SAVE THE SOUL OF IHUMATAO

I sat with Mavis Roberts, kuia of Te Ahiwaru, her son Saul and nephew Jim in her modest home under the lengthening shadow of the airport runway expansion.   She looked out her kitchen window across her tiny section, “One day these fields will come back to us as kaitiaki.” That was November 2010.

It’s Sunday 11pm 21 February 1864 at Rangiaowhia, near Te Awamutu where a congregation of elderly men, women and children are about to begin Holy Communion with ‘the blood of Christ’.  A rifle shot shatters the peace as eighty-eight men of The Forest Rangers of the 65th Regiment led by Col George Marmaduke Nixon mounted one of bloodiest attacks that pinned down the congregation and the church alight.  Von Tempsky and his Forest Rangers entered the fighting later.  Everyone inside perished.  Today there are streets around Ihumatao and the airport named after those bloody ‘heroes’ of the Empire.  A monument to Nixon stands in Otahuhu.  Here in Ihumatao the people of Te Awhitu, Kawerau-a-Maki, and Te Ahiwaru, Ngati Te Ata are not alone as they dig in for the remaining shards of their cherished Lands around Ihumatao; ancient, sacred and a future about to go. 

(Photo) The SOUL(diers), cousins of Ihumatao: Waimarie McFarland,, Moana Waa, Pania Newton, Haki Wilson, Qiane Matata-Sipu, Bobby-Jo  Pihema and children

SOUL (Save Our Unique Landscape) is led by new generation rangatahi who have put themselves through law school and into the media who now take the fight to where it matters most.  Cousins, Moana Waa, Pania Newton, Waimarie McFarlane, Haki Wilson and Quiane Matata have a linking heritage to the land and to the ancient Otuataua Stonefields around Ihumatao in Mangere.  They, with their supporters last November presented a petition to parliament with 4,000 signatures opposing The Special Housing Areas Act (SHA62) taking up land to build 480 homes on land around Ihumatao.  They know that they would be forsaking their children and generations to come if they don’t make a unified stand now.  They also know that their mana, prosperity and wellness was intact up to the [i]1860s when things turned very bad for them.  “Since the confiscations of 1863,” says Quiane Matata, “This community has been knocked by one set back or another as we prepare submissions to the Waitangi Tribunal.”

‘SoulTimes’ points out that, “The SHA is (1) In breach of the Treaty as the Act is passed without consultation and (2) That the Act does not make provision for the protection of Taonga and (3) It undermines the ability of the residents to exercise Kaitiakitanga in relation to the land.”  Their objections are laudable given that The Otuataua Stonefields and the land is the last bastion of Tainui history dating back to the ninth century.”

The state stripped them of their birthright making them dependent wards in their own country, first by confiscation and later by legal device through The Native Land Court to remove tupuna from their villages. The state waived its own laws to legitimise appropriation.  The lust for Maori land was cruel, unlawful and undeserving.  The consequences for the home people were language loss, cultural erosion, and social breakdown in the new nation they so enthusiastically helped to build. 

They spread out like vampires thirsting for the life-blood of Earth.  Free market capitalism is the new theology where wealth, not people is the new religion with its ethos of speaking so no one understands.

SOUL asks, “When will earth living humans learn to live with the land and stop plundering the generosity of a giving earth?”  We constantly face the ravages of weather, gun violence, fear and the deepening disparities between the poor and those who want more now choking our silent planet to the point where it’s ridiculously out of control.

Mavis Roberts adds, “We watch helpless as the mana of our land is sucked, like the water that’s bottled and sold.”  And since tribal identity is linked to land, the loss is more devastating.  I see richness in SOUL, in their elders and in their wider community.  But that’s wearing thin.

Te Ahiwaru, Te Akitai Te Kawerau-a-Maki and Ngati Te Ata are a giving, ingenuous people, deserving of respect.  They have been giving, open and future looking.  Their connection to this land is now seriously threatened by mergers and consolidations of wealth extremism.  

 “Let’s be nice”, some say, only trouble is nice doesn’t exist anymore.  The cold fingers of penury are reaching deep into the blood stream of our nation, especially when we see a mum with four kids (one a baby) facing winter sleeping out in a van in a cold street.

The Maori landscape is defined by a continuous cultural link to natural features such as wai (water), ngahere (forests), repo (marshlands), wharua  (valleys and estuaries), waahi tapu (sites, burial grounds, stone fields), waahi mahinga kai (cultivations), parekura (fortifications and fortresses), paparahi (ancient tracks), and ahi ka (fires on the land).

This threatened space is for the people of Ihumatao a taonga or a cultural treasure. It means also the obligated Kaitiakitanga or protection of the land and its natural resources.  During the Waitangi Tribunal hearings (1985), the nation heard other stories of heroes like Tarapipipi Te Waharoa of Ngati Haua who, with a mere 500, built a formidable fortress between the Waikato River and Lake Waikare at Te Kauwhata defending their mana against the overwhelming odds of 1300 troops and a gun-boat, on 20 November, 1863.  They routed the might of the mightiest empire.  For trying to defend house and home, they were quickly slapped with The Suppression of Rebellion Act of 1863 for a rebellion that didn’t take place.

 “The Natives were treated as rebels and war declared against them before they had engaged in rebellion of any kind and in the circumstances they had no alternative but to fight in self defence.  In their eyes, the fight was, not against the Queen’s sovereignty, but a struggle for house and home ...”. (The Hon Sir William Sim, Royal Commission Report, 1926)

So, what happened?  What happened is well documented in the testimonies put before The Waitangi Tribunal:

“... it was therefore resolved to drive these poor men and women and their children from their homes and confiscate their lands. There was no difficulty in finding a pretext.  They were Maoris and relatives of Potatau....”  (The Hon Sir William Sim, Royal Commission Report, 1926)

Is this retribution for a ‘rebellion’ to defend house and home?  Eleven thousand acres around Ihumatao was confiscated and today all that is left is 1.5 acres of Maori Reservation Land on which the Makaurau Marae stands.  They feel powerless against the political and corporate elite of power brokers to preserve what little is left.  “Since the confiscations,” Says Pania Newton, “Our community has suffered.”

I see a people spurned whose voice is no longer a voice in the wilderness.  It is the voice of moderation for justice, not violence nor insurrection.  Yet.  How much more can they take?  Still, they continue to watch over their dwindling acres and exercise kaitiakitanga just as Kaiwhare, their benevolent taniwha oversees the harbour and the bounties of Tangaroa.  Strangers keep coming, whose underlying ethos was strictly to gain more land.  They came in the guise of friends from their own repressive structures. 

 “Standing at this corner, “says Pania Newton, one of the cousins, “And looking over the land, I see this beautiful green space;  a peaceful, very spiritual space. I see European and Maori history. I see the Maori history when our tupuna were settled in this area. It’s very quiet here. It’s peaceful.  It’s devastating to look at this land and try and picture a 480 unit, high-density housing going up.” 
Qiane Matata-Sipu adds, “The SHA Act doesn’t allow for Maori to have input about what areas are designated as Special Housing Areas.  That goes against the Treaty of Waitangi. I want my children to have some connection to the whenua in the way that their great-grandparents did.” 

Soul will take their peaceful fight to the streets, to the courts and into parliament.  They are fighting for the mana of their tupuna. They’re not alone.  Ironically, Tainui in Mangere has again shown great generosity of spirit as they did in the 1860s by opening the doors of one of its marae at Te Puea to the poor and homeless.  They deserve respect and they deserve honour.  The ‘cousins’ of SOUL Ihumatao are telling their story.  The more disagreeable the truth then the more it must be told.  Their fight is for house and home.  “They want everything,” Mavis Roberts concludes, “When will the struggle end?  We have only hope.” 

They cling to hope.  Hope is inside.  No one can take it away.  No good thing ever dies. 

Haare Williams Papakura 28/07/16

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[i] 1863The Suppression of Rebellion Act

No right of trial before imprisonment its intention was the punishment of ‘certain aboriginal tribes of the colony’, for rebelling against the Crown

ŌTUATAUA

The Ihumatao Stonefields in Manukau 

“One day these fields and land will come back to us as kaitiaki,” the impassioned words of Mavis Roberts, kuia of Te Ahiwaru tribe sat in her lounge looking out across the waahi that was once a sacred site for her people of Ihumatao, now being swallowed up irrev0ocably by Auckland’s International Airport expansion.

Some weeks earlier, I sat amongst the Otuataua rocks with a sketch book in hand and felt the nearness of her ancestors looking over my shoulder nodding their heads approvingly now, her words echoing their anguished cries when they were stripped off these cherished acres going right back to 1863 for alleged disloyalty to Queen Victoria.  A long time to grieve. 

As I sat amongst those rocks, there was an omnipresence of Te Ahiwaru generations around their fires, fishing nets and gardens.  I also felt their presence when the local tribes gave evidence to The Waitangi Tribunal Manukau Harbour Claim 1986:

“The Natives were treated as rebels and war declared against them before they had engaged in rebellion of any kind and in the circumstances they had no alternative but to fight in self defence.  In their eyes, the fight was not against the Queen’s sovereignty, but a struggle for house and home ...”

(The Hon Sir William Sim, Royal Commission Report, 1926)

For Mavis, her son Saul, and nephew Jim, “This is more than a commercial thing without a heart,  a cash till nor is it a space for boxes to be built upon boxes.”  I asked, “What does this land mean?”  “He pūmanawa! A heartbeat!” 

“The old name for those stones is Atuataua – The Warriors of the Gods,” Saul Roberts told me.

Aucklanders turned their backs on this space in the 1960s when the sewage ponds were sited here,  “Though in a funny way that has protected the area from going the same way as other parts of Auckland.” 

The stone walls is evidence of a thriving industry built around survival; every stone moved with bare hands their warmth trapped in mounds provided the hothouses to propagate seeds and seedlings for planting in the fertile soils.

I saw images of harvesting the bounties of Tangaroa protected by the kaitiaki of The Manukau Harbour, [1] Kaiwhare’ the watchful taniwha. Their mana and prosperity was intact up to the 1860s when things went awfully wrong. This sublime rural landscape is as old as human habitation as early as the ninth Century.  The Otuataua Stonefields is testimony to the resourcefulness of early Maori to use stone walls to trap the heat in the walls of their houses and stone mounds. 

In their storage pits the stones provided a way to preserve food stocks such as kumara, taro and in later years, potatoes.

What happened? 

What happened is well documented in the testimonies put before The Waitangi Tribunal:

“... it was therefore resolved to drive these poor men and women and their children from their homes and confiscate their lands. There was no difficulty in finding a pretext.  They were Maoris and relatives of Potatau...”.

(The Hon Sir William Sim, Royal Commission Report , 1926)

Tainui tribes had valid customary rights promised under the treaty when it was signed in 1840.  Those rights were protected and guaranteed by the British Crown. In closing its hearing on The Manukau Harbour, The Waitangi Tribunal wrote;

 “… its governors and officials acted with ruthless pragmatism that sidelined the treaty and deliberately advantaged settlers over Maori, and its purchases left Te Ahiwaru, Te Aki Tai, Kawerau-a-Maki and Ngati Te Ata in poverty.”

1894, The Validation of Invalid Land Sales Act meant that any Pakeha settler mis-dealings concerning Maori land were legitimised by this Act. Te Ahiwaru, Te Akitai and Ngati Te Ata in Auckland and other tribes lost land through this vicious Act.

Evidence of Pakeha settlement here in the 1800s also abound; reminders in the names Ellett, Rennie, Wallace, Mendelsshon and Montgomerie families.

The Ōtuataua Stone Fields were secured as a reserve in 1989 by The Manukau City Council, in Sir Barry Curtis’ words;

“To honour the history of the land and the people who built their homes and raised the families here over the past 800 years.”

Well, the signs are that’s come to an end …

The second runway for Auckland International Airport has already gobbled up whanau and land.  Tracts of rich horticultural soils around Mavis and her whanau are going.  And there’s no easing back in sight.

Saul Roberts told me, “Big wet boxes go up everywhere and nowhere.  Once land becomes urban then there’s no going back.  It’s called progress, but at what cost?”

“Every time I open my back door, I see the shadow of an airport,” Mavis concluded. “No, it’s never too late; the heartbeat of our ancestors breathes in us.”

And so, despite a Royal Commission Report, and a hearing before The Waitangi Tribunal, the litany of broken promises for Mavis and her people continue. 

Rua Cooper, Tainui kaumatua left us this taonga:

 “Ahakoa nga hara kua ūtaina ki runga ki te moana tapu e hora nei, ngā he me ngā whakamomori kei tua, ahakoa te kaika te ngākau o a mātau rangatahi, ka ū tonu te ngākau māhaki o te iwi o Manukau ki te ture Atua, ki te ture whenua, me te ture o te motu.  Engari, me whakatika ngā hara ahakoa atu mehe tīmata ano”

Rua Cooper 1992

(Translation)

Despite wrong doings to the people and to the Manukau Harbour, and some chafing at the bit by our young people, those before us reaffirmed their loyalty to the nation; it’s not our loyalty that is in question but the good faith of the other partner of the treaty.  Past wrongs can be put right, and it’s not too late to begin again.”

Manukau has a special cultural heritage.  The Ōtuataua Stonefields can only survive where it is.  

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[1] Te Manuka – the name, meaning “anxiety” over the dangerous harbour crossing was named by Hoturoa, captain of Tainui canoe

Haare Williams a strange but inspirational chance meeting  at The Grafton Bridge Cemetery with a ‘street kaumatua’ as a ‘light and breath   into what Auckland can be.

It’s Wednesday one year ago on 13 February, seven days and 174 years on since Hobson witnessed the signing of the treaty at Waitangi.  I still have a tingling feeling meeting ...

Remus Thompson-Jackson Kukutai

It’s a warm mid-summer’s day and I have come to The Grafton Bridge Cemetery to honour probably New Zealand’s most iconic historical figure ‘Captain William Hobson Lieutenant Governor, 1840-1842’.  I hadn’t realised that someone had joined me until a gravelly voice spoke, his diction as crisp as the fresh light. 

“Kia ora.  Ko Remus ahau; Remus Thompson-Jackson Kukutai”.  Surprised but not suspended.  Hmmm, Remus I thought now there’s a heroic name for a literary hero.  Was not the city of Rome founded by the twin brothers Remus and Romulus in 758BC?. 

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 regaled me with his whakapapa to Kukutai, a noble whanau of his Waiuku and Te Awhitu kin, a descendent therefore of the thirty-two chiefs being  the only signatories of the treaty in te reo Pakeha (English language). 

We were meant to be there that day.  His face was layered by the whips and scorns of the streets of Auckland and he, by his own admission a Street Kid.  “I’ve been on these streets for the best part of my life,” he admitted.  His face told me he must be a good seventy-plus.  His eyes expressed wit, empathy and a poetic nuance.

He spoke on decorously, “The strangers knew what they wanted:   land.  Maori wanted to protect their lands.  Heke knew what tauiwi (the strangers) wanted.  Heke quickly withdrew his moral support for the newcomers’ “Lust for more land.”  But, spurred on by the spirit of building a new nation, Apihai Te Kawau of Ngati Whatua wanted the same by making a ta koha (loan) of 3000 acres of prime tribal lands to build the new capital. 

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

 “Don't ever forget!  Tell them.”  As I tried to get a word edgewise, I said, “Ok, I will.”

 “Maori were successful sailors, boat builders, navigators, carpenters, traders, soldiers, farmers and business people; we beat them at their own game.  Their science was the sky above and the earth below.”  He took a long breath.  “This is a waahi tapu that need tenderness and the human touch.”  

“Pakeha; they don't care for their mate (dead); nor about their tupuna (ancestors). They talk with passion about te tai ao (the environment). Nonsense!  We, Maori are the ones who carry the cost of any environmental damage and we’re still paying the price.”

 “Ko te moni ke te atua te atua o Te Pakeha.  This holy place is nothing more than an open toilet.” (he used a more graphic expletive to describe the condition of this ‘holy’ place).

He spoke on ponderously.  I tried to get another word.  He as I was, deeply shocked by the stressed look of Hobson’s resting place in a forgotten wilderness.  

 "Look at this, a Waahi Tapu, and what do you see (long pause), “... shit and litter.  And broken memorials, a rubbish dump, unkempt trees, around it a city without eyes, ears or a heart. “

We were there for probably an hour, maybe more.   Yet, gemstones fell from the lips of this luminary who has walked each pavement across the city he loves.  Before I left, he nudged me to recite a karakia and asked for ‘Whakaaria Mai,’ (Amazing Grace) for Hobson, for this waahi tapu, for rangatahi who find solace under the bridge and for a city for its indifference for those who reside here. 

We embraced in a long hongi as we parted, I said, “Thank you your amazing grace,” He bowed with a smile.  I asked for and he gave me his address at 140 Hobson Street.  I assured him that I’d pick him up for lunch. 

I looked back to wave and catch his eye but he was already in an animated conversation, quite likely apologising to Hobson for the sins and omissions of the great city he founded.  Again I saw the poet who did not lack nuance or faith in his words.  He struck me as angry, yes, but rich, feisty and compassionate.  Hobson deserves more than this.  Where then is the noble patrimony of state, civic, church and marae elders.  Any sign of that is not visible.  Ngati Whatua alone on the 6^th of February each year comes here at dawn to honour Hobson – and may I add Remus. No credit points to Auckland Council and the mighty super city plan which he renamed, “the most unliveable City in the world - if you’re Maori or poor that is.”

                 

As I left, I took away with me the rare images of a face sculpted by the whips and scorns of time with the shadows of tall oak trees and the lengthening stretches of sunlight that burnished a trail across forgotten head stones.  His words cutting deep, “Hobson was a good man.  A good man, e hoa!”

When I boarded my bus, I knew that I’d met a poet who sees a city desperate for happiness, a kind of epiphany in his sudden appearance with poetic words denouncing an “... uncaring city.  Is this retribution for having the vision and courage to build Auckland?  “No!” he assured me. His is not a lone voice in his remonstrations for hope.  

Since that day, I have tried to connect with him at 140 Hobson Street.  No one there.  I have checked with whanau at Whatapaka Marae on the Manukau.   They know of no-one by that name.  Was he just a part of my vivid imagination?  A spectral vision or did I meet an angel? Just suppose I actually met the reincarnation of the Roman hero, Remus? 

I know one thing, I’d met a poet who lacked neither nuance nor ambiguity; he struck me as rich in imagery, emotion, insight and an amazing grace. Remus Thompson-Jackson Kukutai.  Extra-ordinary!

We shared Hobson’s hope for a new nation as he recounted Hobson’s words.

“He iwi kotahi tatau. We are one people.”

(William Hobson 6 February 1840)

Hei kona mai.

Haare Williams

Papakura 5 February 2016

FLAG MANA OVER THE LAND

Haare Williams Papakura 28 January 2016

A former executive director with the 1990 Commission saw the construction and assembly of twenty-one waka at Waitangi for the 1990 Sesquicentennial, an expert in tikanga, an educator and former broadcaster, Haare Williams believes that a decision on a New Zealand flag should stay until 2040.  He claims, “Maori and service men deserve to be heard.”

I have canvassed Maori at hui, wananga and tangi and as well with rangatahi (youth) forums over the issue of a flag change, because polls say nothing about Maori opinion on anything.  These groups tell me one thing.  Don’t change.  They add our nation must first address issues of inequality, deprivation and environmental degradation.  The marae forum is the only space Maori feels ok about making choices.  

When a New Zealand-owned ship was impounded in Sydney for not flying a flag in March 1834, the British Resident, James Busby called chiefs to Waitangi to select a national flag. They chose one, which became the flag of The Independent United Tribes of New Zealand known as Te Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Aotearoa. 

As they owned a good share of coastal shipping on our waters, they chose a flag that promised security, justice and peace.   Besides, it gave them access to a burgeoning international market.  By then they knew that flags stood for mana a word not used in the treaty five years later.  It also meant control.  With the treaty in place, Maori entered the spirit of building a new nation, economic and political alongside the protection of natural resources.  The rule of democracy or the rule of many, did not count as Maori outnumbered the settler population by 500 to every Pakeha living in Aotearoa. 

The treaty that followed was a document which represented a negotiated boundary by which Maori allowed arrivals  gain access across the threshold into their homes, marae and land as respected manuhiri tuarangi (special guests) and extend manaakitanga (generosity and hospitality).  This agreed partnership was to form a new nation, Niu Tireni (New Zealand) in the form of four Articles.  The declaration of 1835 was ratified by King William IV that confirmed Maori chiefs’ mana (sovereignty) over their lands and estates, forestry and fisheries.  

That partnership was betrayed by settler rulers here and the fall-out still cuts deep.  Colonisation did not, for my part kill the heart of tikanga (Maori authority), but gave the young colony a bicultural strength – a first internationally.  Without Participation, Potentiality and Protection, Partnership is without meaning. 

 The chiefs wanted security, peace, technologies, agricultural know-how and a fair sale for their land.  Yes, but they also sought an end to musket wars and welcomed the economic vibrancy that expanded in The Bay of Islands and beyond.  They were quick to grab the language and technologies of the new-comers and in fact did many things better than their migrant counterparts.  When the Union Jack was hoisted above Pt Britomart, William Hobson was received enthusiastically and with the support of Apihai Te Kawau of Ngati Whatua they set up the new capital in Auckland. Hone Heke lost his enthusiasm for the treaty which he signed, when with only a year out he repudiated British rule and hacked down British authority at Kororareka. 

So, what does a flag represent?  For me, it is a national expression of oneness, of pride and mana across our land and territorial waters.  It says we are unlike anything else in the world.  Our current flag has deep symbolic and emotional meaning, which is much more than a mere intrinsic design.

Any change cannot sideline Maori opinion nor ignore the RSA.  Generations of our nation’s youth were drafted into the army of The British Empire and Commonwealth who fought and died under the Union Jack.  They paid the ultimate price.  We have a strong past and present to build a secure future.

At the core of our society are the storehouses of two rich cultures, Maori and Pakeha who between them are forging a third which embraces the principle of two cultures, Maori as Tangata Whenua and Pakeha as Tangata Tiriti who between them have created 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 is flexible enough to welcome later cultures such as Pasifika and other strands as we grow and change the increasingly rich diversity of a multicultural landscape.

Iwi controlled economic activity with the exception of a few Pakeha entrepreneurs who had been adopted into a tribe and reciprocated by the exchange of skills and technology they brought.  The chiefs’ main motive for signing the two declarations?  The answer: access to British technology, yes but also economic tools, machines and crops.  In short, development and management. 

Up to 1840 of 443 convictions for petty crimes, only nine were committed by Maori.  Missionaries in the Bay of Islands and elsewhere reported, “Literacy amongst Maori was widespread,” and only fifty-percent of the settler population could not read.  Up to 1860, Maori owned and operated thirty-seven flour mills in Waikato-Hauraki-South Auckland.  In 1853 fifty three Maori owned trading ships of 14 ton or more were registered in Auckland.  Another example; in 1857 East Coast Maori sold 46,000 bushels of wheat, owned 200 head of cattle, 500 pigs, and founded markets in Australia.  Ownership was not a Maori concept …what they exercised was Kaitiakitanga over land, fisheries, forestry and nga taonga katoa (everything they deemed precious). 

Flags quickly sprouted on marae flagpoles across the nation.  Te Kooti of Turanganui-a-Kiwa (Poverty Bay) decided to match British authority with a personal flag measuring twenty-two feet, and he sat in the saddle upon a great white Arab stallion he named Pokaikaha which matched the mana (power) of General Duncan Cameron.   The Hau Hau movement flew flags which signaled mana over lands in Taranaki and Waikato.  Rua Kenana, the self proclaimed prophet of Maungapohatu had his peaceful flag confiscated in 1916 as “a rebellious flag.”  In recent years the Tino Rangatiratanga flag attracted public angst as “the flag of those troublesome protestors.”

All this tribal enterprise carried out by a people who owned and worked their lands and confident in tribal mana.  On the face of it, the two races seemed to come together.  Maori were coping with the influx of settlers and their land use and trade were burgeoning.  The country seemed safely on the road to prosperity and cordial race relations. Well, it didn’t go that way.

The treaty is not about privilege. It’s about the most basic principles of justice and law.  The tribunal’s kaupapa is not about who’s right or who’s wrong but recognise the importance of peace, reconciliation and justice.  He maungarongo ki te whenua, he whakaaro pai ki nga tangata katoa.

The flag change?  Some say, hold it.  Let me scotch any rumour that I’m an oracle, a visionary luminary washed ashore in nautilus shells, or a mid-night tooth fairy.  2040 is only twenty-five years away.  In 1990 a mere twenty-five years ago our nation celebrated our Sesquicentennial. By 2040 we will all have reason to celebrate a treaty that is like no other.      

For a start the land settlement process will have reached a new and exciting dynamic. We will have buried the lizards of colonisation in the long drop of colonial history.  The country will be well on its way towards reconciliation, justice and peace.  They will emerge with sizable assets which will be translated into strong business partnerships which will provide the resources for management and development together with kaitiakitanga, the protection of natural resources like forestry, water, seabed and seashore.

Maori will be positioned to recover some of the 66.5million acres they lost over the past two centuries by artifice of parliament and The Maori Land Court.  Our kids in primary schools will learn tikanga and te reo as a natural part of the primary school curriculum using successful Kohanga Reo, Kura kaupapa and Wananga learning techniques.  The nation will be ready for a Maori PM, probably two (women). Waitangi Day 2040 will be a day like no other.  With Maori leadership strong, we can expect the nation to again rise to new challenges as it did between 1835 and 1860. 

This year on Waitangi Day it is important for us all to reacquaint ourselves with our nation’s history, tragic though some parts are.  We have good reason to celebrate a cornerstone that has endured one hundred and seventy-five years of trial, challenge and change.  2040 will be an opportunity to plan and build upon another threshold of trust, peace and a renewal of the treaty promise.

My final plea to John Key and Andrew Little is, hold the decision to 2040 and allow time to weld our nation under the wairua (living spirit) of a uniting banner. 

The corollary of this decision would mean inscribing Maori values or tikanga into state policy and into a constitution.  A new culture of professional leaders, Maori and Pakeha will emerge who are comfortable in both cultures and languages looking, not just to justice and history but beyond to business and development capitalism. 

Make people richer, make our service men and women richer, make Maori richer and we are all richer as a nation.

MAHANA-THE MOVIE

Haare Williams Papakura 1 February 2016

On a Saturday night Haare Williams joined throngs of kids flocking into the small Te Karaka picture Hall.  Some, lucky to have horses tethered the sweaty beasts to the fence outside, a few carried saddles into the hall.  For these youngsters; Brown, Rutene, Ruru, Kerekere, Hitaua, Williams and Ihimaera, Roy Rogers and Hopalong Cassidy were clean cut westerns.  Most, like us from Mangatu and Waituhi walked. Getting home was a fun bit too.

 Culture is a proud driver to have in work and life as it is for Lee Tamahori who used it with deft.  He knows whakapapa.  He knows tikanga.  And he knows the place of te reo as the soul of Aotearoa New Zealand.  I had not met him before our first around the table briefing when I sat between him and Witi Ihimaera, author and the source of Mahana, the movie.  Running through the first reading of the script with cast and crew, Tamahori looked the consummate director.   He expected no less than authenticity from a youthful team.  

Mahana is a story set in Patutahi, a tiny rural village west of Gisborne.   The movie is inspired by Ihimaera’s Bulibasha which traces the shifting fortunes of two rival, shearing families, that highlight their ups and downs in a shifting landscape. 

Temuera Morrison stood off to one side, looking every bit like Tamihana Mahana. He sauntered in late, old hat and boots and greying stubble to match.  With wit, humour and commanding voice he was every bit the patriarch  of  the movie whanau.  Tamihana Poata at that moment had landed.   

This is a yarn about our land and people, their core values about morality, ethics, justice and conservation.  Reverence is there, a component missing in today’s schools.  Stories reveal who we are.  Stories provide a rationale for why we do things the way we do and what shaped us into a modern, vibrant nation.  Mahana is the archetypal tough head of his household who sits at the table and in his saddle sometimes looking tough sometimes scary all the time self-assured.  We see him stuff up too.  Calamity is an element of a good in a story.   The ingredients of a gripping tale are all there; tension, deception, betrayal, drama conflict and reconciliation.

The hero is Ramona with a gentle strength played out by Nancy Bruning who bears the lines of anguish on her face.  Ramona, mother with her restorative soul holds her children close.  Her strength and devotion is comforting in the ongoing feud. Nancy Bruning portrays wahine toa, the fine but fragile attributes of a woman with inner strength so like Ngati Porou women.  Morrison strikes gold with a stellar performance, arguably his best.   He is patriarchal.  Mature.  He is also fresh.  His best is yet to come. 

 The gang is typical of shearing gangs whose reputation was built around the speed of the hand piece.   My dad, Te Wehinga was a shearer of note in Turanganui-a-Kiwa.  He did not have to go looking for contracts.  They found him.  His three sons were noted shearers too.  I was at Teachers College.  It made him miserable if one of his shearers mishandled the confused animals.  These are post war years when Maori found fellowship in gangs or whanau with its own coterie of values  for boundaries within whanau kin groups. Many of his generation were still shell-shocked by war.  Some returned to find the festering sores for tribal lands after fighting so valiantly for king and country.  Many struggled to keep their families. 

Maori were also in the freezing industry, forestry and on waterfronts.  They were also building homes, highways and bridges. With their relative prosperity, they were able to invest, build homes and  buy motor vehicles popular models were the 39 Chevy and the 39 V8 Ford.  These jobs powered social mobility.  It was Maori, in the main who carried the country upon their backs towards another millennium.  They hardly, if ever merit a mention by public commentators. 

The post war years saw the emergence of Maori seeking work.  Set against this backdrop they made the social shift from the nurtured background of rural New Zealand to an urban setting.  Maori entered the professional work force essentially as teachers and nurses.  The seventies ushered in major social, cultural, economic and political changes.  It was a cultural and political watershed for Maori society with increasing activism.  Maori challenged government over its neglect for the 130 years before.  A new wave of Maori leaders emerged  from the relatively polite concerns voiced publicly by pre-war Maori leaders, now replaced by an assertive, confrontational voice in which the institutions of the modern state: parliament, education, courts and the media were held to account. The vanguard for this shift was a younger urban educated Maori who argued for justice. They gained support from iwi based Maori like Tuaiwa Rickard, Whina Cooper, Titewhai Harawira, and university based intellectuals in Pat Hohepa and Ranginui Walker.

Then there was the urban relocation with its consequences of social dislocation.  Waitangi was the hot call of the seventies.  Matiu Rata was a senior minister in Kirk’s government.  Kirk sent two frigates to Mururoa and stopped a Springboks tour. Small boats halted two US warships in their tracks in mid- Waitemata.  Whina Cooper led lobbyists to the steps of parliament with a list of grievances.  Dick Scott wrote ‘Ask that Mountain’ and Judith Binney Redemption Song. The hit-word of the seventies educational lexicon was ‘biculturalism.’ 

By the mid-seventies, New Zealanders did not consider marae-based arts as art at all. That changed quickly when The New Zealand Artists and Writers Association in 1973 met for the first time.  They converged as strangers at Tukaki in Te Kaha as disparate carvers and weavers, artists and writers, poets and philosophers, dancers, musicians and music makers, architects and film makers.  Amongst them were luminaries like Hone Taiapa, Ngoingoi Pewhairangi, Wiremu Parker, Hone Tuwhare, Ralph Hotere, Harry Dansey, Katerina Mataira and others.  And the list continues to grow. The Association influenced the decision to take Te Maori; a milestone in the Maori cultural renaissance showcasing traditional Maori arts was taken to a world stage.  This was only one part of a burgeoning Maori nationalism and culture that gathered momentum that politicised contemporary Maori artists.

Within this cultural resurgence we saw a new wave of Maori film-makers flex their cinematic muscle in Barry Barclay, Don Selwyn and Larry Parr followed by Merata Mita, Taika Waititi and Lee Tamahori.  They directed movies which allowed a muted Maori voice to be heard before a largely uniformed public.  What is especially important is Maori telling their own story and communicating it to a receptive world.

 Yes, I applaud the Dalmatians in wine-making, the Dutch in farming, Chinese in the goldfields, Indians in marketing and Pasifika in work.  But!  But, have we given a second thought to a group that built a culture for work, who in the 50s-60s-70s became a veritable back for building this nation.  They are the forgotten generation of our rural and industrial culture. They prospered yes, and so did the nation.  That prosperity however came to a sudden stop when the searing blades of Rogernomics with privatisation, asset sales and the free market theology kicked in.  Dole queues got longer and the poor got poorer. 

We talk a lot these days about Maori youth being disconnected from their origins but this is also true of Pakeha kids.  Many of our kids don’t hear their own stories so how can they own them?  How can they learn that they were never born to fail?  Younger generations need to hear stories of dads and mums, uncles, aunts, and grans all the way along a whakapapa trail and know why they too are heroes.  The Maori world is littered with great men and women.  We have something no-one else has.  Maori culture is what attracts long queues of tourists to our shores.  It is after all, a major contributor to the uniqueness that is Aotearoa New Zealand. 

 In the closing minutes of Mahana, we see so much wairua (living spirit) that I glowed with pride for the way the script binds characters and actions to a unified climax.  My favourite scene is ... e hika ma, you’ll just have to see this movie.  Our kids, Maori and Pakeha will love Mahana. You too will stand, salute and applaud when the credits roll. 

Aroha is a winner.

We Speak English Blog

“WE SPEAK ENGLISH HERE.”

Natalie Soto, aged 20 was the subject of a brutal tirade from another Sydney train passenger this Thursday.  Soto was speaking to her mother in Spanish during a phone conversation when a passenger fired a verbal missile.  The woman was caught on video saying, “Get that dirty wog off the train, she's giving me a headache!”

The issue of racial intolerance in Australia flares its ugly nostrils again with video of the multilingual Australian-born woman being abused.  Soto was told, "Why should we have to listen to this f***ing rambling?  We speak English in this country. If you can't speak it, don't speak it at all."  Soto told the infuriated passenger that she spoke several languages.  The woman replied: "Speak it in your own home, don't speak it in public."  The oppressive abuse was caught on video which went viral. 

Not long ago this unkind and intemperate sort of expletive was common here.  I recall an event which fuelled public outrage in our media when Hinewehi Mohi dared to sing our national song in a foreign language at Twickenham the holy grail of all rugby at the RWC opening in 1999.  The language happened to be Maori.  Today kiwis stand self righteously with right hand on chest and patriotically sing E Ihowa Atua then God of Nations.  Maori, an official language of Aotearoa New Zealand is grudgingly making progress.

Do we expect this disingenuous behaviour from Oz?  No, but before we condemn, first let’s clean up in our own patch.

Tuaiwa Rickard, Ripeka Evans, Syd and Hannah Jackson, Titewhai Harawira and Hone Harawira neo-Maori activists had a blunt message, “The colonial oppressive abuse of our lands, our language and our people has to stop.”  Ken Mair of Whanganui, a recidivist agitator for Maori rights was there with his cohorts for peace.  They pointed out that what was happening here was analogous to apartheid.

Maori activism highlighted Maori land grievance for more than 155 gruelling years of broken promises at the round-table of Pakeha legislators.  They highlighted deliberate (yes deliberate) Pakeha wrongdoing against a generous and giving people.  For Maori and for so long, parliament represented oppression.  “And we have a responsibility to highlight these issues,” he says.   An interviewer asked Mair, “Where will it all end?”  Mair Replied,  “Certainly not in another arms struggle, not ever again.  In war innocent people suffer, our people suffer. ”

In war the first casualty is truth. Parihaka, Ngatapa, Maungapohatu, Waitara,  Wairau, Bastion Point, Raglan, all the way to Moutoa, names that stand for a peaceful Maori stance against oppression. 

The Maori language has endured the war against it.  Maori words are now used increasingly in common discourse.  Some words sit easily with Pakeha ideas, others add a different strength, there are of course ideas which may be better in dealing with some of our contemporary challenges like dealing with dying, death, grief and healing to name one.  While these are not quantum leaps forward, they add up as small but incremental changes towards increased understanding.

But, relative judgement is unimportant compared with a willingness to acknowledge and accept difference.

Sadly though, many Pakeha New Zealanders still see language of no use as strictly utilitarian – like a spade or a cash register.  They are reluctant to use Te Reo here but happily burlesque it when they travel overseas.  They prefer that our kids learn Japanese, Chinese, French, and German (and yes) Spanish or some other language we can do business in.

Are we missing the opportunity to make coming generations of New Zealanders multilingual by not using teaching that is successfully done in Kohanga Reo (language nests) to teach resurgent Maori to all pupils in primary schools?  With the knowledge of two languages New Zealand kids could 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.

It was wananga, not universities that provided second chance tertiary education for iwi with an anchor that met local, cultural and Te Reo needs.  The loss of language is cancerous and as we have seen has led to intergenerational alienation which is difficult to break and costly to keep.

I commend the taonga (jewel) of Te Reo to all kiwi kids and not to leave it just to MLW (Maori Language Week).

While many Maori still feel a sense of powerlessness, many without the taonga of language, I have no concern if the obelisk for George Nixon on the roadside in Otahuhu is blown away. 

Thanks Ken.  

The good side in the Sydney-side train blast is that another passenger offered Natalie Soto her support by challenging the abuser, "So, her speaking another language is not okay but your saying the ‘f’ word in front of children is ok?"

So, when learning try something new, try another language.  Try listening.  Try speaking.  Try it.  It will change your life for the better.  Hei kona mai.

Haare Williams Papakura 19/12/15