Why Celebrate Waitangi

“Waitangi is arguably the most powerful national symbol we have,” says Haare Williams who has seen changes occur during our collective and separate hikoi to and from that holy shrine.” 

“It’s business as usual. Welcome to Waitangi 2014”, a remark by Te Tii Marae elder, Kingi Taurua when, as the governor general walked past, a smart in the crowd yelled, “Cut his head off!” 

The usual suspects were there.  Titewhai Harawira arm linked with John Key and later with David Cunliffe.  No leader was safe without the tempest of Te Tii Marae especially on the 6 February.

Waitangi Day is a time once more to remind us as a nation of the hikoi we have shared on the road to and from Waitangi; a road sometimes pocked with muddied potholes.  We celebrate how far we have come. Our country has changed more than most realise.  It’s not just about recognition of Maori rights. Maori culture is today beginning to influence mainstream society.   Maori words and phrases are used meaningfully in common discourse. The powhiri to welcome a new start or new staff is now a part of corporate life in New Zealand. 

We have the opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with our nation’s history.  Certainly a time to rejoice that we have endured one hundred and seventy-four years of trial, challenge, and change. 

At the core of our society are two fundamental cultures; Maori and Pakeha who between them are now forging a third culture, one which embraces the principle of two cultures; Maori as the first settlers (Tangata Whenua) and Pakeha as second (Tangata Tiriti), who between them are creating an emerging new ‘New Zealand culture’, in which both tikanga Maori and tikanga Pakeha are respected, accepted, and protected for their separate but complimentary values. This hybrid culture recognizes Maori values and British traditions as embodied in the promise of Te Tiriti o Waitangi-The Treaty of Waitangi but flexible enough to allow later cultures such as Pacifica and other strands as we develop the increasingly rich diversity of a multicultural New Zealand. Now that’s something we can all celebrate.

Today we see signs to celebrate indications for me anyway, that reconciliation and forgiveness can occur and that in the work of the Waitangi Tribunal we can reconcile differences and pave the way for healing wounds, and past recriminations.

A cloudless, blisteringly hot day, Waitangi 6 February 1840. Some five hundred people are gathered before the British resident’s House. Royal Navy ship The Herald riding a swell ….   waka taua too … Hobson is escorted ashore.

Another cloudless, blue, blisteringly hot day, Waitangi 6 1990. The RNZN Ship The Canterbury riding a swell … waka taua … HM Queen Elizabeth II is escorted ashore …

One of the most moving statements about what the Treaty of Waitangi mean for Maori and for New Zealand came out of Waitangi in 1990.  The Anglican Bishop of Aotearoa, Rt Rev Whakahuihui Vercoe made a short speech which was directed at the Queen who was present with government members.  He began with psalm 137, with ‘Waitangi’ replacing ‘Babylon’ of the original:

I te taha o nga wai o Waitangi, noho ana tatau i reira

A, e tangi ana tatau kia mahara ki a Hiro

When he stepped up, the level of protest went up too,“… and so I come to the waters of Waitangi to weep for what could have been a unique document in the history of indigenous people against Pakeha domination and I still have the hope that we can do it.  Let us sit and listen to one another.  Some of us come here to celebrate, some to commemorate, some come to commiserate, but some to remember what (pause) … our tipuna said on this ground: that the treaty was a compact between two people.  But since the signing, I want to remind our partners that you have marginalised us.  You have not honoured the treaty.  We have not honoured each other in the promises made.  Vercoe spoke with utter sincerity, conviction and humanity.  The content of the speech was unexpected.  At the end of the speech there was utter silence, the ultimate tribute by the protestors for Vercoe with varying emotions apparent on those present.  For some it was a reminder to understand the past and to meet the obligations set out in the treaty, while others were aghast that, yet again the ceremony at Waitangi had been politicised, at least as they saw it in the presence of the Queen. At the end of the speech, Te Aupouri kuia Sana Murray stood, clapped and sang everyone joined as one with, “By the waters of Babylon …”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem
   

We are today forging a richer nation as we continue the Hikoi to and from Waitangi.  Haere mai e hoa ma.

Rumus Thompson-Jackson

Haare Williams describes a chance meeting with a ‘street kaumatua’ as the illuminating shafts of light through the trees that shone across Grafton Gully on Waitangi Day 2014.   

Rumus at Grafton Gully Cemetery

It's Wednesday 13 February, seven days and 174 years on since Hobson witnessed the signing of the treaty at Waitangi.  It's a warm mid-summer, afternoon sun, a time to reflect our nation's history and future.  Yes, it’s that time again to celebrate our past as we place the foundations for a vibrant modern city and  future.

I came here to The Grafton Bridge Cemetery to honour probably the nation's most iconic figure in our short history; "Captain William Hobson, Lieutenant Governor, 1840-1842."  But I wasn't alone because as I turned, I was greeted by a calm and gravelly voice, "Ko Remus ahau - Remus Thompson-Jackson taku ingoa, no Tainui."  Surprised, but not unexpected.

We shared a short karakia with Hobson, then silence.  When he opened his eyes and mouth I was immediately drawn to the poet in him.  He told me of his whakapapa to Kukutai, a noble whanau of his Waiuku and Te Awhitu homelands, a descendant therefore of the thirty-two, the only signatories of the English version at Waiuku. A rare distinction.

In Auckland, the treaty was signed in five (or six) places, the first on 4 March 1840 at Karaka Bay along the shoreline between Tamaki River and Howick (Maraetai).  The last at Waiuku (near the Waikato Heads) on 11 April 1840 by thirty-two rangatira of Ngati Paoa, Ngati Maru, Ngati Tipa, Ngati Pou and Ngati Tamatera (possibly Ngai Tai and Ngati Te Ata) and countersigned by Captain Nia and missionaries Henry Williams and William Fairburn.

We were both meant to be here.  His face was engraved by layered narratives from the streets that he has walked and by his own admission, himself a street kid at seventy something.  His wiry beard framed a face that spoke with wit, a poetic vision and empathy.

He spoke on decorously, "Heke knew what these tauiwi (strangers) wanted; Land.  Heke and other rangatira wanted protection of their lands.  But they were spurred on by the spirit of building a new colony.  Te Apihai Te Kawau of Ngati Whatua wanted the same by giving a huge koha of land to build a city and the start of a new settlement."

"Don't forget." I said, "No I won't."

"Maori were sailors, whalers, boat builders, farmers, traders and business people.  You should know they beat them at their own game." He then took a long breath.

This is a waahi tapu, e hoa.  It needs tenderness and aroha.  It lacks that human touch."

"Pakeha people, they don't care for their mate (dead); nor about their tupuna (ancestors), and they talk without stop about love for te tai ao (the environment).  No!  We, Maori are the ones who suffered the cost of environmental damage; we're still paying the price.  Ae! Ko te tangata te utu mo te hara o te tangata."

"Ko to ratau atua ko te moni ke." Money.  That's the Pakeha god.  Just look at this place. It's nothing more than a toilet."

He spoke. I tried to edge a word.  He, as I was deeply shocked by the stressful look of Hobson's resting place in a forgotten nothingness.  A man revered then and now by Maori as a rangatira.

The site is littered with rubbish, some damaged headstones, a veritable rubbish dump, and unkempt trees hidden away so that the city without eyes, ears and or a heart cannot see.  His voice rises and falls, sometimes into a whisper.

"This 'Mighty-Big-Super-City Council', will it be the most liveable in the world.  What about the residents of this holy waahi tapu."

We were there for probably an hour, maybe more.  It seemed like an eternity.  Yet a crisp flash of wisdom from this luminary who has walked his city.  Before I left, he nudged me to recite a karakia and asked for “Whakaaria Mai” (Amazing Grace) for Hobson, this waahi tapu, for our youth and for the indifference of a city for those who rest here.

We embraced in a hongi, and as we parted I said, "Thank you your amazing grace." He nodded and smiled.

I looked back to wave and catch is eye, but he was sitting beside Hobson in an animated expressiveness and quite likely apologising for the sins and omissions of the great city he founded.  Again I saw a poet who did not lack nuance or faith in his words.  He struck me as angry, yes but rich, feisty and compassionate.  Hobson's remains lie here in a forgotten nothingness, where then is the noble patrimony of our church, state, local and communities leaders. 

I know I met a poet who sees a city desperate for happiness, a kind epiphany in his eyes and words denouncing an "... uncaring city."  Is this retribution for having the vision and courage to build Auckland?  No!  Remus Thompson-Jackson was a lonely voice for hope. We share William Hobson’s hope.

" He iwi kotahi tatau; we are one people."

  (Hobson Waitangi 6 February 1840)

Hei kona mai.  

OUR PLACE AND STORY

UNDER EVERY ROCK  A STORY

He aha te hau e wawara mai

He raki nana i a mai te pupu-tarakihi ki uta 

I tu ai te pou whakairo ki Waitemata

What is this wind that disturbs me tis The North Wind

That brings good and bad to Waitemata

Ah, my vision

(Titahi's prophesy)

  

Ngati Whatua kaumatua Te Puna Danny Tumahai once told us, "... protect the past by preserving the best of the present to guide the future."

Centuries old stories abound everywhere we look; on the summits of mountains, waterways and headlands, and under every rock along and in the habour, each weaving a tapestry that hold meaning.

My advice, unlock that wealth of information by working with place names across Tamaki Makaurau-Auckland.  It isn't surprising that Aucklanders know little or are indifferent to the richness that can be readily grasped around the isthmus.  For a start, names are like pneumonic reminders that recall precise details of family and tribal whakapapa (genealogical histories).  They are like road signs that show us where we have been and where we are going.  

There is so much value in the work of local iwi of Ngati Whatua, Tainui and Ngati Paoa to reclaim and preserve old names that  could easily have become obsolete through lack of usage or understanding.  Auckland possesses a rich heritage that can easily be untapped.  To do less is to betray generations to come.  Te Reo is slowly regaining a former life, so I therefore commend place names as a starting point for the learner.  These names are not vestiges of the past but each throbs with the vibrancy of a heart.

This knowledge would open up another world for Aucklanders if they could hear and know about Te Pane-o-Horowai (St Helliers), Mataaho (volcano deity), Te Hororoa (Pt Britomart), or Te Ara Whakatekateka a Ruarangi (Meola Reef), now how about the green-eyed fish of Poutini that came to Waitemata, names that echo of our origins.

Kupe was our earliest known ocean going navigator who left many names that defined our coast-line that became critical signs for the navigators who followed in his wake.  Kupe took back with him the prized greenstone.  This important find was quickly identified as Poutini the spiritual home of pounamu along the Arahura River.  Maps came later, much later with Abel Tasman, James Cook and Marion du Fresne.

Early waka sailors followed the stars, whales and birds yes, but they also followed 'sign posts' along the coastline, mountains and rivers adding their own narratives to an overlay of stories. Sailings to Aotearoa were no mere accident.  These were planned over generations of aggregated knowledge, skills, experience and sheer guts and intuition; prodigious journeys of the mind, spirit and body.

This week Aucklanders were welcomed aboard The Sarah Gifford, a restored flat-bottom scow for a trip around Waitemata to experience something of the richness of Maori place names and the Maori language.

A short welcome, a karakia, mihi and a waiata, then the two names our city: Tamaki Makaurau (place of many lovers) and Auckland (Lord Auckland).  Two stories that resonated with manuhiri (guests) were,  'Patupaearehe and The Harbour Bridge', and the other, 'Mataaho-the fiery keeper of volcanoes'.       

What our guests experienced during two sailings was the richness of both languages, English and Maori in stories so redolent with episodes of our city's ancient and recent past.  

Names therefore carry knowledge and power in the spoken word.  The speaker (male or female) used the mana of a living taonga (heirloom).  The spoken word is held sacred because through it the wisdom of the ancestors is presented and communicated and made objective in our world.  A single word or name is there for the transfer of knowledge. 

Tamaki Makaurau, Nga Tapuwae, Ihumatao, Te Pane-o-Horowai, Te Hororoa, Rangitoto, Toangaroa, Pukekawa, Motu Tapu and so on around a glistening harbour to Te Ara Whakatekateka-a-Ruarangi.   

Our guests had fun spotting and matching names to the landscape and by weaving these lyrical and poetic names around their tongues and having a laugh doing it together.

Maori Language Week when it closed on Sunday should not stop there.  I commend the taonga of language to you.  Haere mai ki Tamaki Makaurau.

A nation that understands and accepts its holiness, is a nation blessed.

Haare Williams 9 July 2013

White Lies Tuakiri Huna

Speaking te reo was a prerequisite for early settlers here for reasons of survival and security. And as well to establish rapport with tangata whenua laying the foundations for trade and commerce as Maori quickly adapted into the spirit of building the new colony.  Speaking English came quickly to tangata whenua and in the 1820s and 1830s Church mission schools flourished with translations of The Bible. But by the 1930s, instruction in schools was solely in English with te reo banished (almost) to extinction as a colonial relic.

Here again in the start of another Te Wiki o Te Reo, we celebrate through Maori Language Week a taonga (national treasure) and what better way to kick start it with the movie ‘White Lies’.  This movie does that.  If nothing else - te reo is given the power it deserves in snapshots of Ringatu karakia, waiata tawhito (ancient songs), conversational English and Maori which flow regally together owing as much to the skill of Whirimako Black who brings the richness of her lines and character into a natural blend of languages together with a balance of wit and humour. This congruency, I am sure sat well with a responsive audience.  A celebration too through Ringatu, the church founded by Te Kooti and the easy-to-read subtitles.


I went along with a colleague and friend Karena from The Voyager Museum and tread the red-carpet for the premier of ‘White Lies’.  I noted her occasional sniff and sob and the raising of her hand (Ringatu) for moments in praise of God.  It was, for us a rare chance to meet the players and Author Witi Ihimaera (DCNZ, QSM) with his Gisborne family along with Tuhoe supporters.

This is a story that resonated with me around the Tuhoe struggle for survival.  It opened with a prelude in karakia, mihi, and a brief comment by Ihimaera.

 

Powerhouse acting by three women; Whirimako Black in her debut role as Paraiti will arguably put her up as one of our premier screen actors; gentle, warm, compelling and humane.  Maraea is played by Rachel House also brilliant who, with Rebecca, played by Antonia Prebble is a wealthy young wife with a secret; three very different portrayals that bring a sharp contrast to the screen. Paraiiti is a natural winner.  

The other winner is Alun Bolinger (NZOM) cinematographer who brings this movie together in breathtaking scenes that take us into quintessential Urewera in its spiritual overlay of people ancestors, and land set against a misty landscape merging seamlessly with Ihi, (challenging and spine tingling), wehi (awesomeness, inspiring), wana (artistry, beauty,  rhythm to behold, inner glow), and mana (authority from the ancestors).

“I suffered from a respiratory sickness and the medicine of Te Urewera cured me of that the inspiration came from her,” Ihimaera told us before the start of the movie.

This is a portrayal of a head-on clash of beliefs, deception, and ultimate salvation.                         

A modest kuia living in Te Teko who, in real life played out episodes as a nurse, mid-wife, life-giver, sometimes on horseback with a dog; Putiputi O’Brien is a living legend.  As well, I recall vividly stories from my grandmother Wairemana (granddaughter of Tutakangahau of Te Urewera) telling in graphic detail of the devastation of her Tuhoe people who like other iwi were caught up in a time of dislocation and upheavels in a changing world.  As a child, I heard of torched buildings, the destruction of crops and fruit trees, guns smashed, and left only with old horses.  Police Commissioner, John Cullen with ninety-nine fully armed and mounted police on Sunday 2 April 1916, crushed a peaceful village with violence with the deaths of two men; Toko Kenana and, Te Maipi.  Wairemana told me, she and her whanau moved out of their cherished kainga forced out by poverty through the pandemic and tortuous blitzes inflicted upon them by Crown authority.  I commend this movie to you all.  Says Karena,

“You must see this movie! It has everything; beautiful cinematography; stunning acting; a potent, powerful story.  The subtitles are more than just helping you to understand what is being said. They make a statement about a comprehensive effort to destroy a culture and people through outlawing their language.”  (Karen Walters)

 

Against this backdrop, you may recall that *The Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907 outlawed any practice of Maori medicine. This story also explores deep seated dilemmas in New Zealand; questions of identity, societal attitudes, the roles of women, and as well the tensions between western and traditional practices that still exist. The third winner is te reo.

Ihimaera opened the movie with a mihi to an expectant audience and ended to a spontaneous applause, many dabbing away tears and sitting through to the end of the credits roll.

Director Dana Rothberg, Writer John Barnett, Camera Alun Bollinger.

Haare Williams 26 June 2013

* An Act of Parliament intended to stop people using traditional healing practices which had a spiritual or supernatural element.  It was repealed in 1985.  Rua Kenana, of Tuhoe was the target of this Act.

Te Reo Survives in a Holstile Place

Haare Williams responds to the question, “Do I have to speak te reo?”  He says, “No.  But, like learning another language, it helps to develop important relationships with people you want to be with”.

To say, ‘I love words’, is to say, ‘I love people.’  From words and from people you learn and grow.  Other people give you words in a delightful way, so you use words.  Words capture the essence of what another is thinking.  He and She love words too.

From earliest contacts, Pakeha settlers had to quickly learn te reo for reasons of security, survival and for building firm foundations with tangata whenua. 

By the 1820s and 30s, The Bible translated became a tool for ‘education’ amongst Maori.  The potency of literacy was seen as some kind of magic.  As early as 1832, missionaries estimated that literacy amongst Maori at around 30 precent was quickly catching up with that of settlers at 48%.  By 1835, our two nations entered the spirit of a treaty declaration to build a new colony together, one in which two languages confirmed status and equality. 

As a kid who grew up without English, yet quickly learned to love new sounds and rhythms.  I grew up under the spell of the spoken word, in the Bible, on the marae, in waiata and whai korero, and in old Tuhoe manuscripts I read to grandparents Rimaha and Wairemana.  I knew that the spoken word was sacred to them because through it the wisdom of my ancestors is preserved and communicated. 

I learned that words captured the elegance, the beauty and power of thought.  That speech is an act of rebirth bringing the past into the present.  Words can calm, cajole, or they can inflame with wrath.  I learned that words will always carry wit, wisdom and intelligence. 

Throughout Maoridom the spoken word is held sacred because through it the wisdom of the ancestors is preserved and communicated; therefore oratory is revered, admired, to be protected (tapu).  An orator’s task is to catch the elegance, the beauty, the power of thought and make it objective in our world.


Words are about people – you can’t talk to yourself.


The Waitangi Tribunal has found that the Crown has breached the principles of the Treaty, and
that Te Reo has suffered severe prejudice as a result of the Crown’s actions and omissions.

 Our cultures are intimately interwoven with language into our landscape.  Our schools curricular, the media, government institutions are not merely acknowledging te reo, but using it meaningfully. There are many cultural crossovers in language and life styles. Maori idioms are being translated into English and used sensitively.  Maori words are used increasingly in common discourse.  Some words sit easily with Pakeha ideas, others add a different dimension in discourse; and yet there are ideas which may be better in dealing with some of the ills in our society such as dealing with dying, death, grief and healing.  But, relative judgement is unimportant compared to a willingness to acknowledge and accept difference. 

I asked a group, “Why are you learning te reo?

 “… It’s the official language of Aotearoa New Zealand.”

“Learning te reo is my way of redressing some of the cruel treatment te reo has received at the hands of the education system.”

“… it’s the key that enables me to reflect on our bicultural heritage and origins.”

 “… its a way to be a better informed New Zealander; knowing who I am as a new settler here and gaining insights into the history of my new country.”

 “… it’s my way to thank people who are bilingual, which shows us a way to understanding biculturalism and multiculturalism.”

“… what I wanted to do; I didn’t really believe that I would get the chance to learn te reo.”

 “… it’s to do with respect for te reo, leadership and setting a model for all staff to follow.”

“… it’s a beautiful language.”

 “Learning te reo gives me a sense of the sacred about our land; ‘tangata whenua – people of the land’.”

“The opportunity to learn te reo empowers me as a New Zealander living in this unique cultural, natural and historical setting within a thriving and dynamic society.”

 “… it helps me understand things and hopefully be a better informed New Zealander.  I’m from Canada.”

Sadly, many Pakeha New Zealanders still see Te Reo of no use, language as strictly utilitarian – like a spade or a cash register.  They claim that they should learn Japanese, Chinese, French, German or some other language they can do business in.

 My point is that young New Zealanders would be able to learn those languages with more enthusiasm and facility were they given the opportunity to grow up working comfortably in English and Maori.  There has existed a kind of linguistic imperialism in New Zealand.  This is much more dangerous that economic domination because our Te Reo is our soul.

Are we missing the opportunity to make coming generations of New Zealanders multilingual by not using language successfully taught in Kohanga Reo (Te Reo nests) techniques to teach resurgent Maori to all pupils in primary schools?  With the knowledge of two languages New Zealanders would more readily learn another and other languages.  A subsidiary spin off would be a richer texture of our cultures, with more stories available from Maori sources and an expanded consciousness with echoes of meaning from a plethora of Maori words and names.

Education is structurally transforming and emancipating. Wananga provided second chance education at tertiary level and provide iwi with an education that met local, cultural and Te Reo interests.  It isn’t just language at risk here, but personal identity.  This cycle of alienation, as we have seen in intergenerational, cultural deprivation is difficult to break and costly to maintain.

There is little doubt that New Zealanders possess an important literary heritage in karakia (ritual chants), tauparapara (watch alarms), waiata (song poetry), karanga (keening calls), oriori (lullaby), and others whose verbal and imaginative power, control and rhythmic strength make them formidable rivals for English prose and verse.  The integration of these notions into the New Zealand poetic tradition means a considerable enrichment of dual traditions.

What we are talking about here is unity in difference. I do not ask you abandon your convictions, nor ideologies, but neither do I have any intention of being hemmed in by my values. That would result in intellectual impoverishment, for it would mean rejecting a powerful source of development – the exchange of everything original and rich that each of us has, as vibrant nation independently created. Today I see a paradigm shift that is encouraging.  A Japanese scholar learning Te Reo once told me, “To be monolingual is to know only one universe.”  There are today about 68,000 non-Maori learning te reo.  I commend the taonga (the jewel of the soul) of Te Reo beyond Maori Language Week. 

Kia kaha, kai toa, kia maia, kia manawanui, kia mataara.  (be strong, be a champion, show resolve, stay the journey, be awake).

 

So, when you are learning, try something new. Try listening. And speaking.

Not the Price

Haare Williams of Tuhoe believes that this week we saw the emergence of a hero, the Land Rights Negotiator, Tamati Kruger whose temperate approach has inspired a nation …

Tamati Kruger - APN Media

Ko te tangata whai i nga tipu o te ora, koina te tohu Mana Motuhake

This week our nation saw a hero emerge in the stature of Tamati Kruger, the Tuhoe Land Rights Negotiator.  He will be remembered like Parekura Horomia, for his assertive but temperate approach in the face of a long and protracted trail of betrayal by the state.  A month ago, I asked Kruger, “What’s the price of Settlement?”  His reply was quick but calm, “… not the price but the cost?”

“Heroes don’t live forever, but those who live without trying are forgotten.”

On a chilly Saturday morning July 24 1991, Te Whakatohea and Ngati Awa, including Wairemana Taia, great grand-daughter of Mokomoko assembled at Waiaua Marae (Opotiki) to hear Sir Douglas Graham as Minister of Justice.  It was one of the most moving moments of the post-colonial era as the minister presented the Mokomoko tribe with the deed of official pardon.  In Te Kooti and Rua Kenana we heard negative (Pakeha) constructs of Tuhoe as dissidents, who provided sanctuary for criminals in the Urewera canopy of bush, mountains and mist.

“Sorry.”  Saying that word to a parent, a sibling, a wife, a friend, a people or a nation is emancipatory.  And what about saying “Sorry”, to nature.  Yet for some, it is one of the hardest things to do.

For many, there is a problem.  For some, it is in the giving; they cannot handle it.  For others, it is the receiving.  They cannot accept it.  What about you?  We all know that apologies can heal yet no one seems prepared to put up a hand and start.  We live in a society that is prone to blame rather than take responsibility for our actions.  Actions that hurt another.  Pride too gets in the way, but sooner or later we all do something that hurt another.

Apologising is probably the healthiest, most cleansing of actions we can ever make.  So take a deep breath, phone mum, dad, a friend someone you have avoided for some time and simply say, “Sorry Mum,” I know of four where these simple words have changed their lives forever.  Confession is a charade unless it is matched with genuine action.

While there is still a cultural sniff at the work of The Waitangi Tribunal, there are many reasons why its actions be applauded as they lay the foundations for a future Aotearoa New Zealand.  The tribunal places a lot of importance on our future as a nation and the growing importance of biculturalism across a culturally diverse nation.  It is also acting as a catalyst in preparing for some dramatic social and political changes now taking place.  Te Tiriti o Waitangi-The Treaty of Waitangi agenda through the work of the tribunal holds the greatest potential for peace and justice in our own land.

Mokomoko was executed for a crime he did not commit.  A congregation of Catholic Maori women, children and elderly men were butchered by the Militia while in worship on a Sunday at Rangiaowhia near Te Awamutu in 1864. In the US, teen Karla Tucker was executed for a crime she committed a half a lifetime earlier as a drunk-sodden prostitute.  To the humanist in us, these are barbarous acts even in the American south where guns are fondled as the accoutrements of manhood, where the John Wayne swagger is a statement of manliness; they do not seem to understand that gratuitous violence and counter violence soon become the same thing.  Is this the only way to mitigate public outrage?  Where is forgiveness?  We saw forgiveness rise out of South Africa through Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu.  It happened in our own parliament this week.

Let us think of forgiveness, not as a weakness but an act of courage and strength, as a humane and decent gesture.  Let us suggest that where there is no forgiveness, there is little hope for a better society, then despair and its hoon companions of rage and violence slips easily into the vacuum.

Before healing can occur in the hearts of the aggrieved, repentance is a start that is followed by confession.  Restitution follows; a genuine attempt to restore that which has been damaged and seek justice whatever the cost.

Tuhoe have never been passive.  For over a century, they were portrayed by the state as offensive in various forms of resistance before being dispossessed by a combination of military force and the legislative power of the state.  This kind of intemperate action seemed to Maori to be convincing proof that (some) Pakeha New Zealanders can be very rabid in defense of their assimilationist agenda.  After all Tuhoe, the children of the mist they say harboured criminals and lawbreakers.

Forgiveness and redemption come when we recognise that we have the ability to empower ourselves and others by simply saying, “Sorry.”

“Tamati, is the price enough?”  Kruger replied, “$171 million for the expropriation of land, language and wellbeing?  How much is enough?” 

At the heart of our nation is a spirit of generosity, the light of redemption that Kruger is holding up above the gloom from which shines maungarongo (peace and redemption), whanaungatanga (hospitality and generosity), Kaitiakitanga (protection of our core values), and mana (authority of the partners of the treaty). 

… thank you Tamati for showing us how naked we are in the wake of a litany of betrayals.

“…those who live without trying are forgotten.” 

 

 

 

 

Matariki - Our Earth

“As a child I went into the chill of morning to greet a special group of stars to welcome Te Matahi o te Tau, The Freshness of a New Beginning.”  Haare Williams comments. 



History of Matariki - www.matarikievents.co.nz



Looking to Aotearoa New Zealand for something special?  Then look no more.  Instead, look up to the heavens and you may be blessed by a sighting of the seven stars of Pleiades - Matariki.

 

When you discover them, you’ll find something that is richly Aotearoa. Our country has changed more than some realise and getting to know that this richness is a part of change. Many corporate organisations including The Maritime Museum and The Auckland War Memorial Museum will this year highlight this event.  Why?

Not so long ago, many New Zealanders used to cringe at some aspects of our cultural heritage, especially when it came to stories like that of the taniwha, Patupaearehe and ngarara. 

The cosmic rising of Matariki set the start of the Maori New Year.  Unlike the western calendar, the Maori year was determined by the ‘Nights of the moon’ and not by the ‘Days of the month’.  The Maori seasons were read in the stars, which began and ended with the heliacal rising (or setting) of certain stars. Pleiades was the main determinant for the seasons here and in Pasifika, India, Burma and South America.  In England the group is known as “The Seven Sisters”, in Japan it’s “Subaru”.  The Greeks referred to them as Pleiades.

As a kid, I joined my koro and kuia in the chill of dawn to celebrate the signs (tohu) which heralded the Maori New Year.  When Puanga (Rigel) appeared in May, it signalled that Matariki would soon follow.  But it was the new moon that followed Matariki that marked the beginning of the Maori year. 

The rising of Puanga (Rigel) heralded the start known as, Te Matahi o te Tau,” The gift of a fresh beginning.”  The year’s beginning was not a fixed time.  It varied from year to year rather like Easter, each ‘month’ determined precisely by the night of the new moon.

Besides the rising and setting of certain constellations, there were other signs which signalled seasonal change, amongst these the flowering of plants like the kowhai, sprouting of ferns, the mating and moulting of birds’ feathers, singing of insects, and the arrival and departure of two migratory birds. 

The first night was ‘Whiro’, not a good time for anything; the sixteenth was ‘Turu’, a good time for sea foods; the twenty-eighth night was ‘Whiro’, the disappearance of the moon.  After twenty-eight nights the new moon started a new cycle.  

The seasons were believed to have a profound effect on the lives of people in their actions, moods, desires, lovemaking, ovulation, conception, contraception, birth, and helped to shape one’s destiny as in astrology.  Maori too could foretell and control weather, tides and seasons. 

Each night is named according to a particular phase of the moon and determined planting, harvesting, fishing and other activities. The moon, ever connected with water has associations with names like Tangaroa who is [1]kaitiaki of tides.  When Hinauri (The Dark Moon and sister of Maui) crossed the ocean to a far away land (Aotearoa), she married Tinirau, son of Tangaroa and made their home on Motutapu Island.

Summer and Winter solstices were personified in Hineraumati (Summer Maid) and Hinetakurua (Winter Maid) the seasonal lovers of Tamanui-te-Ra (the sun).  Daughters of Tangaroa, Winter Maid live out at sea, and Summer Maid on land.  Tamanui-te-Ra spends half the year with Hineraumati the other with Hinetakurua.

We now show less of the cultural cringe that once made us insist that England was ‘home’.  Recent interest in the Maori lunar year with the cosmic rising of Matariki has increased over the past five years.  John Campbell of TV3, ‘Campbell Live’, attributed to the constellation as; “A more appropriate celebration than Queen’s Birthday”. I note too that the Auckland Harbour Board Chair, Sir Bob Harvey is signalling that Matariki should be accepted as a national event. Piripi Haami, Far Northland leader says, “It’s time we had our own special celebrations.”  I go along with Campbell, Sir Bob, and Haami. 

Isn’t it time we pensioned-off the tired old celebrations that had their roots in another hemisphere and a heaven that few believe in. Pension-off Queen’s Birthday, and instead celebrate the Maori New Year, an event indigenous to us, which happens around the same time. Matariki speaks to us of home and of a natural order and, unlike the monarchy, it’s readily accessible. 

In 2003, the new moon rose on 20 June.  In 2007 on Sunday 20 June and last year (2012) on Sunday 22 June coinciding exactly with the winter solstice.

We should all be honest and say that December 25 is no longer a Christian festival.  It is a riotous mid-summer end-of-year commercial orgy.  Of course Christ should be in Christmas, but Christmas is out of place here in our summer. 

Our society can be enriched by the stories of Matariki, taniwha and other deities like Patupaearehe and Papatuanuku which sounds more like us in our own landscape. 

So, let’s have a riotous southern hemisphere mid-winter-end-of-year fest without the commercial trappings, one that sings with reminders of rebirth, spring, growth and hope; let’s all have festivals that celebrate our place with the vibrancy of spring life in our corner of Earth.

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[1] Kaitiaki ‘a watchful guardian, protection of the potentiality in all things, hence Kaitiakitanga