When the world goes to war: In Marshall Islands, the impact of global conflicts in evident on the fishing table

Microwaves By Jack Niedenthal

Majuro—Living in a small island country teaches you very quickly that geographic isolation does not mean economic isolation. Here in the Marshall Islands, we may be thousands of miles from the conflicts and crises that dominate the world's headlines, but we are remarkably close to their economic consequences.

An oil crisis, a pandemic, a disruption in international shipping or a war on the other side of the world can reach our shores with a surprising amount of speed—and because our economy is remote and heavily dependent on imports, we often feel the impact more severely than countries with much larger and more diverse economies.

Wars are perhaps the best example. When Russia invaded Ukraine or when conflict erupts in the Middle East and threatens important shipping routes, the Marshall Islands is obviously not involved in the fighting. We did not cause these conflicts; we have no influence over the decisions being made and we live thousands of miles from the nearest battlefield.

Yet eventually those wars arrive here anyway. They do not arrive with soldiers or bombs. They arrive at the gas station, on our electric bills, on the shelves of our grocery stores and in the cost of almost everything we buy.

Almost everything we use in the Marshall Islands has to travel a very long distance to reach us. Walk through any store in Majuro and look at what is on the shelves. The rice, flour, canned goods, frozen chicken, appliances, clothing and building materials were produced somewhere else. The gasoline and diesel that power our cars, boats, and generators come from elsewhere.

This is simply the economic reality of living on small, remote islands. We cannot manufacture automobiles or refrigerators. We do not have oil fields or large agricultural areas capable of supplying all of our food. Climate, soil conditions, geography and the limited amount of land available to us impose limitations that cannot simply be overcome by government policy.

• 

• 

• 

International trade is therefore not some abstract economic concept for the Marshall Islands. It is literally how we survive.

When a major war disrupts that international system, the effects begin to work their way toward us. Oil prices rise because markets are worried about supply. Shipping companies pay more for fuel and insurance. Commodity prices increase. Eventually those additional costs are passed from one business to another until they reach the consumer.

At the end of that long economic chain is a Marshallese family in Majuro, Ebeye or one of our outer islands trying to buy food. That family may never know why a bag of rice costs more this month than it did six months ago. They simply know that the same amount of money no longer buys as much food. This is where international geopolitics suddenly becomes very personal.

Having worked in both the government and the private sector here, I have repeatedly seen how difficult it is for a small country to respond to external economic shocks. When inflation hits the United States, Europe or another large economy, people certainly suffer. But those countries also have enormous economic resources. Governments can subsidize energy, adjust taxes, provide assistance to families or release strategic petroleum reserves. Large countries also manufacture many of their own products and produce substantial amounts of their own food and energy.

We have far fewer options. If the international fuel price increases dramatically, we must buy it at the new price. And the increase does not stop at the gas pump. Ships bringing our food pay more for fuel, businesses pay higher freight costs, fishermen pay more to operate their boats and electricity and transportation become more expensive.

ADVERTISEMENT

For our outer islands, the problem is compounded because goods often must make another journey after arriving in Majuro. Getting a product to Majuro is one thing; getting it to a family living hundreds of miles away on an outer island is something else entirely. The greatest burden inevitably falls upon families who have the least ability to absorb it.

Our people have spent much of the last century living with the consequences of decisions made by much larger countries thousands of miles away.

During World War II, these islands became a battlefield between Japan and the United States. After the war, Bikini and Enewetak became sites for the United States’ nuclear weapons testing program. The Marshallese people did not create the geopolitical struggles that brought those events to our shores, but we certainly lived with the consequences.

History has taught us that decisions made by powerful countries have a remarkable ability to reach small islands. Today those consequences are usually economic rather than military, but the underlying problem is much the same: the people with the least influence over global decisions can sometimes be among those most vulnerable to their consequences.

The Marshall Islands must continue working toward greater economic resilience. We need to produce more food locally wherever practical and continue moving toward renewable energy so that every international oil crisis does not automatically become a Marshall Islands economic crisis.

We need better infrastructure, more efficient transportation and policies that encourage businesses that keep more money circulating within our own economy. We will never eliminate our dependence on imports—geography has already made that decision for us—but we can make ourselves less vulnerable.

At the same time, larger countries should understand that when they go to war, they are not the only ones who bear the cost.

Every time the international economy is shaken by another major conflict, eventually the economic waves reach our shores.

And when you live on small islands in the middle of a very large ocean, those waves can hit much harder than the rest of the world realizes.

Jack Niedenthal is the former secretary of Health Services for the Marshall Islands, where he has lived and worked for 43 years. He is the author of “For the Good of Mankind: An Oral History of the People of Bikini” and president of Microwave Films, which has produced six award-winning feature films in the Marshallese language. Send feedback to jackniedenthal@gmail.com

Subscribe to

our digital

monthly issue