists in all forms of research, so quantitative methods do not necessarily provide more robust and rigorous results. Qualitative methodology dictates clear ways that ensure the rigor and robustness of data collection and analysis. A qualitative methodology recognizes the plurality of interpretations possible, none of which is more valid or self-evident. It does not seek generalizable principles (Stedman, 2003: 824) so it creates challenges for direct comparisons and for repetitive hypothesis testing in other sites.

The data come from participant observation (Dewalt, 2011) at many of the sites I had the opportunity to visit during my stays in Wallis and Futuna, including a religious celebration with customary offerings and traditional dances. I had access to a car so I could travel throughout the island of Wallis both times. In Futuna the interviewees and many sites were accessible on foot because I stayed in the two existing hotels. Other data were obtained through 30 semistructured interviews (Longhurst, 2009) in Wallis and Futuna in 2009 and 25 interviews in 2003, of government officials of the territory or from France and of locally elected persons, of women as individuals and/or as members of organizations, and of other persons who owned a tourism enterprise or worked to support tourism development in Wallis and Futuna. Everybody there speaks French so there was no need for an interpreter. I also interviewed a few rare tourists. Observations and interviews were accomplished during stays of several weeks each in 2003 and 2009 and only after having obtained ethical approval from my university. Information was culled too from documents published by official organizations, tourism providers, cultural and other kinds of associations and different government bodies in Wallis and Futuna, as well as from academic publications by researchers who have worked on ecotourism, Indigenous issues, and the South Pacific until now.

The analysis is based on different modes of coding and interpreting discourses (Altinay and Paraskevas, 2008; Fairclough, 2013). After familiarizing myself with the data, I ordered it through coding to discover the main ideas that were developed by participants during the interviews in particular but also in relation with documents that made up the secondary data and my knowledge of the issues. Documents published in Wallis and Futuna were analyzed to reveal context, attitudes, and values and to understand local actions and relations. Words expressing these ideas during interviews or in documents were underlined to facilitate coding and categorization into themes. During interviews, one demand was repeated by almost everyone, whatever his/her position: the need for financial support. It reflects the knowledge of residents of the territory that the French state provides subsidies but, unfortunately, only a few people cash in while the majority of the population does not. I then linked these concepts with the existing theoretical literature, guided by sustainability issues and postcolonialism. These ideas were elaborated in this article rather than simply offering a “few unrepresentative quotes to support initial prejudices” (Jackson, 2001: 202), a critique often leveled at qualitative researchers.

Theoretical framework

The article draws on critical social theories to explore the dynamics of tourism development in small isolated geographical spaces and to understand how it might be implemented to become a source of local income. Critical awareness not only contributes to the empowerment of individuals and communities, but it puts their voices back in the center of institutionalized public spheres. Postcolonialism as a theoretical framework constantly questions existing relations and demands that one rethink the very terms by which knowledge has been constructed. The postcolonial is an attitude and a point of view, inscribed in a critical intervention that seeks to introduce sensitivity to the political and economic consequences of different forms of economic development on the desires of the local population. Postcolonialism is not used to indicate the end of colonialism but to enable issues of dependency and impoverishment to be brought to the fore as well as to deconstruct structures (including remaining colonial ones) that cause them. It elaborates alternative solutions that represent a break from the unequal relations colonial rule imposed in many areas. Postcolonial theory has sought to bring forth views of the world held by oppressed people and their histories of resistance and struggle (d’Hauteserre, 2004, 2006; Ziai, 2011). Postcolonialism also forces an acknowledgement about how researchers are enmeshed and implicated in the contest of forces they analyze.

Within postcolonialism, political economy perspectives have guided this research. Capitalist modes of development dominate world economic growth, leading Hart (2005) to point out that two-thirds of humanity have been marginalized from any economic gains. Political economy facilitates an understanding of what matters to people, especially how they envisage tourism and which aspects to incorporate into their economy and culture. It thus supports the indigenization of the production of destinations, i.e. enabling Indigenous people to have a say in the use of their resources and to reap direct benefits (Din, 1997). Ecotourism and/or cultural tourism have been encouraged to resolve poverty in rural areas (Epler Wood, 2007). These forms of tourism can be just as guilty of social disruption, environmental pollution, and forced displacement. Political economy suggests the development of micro and small businesses in small islands like Wallis and Futuna in order to derive sustainable income from tourism development. The problem remains whether, given the local context and global conditions, tourism development can actually bring economic and social benefits to small local communities (Higham, 2007).

Postcolonialism, sustainability, and ecotourism development

Sustainability, although no universal definition has been accepted for it (e.g. Hardy et al., 2002; Mowforth and Munt, 1998: 40), has become internationally accepted to signify improvement in the quality of life, the conservation of natural resources, and recognition of the needs of future generations. In other words, sustainability as a new paradigm is the practical implementation of postcolonial theory and political economy concerns. Sustainability, as a strong concept, refers to the viability of relations between society and nature over long periods of time and encompasses issues of social justice, gender equality, and political participation (Bruntdland, 1987; Cater, 2004; Giampiccoli, 2007; Kahveci et al., 2011; Scheyvens, 2002). Other publications (Cambodia, 2008; d’Hauteserre, 2010; Hughes, 2004; Keitumetse, 2007; Munar, 2007; Purcell, 2009), however, question whether the balance between the originally lofty goals of sustainability can be reached considering the unsustainable nature of many tourism operations around the world and the difficulty for people to change to this lifestyle paradigm. Liu confirms that the use of “sustainability” principles in tourism is “patchy, disjointed and often flawed with false assumptions and arguments” (2003: 459). Only a weak form of sustainability is actually practiced today.

Since sustainability should redefine interaction between humans and the environment in a complex and dynamic context, the adoption of ecotourism could “provide an opportunity to bridge the gap between natural resource conservation and community development” (Lai and Nepal, 2006: 119). The tourism destination is the most interested stakeholder in sustainability, i.e. in yield management and quality, rather than in numbers of potential visitors. Agenda 21 (chapter 11) encouraged governments to support sustainable resource management and planning. The discourse of sustainability has been widely embraced because Agenda 21 (and the Malé Declaration) sought to combat poverty, change consumption patterns, and sustainable use of resources (Favro and Brebbia, 2013; Gee and Fayos-Sola, 1997). A gap though still exists between the original discourse about sustainability and its implementation in tourism development because the discourse of sustainability remains embedded in its capitalist roots. This discourse often obfuscates the lack of implementation of the principles it seems to advocate. Foreign owned 4/5 star resorts in New Caledonia, Tahiti or Fiji exemplify this form of foreign capitalist investment-led tourism development.

Community participation has been heralded as an important tool in the struggle against inequalities (Higgins Desbiolles, 2007; Mowforth and Munt, 2009; Stronza, 2010). It would mean adopting local knowledge systems and community level actions and using resources local people currently control. As Sofield (2003) underlines, community participation is tied to the empowerment of the local and/or Indigenous people. “The purpose is to reconfigure reality by adding value to positive [Indigenous] development” as Fleras (2004: 123) reminds us, rather than to facilitate the accumulation of wealth by outsiders. Ecotourism, however, is not a prescription for all economic and social limitations faced by peripheral populations (Chaperon and Bramwell, 2013). Communities are not immune to social divisions and challenges, because communities based on location are heterogeneous, so internal disputes, misunderstandings about the distribution of ecotourism revenues and taxes, and about the division of tasks, can disrupt hierarchies and erode local structures (Reimer and Walter, 2013; Schellhorn, 2010).

Power is about access to resources (Chatterjee and Finger, 2014). Those with power possess or can obtain capital to invest, e.g. in tourism development; their position determines their ability to engage in tourism enterprises and thus their ability to benefit from such development (Church and Coles, 2006; d’Hauteserre, 2011). Outside investors often have power to determine what kind of development will occur, its timing, and its location. Power hierarchies occur also within countries and within small local communities. It then often occurs at the expense of the rest of the community members, especially the poorer and/or most marginalized ones. Power shapes dominant discourses in the social construction of ecotourism and determine who profits from commodification of natural resources. Attempts in many community-based initiatives to present a consensus, what seems like a united front, can only mute or hide oppositional voices, since those with power can impose their perspectives (Butcher, 2013). Power, position, identity, and privileges (even if and especially when they are invisible) have a definite role on whether sustainability can be implemented (Church and Coles, 2006), and determine who will benefit from tourism development.

The implementation of sustainability in tourism or in ecotourism occurs following gradual assimilation of new routines by the locals, motivation for capacity building, and desire to get involved. Moreover, time is of the essence when learning to deal with outsiders. Local inputs mapped onto the larger networks of global relations woven by tourism counteract local feelings of powerlessness relative to the global economy. The “indigenization” of tourism development (Din, 1997) means that Indigenous aspirations, experiences, and realities guide the type and size as well as the location of destinations, to enable the local people to “maintain their lifestyle” as is underlined by Logologofolau. President of the territorial assembly in the 1980s, he was the first (as quoted on p. 8) to advocate tourism development for Wallis and Futuna when the first air links were established for the territory in 1986. When supported by broad sociopolitical decisions (made at the national or global levels) it becomes a way to balance the daily needs of local people to engage with the challenges of globalization and to produce the necessary creative possibilities. It is a form of resistance to extraction by those who operate within a strictly capitalist mode of exploitation (Weaver, 2010). When indigenization has been successful it has sometimes caused a backlash of accusations of practices detrimental to the area and of “lucky” circumstances rather than recognition of visionary management by the tribal group.

Models of ecotourism development in Pacific Islands

Creative and dynamic community-based ecotourism for a small niche market has been considered a form of sustainable ecotourism development for small islands like Wallis and Futuna (Favro and Brebbia, 2013). This market positionality addresses consumers who seek true novelty in places still ignored by mainstream tourists and assures visitors that the product offers true difference (Scherrer and Doohan, 2013; Wilson, 2013). Such destinations depend on consumers’ understandings and appreciation as much as on their remote location. Consumers are dynamically involved in the process of construction of such destinations and their expectations (for symbolic significance, quality of experience, availability of services, as well as for the esthetics of the site) are often based on experiences outside this particular niche. The global economy has put difference under siege in many varied locations. Harnessing ingenuity and creativity by residents of these islands to own a “difference engine” (Power, 2010) does not guarantee the permanence of the attractivity of the destination but it grounds the participation of the inhabitants of the area.

In Fiji much tourism development has resulted from overseas investment, which maintains uneven capitalist relations. It explains the high level of leakages there: over 60% (Harrison and Prasad, 2013). Leakages include (as in most destinations in less developed areas of the world) promotion overseas, imported food to satisfy western tastes, profits repatriated by the foreign owners of (investors in) the hotels, etc. It is common in small islands where resorts have been developed with foreign capital to have up to 85% worth of leakages. In Fiji, it has led to a concentration of tourism development close to the gateway (Nadi) and along the nicer beaches (e.g. Yasawa area). They are close to the airport and use the best available natural resources, which in turn limits access to those resources by the local population. Sofield and Tamasese (2011) found that starred hotels (three stars or above) in Samoa imported 70% of their food needs. Harrison and Prasad (2013) indicate that some investors do exercise limited corporate social responsibility so leakages from their properties are less detrimental to the surrounding local economy. It seems that the lower wages paid by locally owned entities have translated into somewhat improved livelihoods in Fiji, partly because there is less leakage than from foreign hotels. In Vanuatu, wages have enabled small improvements in the villages they come from (Vanuatu National Tourism Development office, 2004: 104).

Social responsibility by tourism developers is totally lacking in New Caledonia and French Polynesia (e.g. Tahiti Pacifique, November 2010, June 2012) and would thus have little chance of occurring in Wallis and Futuna if the same incentives were used to attract investors to create resorts. Tourism development in New Caledonia and French Polynesia is linked to large fiscal incentives (two different legal apparatuses can be used so that developers need to invest only around 30% of the value—DIXIT 2001–2012, Fenua Economie, 2014). International hotel companies lease only their logos to those buildings whose ultimate fate is to be sold into small apartments. The Radisson hotel in Mahina, Tahiti, has seen such a transformation since 2012. Hotel Tahiti, on the Western outskirts of Papeete, the main city, first displayed the Sheraton logo for four years, then the Hilton logo for another three and was then closed in 2012 (personal observation). It means the managers have little incentive to distribute benefits locally: leakages are high. In Samoa, on the other hand, most accommodation units are owned and operated by Samoans, even at the upper end of the market (Harrison and Prasad, 2013), so more of the profits benefit those islands. Wallis and Futuna, though, like Tuvalu, Kiribati, and Niue have few visitors so that there would be little incentive (other than fiscal ones) for large foreign resort development. Those islands could then follow the example of Aniwa in Vanuatu to develop tourism on the basis of mutual recognition and respect between hosts and guests (Wilson, 2013).

Earlier research on Pacific small islands underlined poor outcomes because of lack of resources and remoteness: neoliberal perspectives had focused too much on the lack of environmental resources and on distance from markets. More recent studies (Scheyvens and Momsen, 2008; Wilson, 2013) have turned vulnerabilities on their head, demonstrating that evidence does not always support pessimistic conclusions. Most islanders have weathered centuries of life on their domains without abandoning them and have thus been accused to “tend to have an exaggerated sense of independence and self-importance” (McVey, 2002: 95). Such an attitude can bring forth better solutions than one of dependence; dependence seemed the only possibility while they were accused of great vulnerability to global economic fluctuations and global warming. Traditional cultural and social capitals have supported the adaptation of most residents of Pacific Islands to such forces (Baldacchino, 2005; Skelton, 2007). The new movement to incorporate both Western and customary laws in the South Pacific delineates a symbolic space where social actors enjoy a great deal of freedom in their strategies and decision-making allowing not only for the preservation of local values and institutions, but also for the potential to negotiate adjustments to contemporary moving realities.

Sustainable Travel International was established to “redefine travel and tourism as a global force for good” (TotemTourism, 2012) in the hope that ecotourism could deliver the benefits it claims to provide. They actively seek alliances to develop sustainable destinations, including for the South Pacific. Tourism, however, has a very long, very deep, and very complex value chain. Creating spaces for tourist performance provokes a change in the social practices of the local community: “because tourism is not always as innocuous and benevolent as destination elites or industry leaders claim it to be, there is a clear need for careful management and planning in the realm of cultural tourism” (Timothy, 2007: xi). The culture of display (exhibition, staging for tourists) is shaped by complex relations of colonization, modernity, and neo-colonialism. Visitors indeed come from wealthier parts of the world to experience traditional culture but promotional campaigns resort to belittling images of Indigenous people that emphasize their difference because of their “natural” state and their primitiveness (d’Hauteserre, 2011; Olsen, 2008). Another trope or representation, for several centuries, of Indigenous peoples was of vanishing races, dying remnants of once vigorous and populous tribes. Images and representations of tourism destinations have been organized into a system whose articulation remains colonial. Western tourism discourse controls the production and dissemination of tourism.

The involvement and the quality of the local leadership as well as its support are vitally important (Samoa is an excellent example); the role of government is to eliminate loopholes that unscrupulous people could take advantage of, and to reduce legislative or regulatory bottlenecks to support local projects. It has no obligation to run tourism enterprises (Epler Wood, 2007), though the government owns hotels on Kiribati and Tuvalu. Local leadership provides regulation to protect natural and cultural diversity through social and environmental audits and ethical tourism (Nowaczek Moran-Cahusac and Fennell, 2007). Ecotourism encourages the creation of enterprises that need minimal financing, especially in islands where infrastructure and varied forms of training at several levels for many aspects of tourism and for their management already exist, as in Wallis and Futuna. The local high school has a hospitality curriculum; regular air service links the territory to New Caledonia and to Fiji; both inhabited islands have good roads, the main ones being asphalted and it is easy to find rental cars (personal observations).

Enacting the development of tourism through the creation of local enterprises in any island or territory is based on personal will and involvement by the local entrepreneurs as well as hard work, as demonstrated by those who have built hotels and other enterprises (in all parts of the French Pacific, but in particular in Wallis and Futuna where tourism development has not been supported by the local authorities), to ensure the success of their investments. Lack of support has not dampened the entrepreneurial spirit of some of the residents of Wallis and Futuna. The question then is: why are they not supported? A characteristic is personal investment as well as links to other community organizations and to the international tourism network (interviews and personal observations, 2001–2014). One of the more recent hotel owners declared:

My in-laws started small, selling bread and small cakes; they then created a small café. Next, they were able to save to build the house in concrete with four rooms to accommodate guests. The family built the house. We now have a separate building with 12 rooms for rent. But it is hard to find customers. (Interview of hotel owner on Wallis, 2009)

A financial subsidy generally enables the starting up of an enterprise or serves as a temporary bridge during economic difficulties. It is not a gift or a form of charity which often undermines personal efforts. A subsidy creates an opportunity; it is not permanent life support, contrarily to the beliefs of many residents of Wallis and Futuna: “unfortunately, the territory or the state put in place projects but there is no follow through. Subsistence living and customary ownership of land do not permit the raising of capital” (interview of an officer in economic development). Independent Samoa demonstrated it following reconstruction after the tsunami of 2010. The government can offer capacity building thanks to training opportunities in managing and developing different kinds of tourism ventures. There is a hospitality stream at the local high school in many of the Pacific Islands. In Wallis and Futuna, however, the owner of one restaurant hires his staff (including the chef) from Fiji because “they are more efficient and hospitable” (interview, 2009). This was the only restaurant that could afford to hire people from outside the territory. Its owner seems to undermine the capacity building of the island. I have to rely on his feelings about the work ethics of his coresidents. I do question his assertion but also give the reasons people there would agree with this owner. The reality is that most young people there who do obtain skills soon migrate to New Caledonia where there are more opportunities. Custom would also force them to share a great part of their earnings with the rest of the family if they remained in the territory (interviews, 2003, 2009).

An illustration: Ecotourism in Wallis and Futuna

A total of 13,500 Polynesians and about 100 French settlers (teachers, administrators, and trades people), most of whom stay only two to four years, live in Wallis and Futuna, one of the least known entities of the South Pacific, so the territory is almost ethnically homogeneous. The population keeps on diminishing as about 100–150 persons per year emigrate, so that 21,300 live overseas, mostly in New Caledonia. Forty-one percent of the population, which is gender balanced, is under 20, but only 40% of the active population have a salaried job. Wages are relatively high for the South Pacific so that GDP per capita, though only one-third of France (€10,000/year), is quite high because also of subsidies from the French state (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2013). The territory is made up of three islands: Wallis and Futuna, which are 2 h apart by airplane and are inhabited, and Alofi, which is used solely for cultivation by residents of Futuna and is visible from Futuna (Figure 1). Remoteness is certainly a major characteristic: access by plane is only through Fiji or New Caledonia for Wallis, from where one can then reach Futuna. It has even been declared that, for Wallis and Futuna, “economic development is impossible” (Tahiti Pacifique, May 2012: 20); the author adds that Wallis, a mere hour away by plane from Fiji, cannot hope to attract many tourists. This is probably why the territory insists on maintaining its status of Territoire d’Outre-Mer (Overseas Territory) and seeks no further autonomy than that accorded in 1961, even though amended in 2004 (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2012). Such a statute guarantees continued financial support by the French state.

According to the contracts signed between the territory and France, the territorial assembly should be responsible for development of the local economy which includes tourism but tourism development has remained a subject of discussion only, since the 1990s (the territory has recognized a potential but has not acted upon it). Tourism development has been included in the plan for the strategic sustainable development of the territory (Plan de Stratégie de Développement Durable de Wallis et Futuna) signed 20 December 2002 and approved by the territory, the French state, and the three kings. So far its recommendations have not been implemented, partly because of the small number of visitors (around 60 per year) and partly for fear of invasion by foreign-owned resorts. One government representative stated that: “the territorial assembly has to discuss the creation of a tourism information center because there is no way today to obtain such information, but it refuses to do so” (interview with the director of the Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2009). The first contract for economic cooperation between Wallis and Futuna and the French state was signed in 2000. The fourth one covers 2012–2016. The contracts assign large projects such as hospitals, schools, access to running water, and roads to the French state. Such investments facilitate tourist movement within and between the islands of the territory but numbers remain tiny.

The local government is in charge of other areas of local economic development, even if the economy is almost nonexistent: 60% of the population practice subsistence living (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2008, 2010, 2012, 2014). Following the recent world financial crisis, which has reduced revenues (in the form of remittances from those who emigrated to New Caledonia or elsewhere), as well as diminished subsidies from the French state, the territorial assembly prefers to support fishing and rural development. It is urging people to return to subsistence agricultural production instead of consuming imported products. It is a worthy cause but diversity of livelihoods help better weather economic crises and offer more support to those who wish to remain in the territory. Whatever form it takes, tourism development depends on local political will in Wallis and Futuna and economic entrepreneurship. There has been, to this day, no real political response to President Logologofalau’s 1986 speech, in particular to his desire for democratic progress via tourism:

The frequency of air service and relays for telephone connections … We are going to welcome tourists, but we want to maintain our identity … Our way of life, the way we respect visitors and our enchanting sites are the basic elements that enable us to trust in a future development of tourism. A tourism we wish to dominate and that will never be invading. Protected but welcoming islands, protected but desirous to become known, may this album stimulate your desire to meet us. We are expecting you. Malo te lagona. (Logologofalau in Angleviel et al. (1994))

The French administrator of Wallis and Futuna (préfet) had helped the territory to participate in a conference in 2008 in Paris for the development of tourism overseas, based on its cultural (kava and religious ceremonies, traditional housing, local legends, historical buildings) and natural assets. The local government did not act on it since it would have had to finance any such initiative. This lack of political will maybe well be due to the fact that “the political class has not changed over the past 30, 40 years; those who might have replaced them have emigrated from the islands” (interview 2009 with the representative of Wallis and Futuna in the French Senate). In Wallis and Futuna, some local residents have invested privately in various tourism enterprises, mostly hotels, but also in a few activities like scuba diving. However, there is no welcoming infrastructure, not even an information center and little help is available at the airport, especially if those who seek it do not speak French. I helped rescue a couple of Italian visitors whose hosts had missed them and left, so they could get to the hotel several kilometers away from the airport. They had come because “we wanted to travel away from normal tourist itineraries, see a diverse marine environment, satisfy a fascination with past images of the Pacific, have an extraordinary experience” (interview, 2009).

The Department of Cultural Affairs is the sole government organization that wants to turn to tourism as a tool of economic growth for the territory because it promises to protect the islands’ cultural heritage and environment. “Wallis seeks to conserve its original state not yet invaded by globalization forces” asserts an officer in that government sector (interviews, 2009). Polynesian culture in Wallis and Futuna as well as Kanak culture in New Caledonia represents an exception to the efforts of the French state to homogenize the nation (as per specific legal provisions enacted after the Matignon Accords of 1988 and the Noumea Accord of 1998—Faberon and Postic, 2004). Polynesian custom has thus continued, relatively unhindered by colonial impositions. But who decides which cultural heritage will continue to be saved and displayed? It is an important question in Wallis and Futuna as tensions prevail today about the future of this heritage and how it should be preserved. The officer continued: “we need to open up to the world so they can discover our culture but ceremonies cannot be commoditized” (interview, 2009).

The local Chamber of Commerce, supported by many of the existing entrepreneurs, has requested a tourism information center for several years (that would inform visitors about accommodation and activities on both islands and hopefully entice more people to come and experience local culture and nature) but the territorial assembly still has not opened the file (literally—interviews, 2003, 2009; Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2013). The Chamber of Commerce supports all forms of development as they wish to create a new area of employment besides retail trade and administration. Since the number of jobs has hardly increased in the last 10 years (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2013, 2014) so that Wallisians and Futunans can hope for few job opportunities locally, Wallis and Futuna, like many other Pacific Island territories, depend on emigration and returning remittances to support their lifestyles. Not every resident, though, wishes to emigrate; and not every family can rely on émigrés’ contributions.

Many of those questioned in Wallis and Futuna recommend the creation of small structures like the ones that already exist there, encouraging a form of “ecotourism” based on the surviving local nature and Polynesian culture: (interviews, 2003, 2009; Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2010, 2014). Salazar (2012: 11) recommends cultural tourism as the best form of community-based tourism, though he recognizes that too often expectations about economic returns are not realistic and tensions arise between modernization and cultural conservation. In Wallis and Futuna customary traditions represent a difference that has outlasted colonization and more recently globalization forces. Even older colonizers than France have left relics which have been restored and can be visited (like the Tongan forts of the 1600s in Wallis; personal observation). No budget had been approved, though, to support most local cultural production skills (interview of an officer in cultural affairs). One government edict is that no building should have more than one floor and traditional housing should be saved to maintain a Polynesian landscape. However, there have been no efforts or incentives to help residents build the traditional way. Western style buildings (in cement, with corrugated iron roofing) can include interior bathrooms; they are easy to maintain; and financial regulations support this type of building (interview of an officer in cultural affairs). Few traditional houses are left in the territory (see Figure 2 for an exception; personal observation).

Figure 2.

A traditional house in Wallis.

Some small efforts are underway to develop the knowledge and skills of local Indigenous women (and to teach them to the younger generations) to provide revenue by selling the products as souvenirs for visitors or for departing French civil servants. Until now, there was little besides postcards (personal observations). Two areas in particular are receiving support: production of scented oil and fabrication of tapa. A machine has been invented to take over the slow and onerous work of beating the bark, which still enables customary production of tapa since one has to apply ancestral knowledge to determine the thickness of the finished product as well as the various steps that follow bark flattening (Figure 3; personal observation; interview of the head of the Center for Development of Arts and Crafts 2009). A center for Wallis and Futuna arts and crafts was opened in Nouméa on 5 April 2013. In Wallis, an oil production unit, “Lolotasi” started production in late 2010 (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2014). The perfumed oil, using flowers specific to the territory (so as not to compete with the production based on the Tiare flower of Tahiti), could be sold through a pan-Pacific commercial network. As observed by Scheyvens “self-esteem of many community members is enhanced [with ecotourism] because of outside recognition of the uniqueness and value of their culture, their natural resources and their traditional knowledge” (1999: 247; Lima, 2008; Sofield, 2003; Weaver, 2010).

Figure 3.

Drying the strips of tapa to create cloths and souvenirs.

Challenges to the development of community ecotourism in Pacific small islands

There are numerous constraints to tourism development in Wallis and Futuna, some of which are general throughout the French Pacific, while others are more specific. First, the French Pacific is not—and has never been—organized as a single tourism destination (ESCAP, 2001; Sigogne, 1922) and within each part of the region there are different uncooperative tourism organizations (including three in French Polynesia—Fenua Economie 2012—interviews of the heads of these organizations 2012; personal observation—and three in New-Caledonia, besides provincial ones), in spite of calls to improve the situation (Skelton, 2007: 138). Cooperation facilitates the diffusion of information: visitors to one part of the French Pacific like New Caledonia could easily add a short visit to Wallis and Futuna if they were aware of its proximity and its touristic assets.

Second, international air transport remains the Achilles heel of the territories. Flight frequencies and seat allotments, and the distribution of airport slots in Paris, London, Los Angeles, Tokyo, or Sydney (the region’s main outbound markets), are considered insufficient by elected officials and tourism professionals (Air Tahiti Nui magazine, 2008; Tahiti Pacifique, June 2012). Consequently, they have invested in locally owned international airlines, to avoid being at the mercy of decisions about flight frequency or service taken elsewhere. The decision has merit, as research confirmed their analysis early on (Vellas and Cauet, 1997: 86), but the ability of these companies to make a profit is much reduced by the small size of the markets and their losses mean more leakages (Tahiti Pacifique, June 2012).

Islands also rely on natural attractions as Logologofolau mentions: “Our lagoon, one of the most beautiful in the world will be protected.” However, contrarily to Logologofolau’s assertion, the lagoon is of little interest because of nonsustainable practices by the local community (and these are visible throughout the French Pacific): siltation and the lack of rare or brightly colored fish are due to soil erosion and fishing with dynamite, over several decades. The beaches around the island of Wallis have disappeared in the past 20 years, as public and customary authorities cannot put a stop to the illegal extraction of sand to decorate gardens or for construction. Other owners use the sand to fill in behind the walls they have built to protect themselves when the lagoon rises. Mangroves too have been greatly reduced but few people feel truly concerned (interviews with the directors of the environmental protection offices 2009 and the head of an environmental protection group). For scuba divers the main attractions are along the exterior reef of Wallis (interview of scuba-diving entrepreneur). An underwater track has been developed in the lagoon in the northern part of Wallis to teach locals about the importance of sustainable use of marine resources. Visitors are welcome to explore it (Interview with director of environmental group). Another enterprise takes visitors to a motu, a small islet on the outside reef which still has beaches. Wallis boasts several lakes too. No budget has been approved, though, to finance the upkeep of natural tourist sites and to fight the encroachment of vegetation and no one has volunteered service (interview with an officer in cultural affairs 2009).

Logologofolau’s speech mentions that Wallis and Futuna, which had long been maintained in a marginal situation (e.g. its inhabitants were not allowed to emigrate until the early 1950s) were no longer isolated by 1986 because new air and other communication links were connecting them to the rest of the world. They could thus consider welcoming tourists. The territory, though, does remain remote, even within the Pacific Basin. The international airport at Hihifo, in the northern part of the island of Wallis can land Airbus 320s and 330s, which provide links across the French Pacific and to Nadi, Fiji. However, Air Calin which exploits these connections acts as a monopoly company so fares tend to be high (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2014). Residents benefit from various types of discounts but not tourists. The Vele runway, in Futuna, which had been an expanse of grass, was cemented and enlarged in 2011 so that it could accept bigger planes which would then fly at night. However, three families who live next to the air strip refuse to move away (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2013). The improvements to the Vele runway would have permitted a direct connection Futuna–Fiji as well as the introduction of a competing airline company (Air Pacific) and hence possibly lower fares.

For some critics, nothing can happen in most Pacific Islands because of customary land tenure. A counterargument is that it ignores local social capital (Baldacchino, 2005; interview with the director of Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2009). The mantra of critics is that no outside enterprise will ever invest on land that it can never own: but developing sustainable ecotourism is to support local participation, not foreign investment. Only two tourism enterprises (out of about a dozen) are owned and managed by Europeans in Wallis and Futuna, but they are married to Indigenous women: scuba diving and one of the two hotels in Futuna. Marriage to local people is necessary to have access to land (interview with hotel owners and other tourism entrepreneurs 2009). The more problematic issue is the lack of privately owned land so that even locals share their plots with other family members. Little land remains to distribute; in Samoa, 81% is customary, in Loyalty Islands, 97% (see Bambridge, 2011 for French Polynesia). In Wallis and Futuna most land is already in the hands of local families, the Catholic Church, or the French administration (interview with the director of Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2009). Some local investors have started businesses but stalled because of customary demands made by members of the family, whether they shared the land or settled elsewhere.

The territory could have hosted a Va’a competition in 2004, boosting its presence on the global market but it was cancelled for lack of political will (interview with a tourism entrepreneur 2009). The question still remains: why are they not supported? Interviewees commented: “If one wants to avoid trouble, in Wallis, it is best not to do anything, not to be enterprising” (interviews of the head of the CCIMA and of a restaurant owner, 2009). It has not dampened the entrepreneurial spirit of some of the residents of Wallis and Futuna. A few local people have built small hotels (nine in all of two to six rooms, one with 12), besides other attractions mentioned earlier. These hotels seem to receive visitors most of whom are representatives of retail brands seeking local distribution or relatives of French civil servants while these last are working in the territory. Other residents would want to build but they often do not have sufficient cash flow. In Wallis and Futuna, public entities have stopped lending or cautioning loans following very negative experiences: not reimbursing the loans had become a local game (interview, 2009 of the head of the Institut d’Emission d’Outremer). Some loans have become available since late 2011 as the level of bad debts had been reduced (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2012).

One of the most vexing problems from the perspective of landscape esthetics but also for sustainability and especially for ecotourism development is waste. Old cars, trucks, and containers are all rusting in various parts of these islands (Figure 4; personal observations). As waste decomposes and corrodes, it represents a problem for the water table that lies close to the surface in the flatter parts of the inhabited islands. Denudation and laterization of the interior reduces rain water retention. Other threats include improper drainage of areas occupied by pigsties, the main source of protein and customary exchanges (interviews of officials, 2009; Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2014). Tourism development could compound the problems of waste disposal and access to fresh water, which in turn can compromise the attractiveness of these islands for “experienced” travelers.

Figure 4.

Waste is very prominent in Wallis and Futuna.

One of the main difficulties when entering the tourism market, though, is that liminality is not so rare: substitution possibilities exist even in the case of remote destinations. The large number and variety of similar destinations (and hence the volume of transferability or substitution possibilities) means severe competition for the same markets. Competition includes not just that of other Pacific islands, described above, or of other “remote” but culturally fascinating destinations in Asia or closer to the main global outbound markets. A number of cultural groups with fascinating traits are building villages to bring their “special” culture to the doorstep of Europe’s and North America’s residents who have then no need to travel to some remote destination to experience exoticism; it enables those so inclined to reduce their carbon imprint. Their numbers are increasing too (http://veilletourisme.ca/2011/02/16/des-offres-touristiques-importees-dailleurs/, accessed 17 February 2011). How much duplication (substitutability) can the market absorb?

The islands in the French Pacific might be promoted as paradise on earth, but not enough people want to experience it since numbers of tourists have been steady or declining over the recent past while visits to other Pacific islands are increasing. Part of the problem may be that locals are not engaging in improving their attractiveness (Gay, 2009). Economically, territories of the French Pacific are very different from other Pacific island countries. While poverty exists, it is considerably less than elsewhere in the Pacific (Abbott and Pollard, 2005). There is an expectation of continued financial assistance: most residents are convinced that the territories are major strategic and emotional assets for France (Mallatrait, 2009). The distribution of subsidies (also in New Caledonia and French Polynesia) seems hardly equitable since 60% of the population still live a subsistence life while public administration (much of it subsidized by the French) provides at least 20% of the territory’s GDP, retailing another 15% and other activities, 5% (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2014).

Subsidies from France or actions by the local government have not lifted the majority of the population in Wallis and Futuna (or of the rest of the French Pacific) from poverty while some of the local residents want to expand the private sector through the creation of tourism enterprises, so they do not need to emigrate to find employment. Subsidies from the French state are not used to respond to the entrepreneurial wishes of local residents, even though territorial authorities have been mandated by the French state to expand the local economy. These last have thus not stimulated local government action to support tourism development (Gay, 2009; Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2013). Some local residents wish to establish ecotourism, even if government members continue to ignore the requests. Local residents supported community-based ecotourism; they rejected foreign-based large resort-hotel development because they had witnessed it in Nouméa and Tahiti and found it inappropriate for their islands (interviews, 2009). No major resort has been built since and few local enterprises created (Institut d’Emission d’Outremer, 2014).

Conclusion

Potential to enchant visitors and to offer them a memorable experience exists in Wallis and Futuna but the territory has wasted opportunities. It is not too late to manage cultural elements but some of the natural environment will take much longer to regain attractiveness. Unsurprisingly, tourism is seen by many as a tool for development, an economic driver that provides employment for people with few skills. This article suggests that local authorities have not supported tourism’s potential in the territory, so it is far from being met. The article does not imply that ecotourism is an economic and environmental panacea (contrarily to Epler Wood, 2007), because as largely discussed in the literature (Hall and Boyd, 2005; Hill and Gale, 2009; Nowaczek et al., 2007; Weaver, 2003) even the most well-planned ecotourism activity will impact on nature and culture. In Wallis and Futuna, some of the residents are willing to create opportunities to avoid emigration but they seek support by the authorities, partly to help promote the territory and partly to legitimize their businesses.

Locals remain emplaced as they are the ones who enact and then live with transformations caused by investments in tourism development. The commitment and quality of the leadership is of great importance to sustain the community’s engagement and enthusiasm and their entrepreneurial will because the size and the population of these islands are tiny. The entrepreneurial pool is too small to support private only promotion and maintenance of its assets. Applying principles of sustainability is one way to enable home-grown ecotourism but there is little political will in Wallis and Futuna so that local entrepreneurs continue to seek handouts to support their initiatives; they would then lose little in case of failure. Some government members fear pressure to build large resorts from foreign investment (interviews, 2009). Local residents too oppose such form of investment. Support for other economic activities like fishing and agriculture diversifies sources of income (but also provides supplies to tourism activities) in both islands. European Union funds, for example, have been made available to improve pig raising (interview, 2009 with the director of agricultural services). Gradual rather than hurried development is the key to success, though development in Wallis and Futuna seems more halted or halting than unhurried.

Ecotourism provides income for the family or the local group that has set up an activity. Some of the more enterprising locals have created small hotels, restaurants, and activities but there is no oversight to ensure the environment is not stressed. Little attention is paid to the loss of cultural assets too. Ecotourism could also offer a few jobs (as in those small restaurants or hotels) since those are rare outside of retail, public service, and public works in Wallis and Futuna. Sustaining the community’s engagement and enthusiasm should be well understood in Wallis and Futuna as per their customary practices which have that very purpose. Tourism (in any form), however, cannot promise revenues to all families of Wallis and Futuna, especially if numbers of visitors remain minuscule because of its remoteness and lack of promotion. Most economic programs also find it difficult to reach the most economically disadvantaged people. The local authorities need to be more transparent about where French subsidies are spent so that more can go to support economic enterprises, in particular in ecotourism, rather than in personal accounts (interviews, 2003, 2009). Policy decisions also facilitate the creation of enterprises and the marketing of the destination. Ecotourism, with proper support to protect the culture and the environment of Wallis and Futuna so they remain attractive, would provide diversification of the economy as well as revenues to those families who prefer to remain on the islands.

Footnotes

Funding

The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The author(s) received financial support for the research for this article from the Fonds Pacifique in 2009 and in the form of contestable grants from the University of Waikato in 2003 and 2009.

Author Biography

Anne-Marie d'Hauteserre is the convenor of the tourism program in the School of Social Sciences at the University of Waikato in New Zealand. Her main research interests are in critical issues raised by the development of tourism or by development based on tourism projects such as the Indigenisation of tourism development in the French Pacific or the urbanisation of the Eastern Paris Basin.

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