Word that a final deal has been reached to save the scenic bluffs at Pupukea-Paumalu above Sunset Beach on the North Shore from proposed development may signal a permanent change in the way "land struggles" are decided in Hawai'i.

From a time when the tension between development and other lifestyles was resolved with confrontation, protest, arrest and even violence, we have come to a point where a different approach seems to work.

Some history:

In the 1970s, Hawai'i saw a series of land struggles that pitted determined but undermanned community advocates against the forces of development and — often — the government itself. What we were seeing in raw street terms was a community deciding how much development it could accept and at what cost.

The list of these struggles is endless, beginning, perhaps, with the unsuccessful effort to prevent development of agricultural land (mostly pig farms) out by Koko Head through the huge battle over development versus preservation on O'ahu's Windward Coast. Along the way there were battles against urban renewal in Chinatown, at Hilo where airport expansion became an issue and even in the waters off Honolulu, where fishing camps were faced with extinction.

Sometimes these matters were resolved by force: Authorities moved in, swept aside the protesters and the next use of the land went ahead as planned. In other cases, the opponents were successful, but only through massive government intervention.

The most famous example of this was the decision by former Gov. George Ariyoshi to use millions in state dollars to buy some 600 acres in Waiahole and Waikane valleys in 1977 to create permanent agricultural and low-key residential subdivisions.

But it is hard to think of an example where preservationists and those who own or control the land came to their own successful conclusion.

That is precisely what has happened in the case of Pupukea-Paumalu. A coalition of determined North Shore residents and supporters from around the state pressed quietly but firmly to find a way to buy the 1,129-acre property — the backdrop to endless surfing photographs and movies — and place it in permanent preservation. There were no angry protests and no confrontations with bulldozers that seemed to be so common in the 1970s. Instead, there was steady fundraising, constant dialogue with the landowner — Japanese firm Obayashi Corp. — and unrelenting pressure to keep this matter before the public eye.

A key to the deal came from an unexpected source: the U.S. Army, which kicked in more than $3 million to keep the land out of development and in place as a buffer zone from existing training areas farther inland.

Not every antidevelopment effort will find the U.S. military as a willing partner, but this illustrates the importance of being open-minded and innovative in looking for partners in such matters.

Will this successful effort serve as model for the future? Who knows? But it is without question that Hawai'i has learned an important lesson in the always-contentious arena of land development. There is such a thing as a win-win situation.

Reach Jerry Burris at jburris@honoluluadvertiser.com.