Politics and disasters: A look back at the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami
Ongoing nationally televised debates along with the posturing for votes in state party caucuses provide a lively backdrop as we mark the fifth anniversary of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami that occurred on March 11, 2011. The devastation in Japan and elsewhere in the Pacific Basin from Alaska to Chile including severe damage to coastal areas in Hawaii should neither be forgotten nor masked by the current political frenzy to find a presidential candidate that can win in November or by other issues we face at home such as rail and homelessness.
I imagine that the fifth anniversary of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami will pass below radar, so to speak. I’ll be surprised to find much coverage in the media. After all, many of us have moved on and would opt not to revisit those incredible scenes of the earthquake (measured at Moment 9.0 Magnitude) shaking Tokyo and other urban areas and the resulting tsunami, which literally swallowed up Japan’s northeastern coastlines and cities such as Sendai. We helplessly witnessed those tragic scenes via live television while being fully aware that damage to our own coastal areas would occur in the early morning hours of Friday, March 11.
But, politics and disasters like the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami make for strange bedfellows. Disasters occur at the most inconvenient times bringing out the best and worst in elected officials. Indeed, the disaster came as an unplanned, wake-up call for the newly formed Abercrombie administration. Fortunately, the governor and his first chief of staff sat with us at the Diamond Head State Emergency Operating Center for two hours on the weekend before his swearing in on the grounds of Iolani Palace. I remember that Saturday morning briefing Gov. Neil Abercrombie on his emergency powers and duties under state statutes. It was a step in the right direction, but, certainly, not enough.
I vividly remember the night of March 10, 2011. The governor arrived about 8 p.m. Most of his cabinet was already there crammed in the small situation room of the Emergency Operating Center, dressed in casual, come-as-you-are attire. Most, if not all, had not yet been confirmed by the Senate. Having a slight edge over his fellow directors, the new director for the department of defense showed up in his Air National Guard flight suit, clueless but was wise enough to keep silent while taking copious notes on the situation, and on me I suppose. (I would be the beneficiary of some of those notes and critique months later shortly before I resigned). This was their first real test and not a drill. How unfair.
The atmosphere in the Birkhimer Tunnel was tense. No one really knew how the governor would react to the developing situation, which included hourly updates and assessments from all levels of government. More importantly, he and everyone else in the Emergency Operating Center had already put in a full day’s work and were now expected to perform at a new operational tempo that demanded timely decision-making and teamwork. The public expects nothing less.
It was a long night but we managed to get through it. Lucky for me the Dems were in from governor to the county mayors. Not only were these elected officials and politicians friendly to each other, they knew how to play nice together. At the mayoral level, Kenoi and Carvalho were superb and made my job a little easier in dealing with our feisty and sometimes volatile, chief of state. This was not always the case among our elected polity in previous disasters. Sometimes their politics and political minions got in the way. But on that night and early next morning, all that was missing was their singing of Kumbaya.
For days and weeks following the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, we labored at getting disaster relief for our affected residents and recovering from damage to our small boat harbors at Haleiwa, Keehi Lagoon, Lahaina, Honokohau, and Kailua-Kona. Sadly, the private sector bore the brunt of damages. This included boats, shoreline homes and condominiums, homes at Napoopoo and South Point, businesses in Kailua-Kona, the King Kamehameha Hotel, and the Kona Village, which closed to rebuild leaving over 260 employees without work. And, let us not forget the anxiety felt here and elsewhere over the concern for radioactive fallout and ocean water contamination caused by the catastrophic meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Reactor site.
Perhaps as we pause on the fifth anniversary to pray for the souls of the 17,000 dead, for the survivors, for a remarkable recovery, and for the resiliency of the Japanese people, we should look at the various candidates on the national and local scale for some clue as to their ability to lead during crises.
Rarely does anyone really question whether or not the candidates have the ability to lead in disasters and, where applicable, war. Neither do we as voters think about what promises the candidates will make or have already made to their political party supporters, campaign sign holders, and to big money donors for key posts and jobs in their administrations. Nor can we imagine at this point in time that the important choices and political appointments the winners will be entitled to make in November will have any impact on earning public trust.
Bad choices can be a liability and a detriment to public safety especially in disasters.
Ed Teixeira served as the Hawaii state civil defense chief from October 1999 to October 2011, a span of twelve years that bridged the tenure of three governors. Ed is a consultant residing in Waimea, Big Island.