“They fear being wrong more than they fear death”: Kupuohi pointed out the fault of patriarchy in Chief of War

Kupuohi, Chief of War
Kupuohi in Chief of War (Image via Apple TV+)

Apple TV+'s Chief of War, which released globally on August 1, 2025, is now heading toward its finale on September 19.

The series is not merely another historical period drama but something more: a representation of the tumultuous years during which the Hawaiian Islands were pulled, by blood and foresight, towards unification.

Set against the backdrop of conflict of chiefs, rivalries, and contending aspirations for the kingdom's future, the series gives space to voices contesting existing structures. Among them is Kupuohi, who asserts herself as a woman who confronts patriarchy straight in the eye and names it what it is.


Kupuohi's comment about patriarchy in the Chief of War

Kupuohi in Chief of War (Image via Apple TV+)
Kupuohi in Chief of War (Image via Apple TV+)

Kupuohi delivers, halfway through the series, a phrase which may endure beyond the episodes themselves:

“Men train their whole lives to be warriors but they fear being wrong more than they fear death.”

It's one of those pointed remarks that gets you to sit up straighter, not only because it encapsulates the show's wider critique but also because it is true. Beneath the warpaint and decorated headgear, the chiefs' secret weakness is not spears or muskets but embarrassment and the fear of having to admit that they were wrong.

Pride is a more lethal force than steel in the Chief of War.

The show uses her insight to illuminate what drives the island wars in the first place. The male leaders, armed with strength and bound by codes of honor, find themselves trapped in their own bravado. Vulnerability is not an option; retreat is unthinkable; the result is devastation.

Co-creators Jason Momoa and Thomas Paʻa Sibbett have presented Kupuohi as more than a mere observer. Once a war chiefess, she has earned the right to speak and put stock in peace and diplomacy as a conscious counterbalance to the testosterone-fueled protocols of men.

Take Episode 6 of the Chief of War, The Splintered Paddle. After violent brawling between factions, Kupuohi tries to appeal for a truce with Keōua, one of the most stubborn and violent chiefs. Her appeal is rejected; of course, patriarchy would have it no other way. But the point is made.

To compromise, to yield, is seen as a sign of weakness; to continue fighting even foolishly is a symbol of honor. Chief of War Episode 7 sees the price of this refusal, as the vision of unity crumbles in the face of men who cannot forego their dignity. Her warning was already given, but the price had not yet been collected.


The fault of patriarchy in the Chief of War

Chief of War (Image via Apple TV+)
Chief of War (Image via Apple TV+)

The show, in the course of its episodes, winds up as a catalogue of the flaws of patriarchy; not in theory but in practice, scene by scene. The episodes reveal how codes of male honour and dominance, going unchallenged, push the islands nearer to disaster.

Episode 2: Kamehameha and Keōua, orbiting one another like sharks, reveal what male rivalry looks like when diplomatic maneuvering is deemed disgraceful. Neither man will yield, so they press for blood. The wars break out not because they should, but because they are unwilling to risk appearing less.

Episode 4: Keōua, in a tantrum disguised as strategy, sets Kamehameha's food stores ablaze. Brilliant scheme? Hardly. It is more of a tantrum than a strategy, sentencing one's own people to starvation and prolonging the war. It's a pride policy, and the islands pay the price. Kupuohi's frustration with the Chief of War's men comes across as almost modern: why starve the people to make a point?

Episode 5: The revelry in warrior masculinity reaches a frenzy. Men flex, battle, and party while women's viewpoints are pushed aside. Warnings of the outside world are disregarded. Bonding among men is yet another cage, enforcing the perception that to question is to betray. (If it feels a little like a locker room, that’s the point.)

Episode 6: Kupuohi presents Keōua the hand of peace again. Once more, he ignores it. Compromise in his universe is weakness, and weakness is death. His decision binds everyone again in war. It is the very blindness she had already given a name: better to die than yield to having been wrong.

Episode 7: The toll mounts. Alliances fracture, sacrifices are demanded, betrayals creep in. Kupuohi risks herself with a warning cry, a woman willing to do what the men cannot. Yet the same codes of loyalty and honor, the same patriarchal gravity, make peace nearly impossible.

Episode 8: A male chief grasps at power, not willing to delegate for fear of appearing weakened. The delay wastes time, and the time wastes life. The war breaks out, lives are unnecessarily lost, and the patriarchy once again shows how it cares more about appearance than survival.


Also read: You can’t deny Kupuohi and Ka’ahumanu are the definition of silent power in Chief of War

Edited by Nimisha