When you think of the Greek language, you don’t necessarily think of the Polynesian languages, do you? However, the connection between Greek and the Polynesian languages of the Pacific is a niche topic that sparks the imagination, as it involves ancient Greek seafarers somehow navigating the vast, uncharted expanse of the world’s largest ocean to leave their linguistic mark on the languages of the Polynesian island peoples.

It sounds truly bizarre and unbelievable, and, to an extent, it is, as it continues to be a contested topic among scholars and a very catchy theme for conspiracy-theory lovers. Yet, as is common with captivating historical puzzles, the real story doesn’t lie in the speculation but in the meticulous, often painstaking work of historical linguistics and archaeology, scientific fields that attempt to shed light on such obscure topics.

The epic journey of Polynesian languages

To truly comprehend the peculiar question of Greek and Polynesian linguistic connections, we must first appreciate the profound and distinct history of Polynesian languages in and of themselves. These vibrant tongues, spoken across the South Pacific—from the sun-drenched shores of Hawaii to the rugged landscapes of New Zealand—aren’t isolated linguistic families, despite their geographical isolationism. Rather, they are comprised of a closely related subgroup within the colossal Austronesian language family, one of humanity’s lesser-known but absolutely incredible linguistic families.

There is an academic consensus pertaining to the history of these languages, which cropped up thousands of years ago with the migrations of people out of Southeast Asia. This culminated in the emergence of Proto-Polynesian, the common ancestor language from which languages such as Hawaiian, Maori, Samoan, and Tongan all sprang.

This remarkable geographical expansion was made possible by the ingenious maritime innovations of these people who utilized advanced vessels such as catamarans and outrigger boats, allowing Austronesian peoples to colonize vast oceanic distances between 3000 and 1000 BC at a time when the Classical Period of Ancient Greek antiquity (510 – 323 BC) was far from its emergence. The direct ancestors of the Polynesians are widely believed to be the Neolithic Lapita people, a distinctive group identified by its characteristic pottery, which flourished in Melanesia and Micronesia around 1500 BC.

A map of the broader region of Polynesia in the Pacific Ocean. Credit: Tintazul, World History Encyclopaedia, Public Domain

However, the eastward push of these peoples during the particular timeframe underwent a lengthy pause approximately 1,000 to 1,500 years after reaching Western Polynesia—specifically Fiji, Samoa, and Tonga—at around 900 BC. This extended period of relative isolation acted as a linguistic milestone, allowing Proto-Polynesians to develop their own distinct identity before a second, rapid wave of other groups swept across the East Pacific beginning around 700 AD.

The phonological simplicity of Polynesian languages—characterized by a small number of consonants and only five basic vowels—is so distinctive that linking them to ancient, external influences would require overwhelming evidence. Nonetheless, some people still believe there is a strong connection between these languages and Greek.

Ancient Greek and Polynesian linguistic connections: Do they exist?

Despite the well-documented historical path of Polynesian languages, the intriguing idea of ancient Greek and Polynesian linguistic connections has occasionally surfaced due to certain peculiar similarities between the two families. One notable theory, championed by Nors S. Josephson, emerged with his 1987 work, Greek Linguistic Elements in the Polynesian Languages: (Hellenicum Pacificum).

In his manuscript, he makes mention of the presence of “Greek roots” and “ancient Greek grammatic peculiarities” within Polynesian tongues. His later book, Eine archaisch-griechische Kultur auf der Osterinsel, (An Ancient Greek Culture on Easter Island), published in 1999, went even further, claiming over a thousand Ancient Greek linguistic roots in the language of Easter Island, alongside parallels in grammar, ancient Egyptian and Greek measure units in building, and archaic-Greek origins for traditional music and art.

Josephson claimed there is a clear connection between Classical Greek and Polynesian societies, drawing on what he saw as a series of linguistic and cultural parallels. He made reference to numerous word similarities between Rapa Nui, Hawaiian, and Tahitian languages and Greek. In particular, he pointed to words such as mata (eye/face) to the Greek máti (μάτι). Another example was the word ariki (chief) which was compared to the Greek árchon (άρχων). Even the famous Hawaiian aloha was connected to the Greek agápe (αγάπη), which means love. 

These are obviously only a handful of examples from a longer list found in his manuscript, but his claims went even further, linking Polynesian tiki figures to theós (θεός), Greek for god) and noting that Polynesian grammar, with its use of particles and a dual number, seemed to resemble Ancient Greek. 

In terms of culture, he compared the iconic moai statues to archaic Greek kouroi and suggested that there must have been a shared origin for their musical traditions on both sides.

The Greek language has ancient origins and has had a profound influence on several other languages. Credit: Zde, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0

However, these bold claims have been met with considerable skepticism from the mainstream academic community. Leading linguists, such as Sarah G. Thomason of the University of Pittsburgh, have unequivocally characterized Josephson’s work as “fringe historical works.” The core of the critique lies in a fundamental methodological flaw they believe to be part of these claims: Josephson’s approach, according to Thomason, relies on “nonsystematic typological comparisons” and the proposal of “unidentified substrata” without sufficient supporting linguistic data.

In the rigorous world of historical linguistics, simply detecting superficial resemblances is insufficient; true connections demand systematic sound correspondences and shared innovations, which Josephson’s work reportedly fails to demonstrate, according to critics. Additionally, beyond the linguistic methodology, the sheer historical and geographical realities present an almost insurmountable barrier to ancient direct contact between the Greeks and Polynesians—unless, of course, everything we know of this timeframe is proven inaccurate.

While the ancient Greeks were indeed skilled seafarers, their impressive voyages were largely confined to the Mediterranean, the Black Sea, and parts of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans accessible via established trade routes of the antiquity. Hence, according to mainstream archaeology, there is simply no archaeological or historical evidence to support any connections between the Greeks and Polynesians—no pottery shards, no trade goods, and no shipwrecks to be found.

This suggests that ancient Greek mariners never reached the Pacific Ocean or established contact with Polynesian populations. Furthermore, according to critics of this theory, the intellectual framework of ancient Greek linguistic thought was notably “Greco-centric,” with little interest in comparing their language to distant, unrelated languages of societies that lived on the other side of the world. This inward-looking perspective of the Greeks further diminishes the plausibility of ancient, deep-seated influence from a culture that wasn’t even looking outwards in a comparative linguistic sense, particularly to a part of the world of which they were likely unaware.

The proof of Greek and Polynesian linguistic connections

Nonetheless, while connections between the ancient Greeks and Polynesians remain elusive, a fascinating, albeit much later and indirect link does exist through which Greek linguistic elements were genuinely introduced into Polynesian languages. This occurred in the 19th century, driven by the fervent efforts of Christian missionaries, who attempted to spread Christianity in these far-off lands.

British missionaries, who began their work in the Pacific islands in the 1790s, faced a significant linguistic challenge when translating the Bible into local languages such as Tahitian. Many biblical concepts and words simply had no direct equivalent in the Polynesian vocabulary. Intriguingly, the missionaries chose Hebrew and Greek as sources for these novel words, partly because certain terms from these ancient languages were more easily adaptable to Polynesian phonology and undoubtedly also due to strong religious conviction, which played a powerful role as well, as Greek was the language of the New Testament.

The Tahitian Bible was translated once in 1838 and then served as a foundational text for subsequent translations into other Polynesian languages, such as Samoan and Rarotongan. This led to a diffusion of these borrowed terms across the region, effectively introducing Greek vocabulary to the broader Polynesian region. Obviously, this occurred indirectly, as most of them were translated to Polynesian languages from English versions, which had drawn on numerous original Greek terms found in the New Testament.

These loanwords often referred to foreign biblical concepts, including specific flora, fauna, precious stones, weights, and measures, unknown to the islands prior to the arrival of Christian missionaries to the region. For instance, Samoan ‘ārasi’ for ‘cedar’ and ‘sekeli’ for ‘shekel’ both found their way into the language, derived from the Old Testament’s Hebrew.

British missionaries in the 19th century introduced Biblical Greek terms into Polynesian languages during their efforts to spread Christianity across the Pacific. Credit: Greek Reporter archive

It’s crucial to understand, however, that the majority of these loan words largely remained within their biblical contexts and didn’t fully become integrated into the everyday spoken language of ordinary people. Actually, many of these were later replaced by native terms or subsequent loans from modern languages such as English. Nevertheless, certain words, particularly religious terms or those for concepts that became integrated into daily life, did persist and are still present. Samoan Sātani and Tahitian Tātane for ‘Satan’ are notable examples, as is Tahitian ture for ‘law.’

This phenomenon is a clear example of adstratum influence, a linguistic situation whereby languages influence each other due to cultural contact or proximity rather than a result of a genetic relationship of the people who speak it. It is a modern, culturally driven borrowing, distinctly unrelated to any theory that implies an ancient connection between the Greeks and Polynesians.

Hence, the question of whether there is an actual connection between Ancient Greek and Polynesian languages remains. According to mainstream archaeology, comprehensive evidence does not point to ancient, direct trips between Greece and Polynesia—neither does a forgotten empire or lost civilization that could explain a connection between these two distant parts of the world exist. However, those who subscribe to what many call alternative archeology believe there was some sort of communication between the two parts of the world, despite the fact that there is no clear evidence of this—at least not at this point in time.

Proponents of this theory make a simple yet compelling argument, and it is true that history is full of examples of theories believed to have been impossible—until the emergence of further evidence resulted in the shattering of long-held beliefs. Could the theory that Ancient Greek influenced the Polynesian language family, now considered improbable by mainstream archaeologists, count among these, too? Only time will tell.