July 2020 Māori Law Review

Indigenous languages in Parliament and legislation – comparing the Māori and Indigenous Australian experience

Julian R. Murphy looks at the use of Indigenous languages in parliamentary proceedings and legislation in Aotearoa New Zealand and Australia.


The Māori language has been used in Aotearoa New Zealand parliamentary debate since the 1860s. By contrast, the first Australian use of an Aboriginal language in Parliament was in 1981. However, in the last two decades Australia has seen a dramatic rise in Indigenous language use in federal, state and territory houses of Parliament. More recently, both New Zealand and Australia have commenced the next stage of this process – the enactment of statutes in Indigenous languages. Despite the very different paths both countries have taken to incorporating Indigenous languages into the lawmaking process, there is great potential for comparative analysis. In particular, the maturity of New Zealand’s bilingual legislative process offers a workable model for Australian parliaments looking to more meaningfully engage in this practice. Conversely, an understanding of Australia’s history of halting and muted multilingualism reveals the strengths of the current New Zealand system. Finally, each country’s recent enactment of Indigenous language statutes raise shared but unresolved questions of multilingual statutory interpretation.

In order to explore these questions, and draw out comparative insights, this article proceeds in four parts. First, a short survey is conducted of early Māori language lawmaking in New Zealand, which is contrasted with the silencing of Indigenous languages in Australian Parliaments. Then, both countries are shown to have experienced a period in which the use of Indigenous languages in Parliament was primarily symbolic or ritualistic followed by the present period in which Indigenous languages are used more substantively. Thirdly, the use of Indigenous languages in legislation will be studied in both countries. It will be seen that New Zealand has led Australia in the use of individual Indigenous words in statutes, then longer preambles, and finally fully bilingual statutes. The fourth part of this article considers the necessary next step in this process, namely, the judicial interpretation of Indigenous-language legislation. Here, again, it will be suggested that Australia has a lot to learn from New Zealand’s experience. It is hoped that the comparison conducted in this article will offer valuable insights for both countries and will encourage a continuing dialogue between the jurisdictions on these issues.[1]


“Tame parrots” and the Great Australian Silence

The Treaty of Waitangi was solemnised in both Māori and English in 1840, however it would be wrong to take this fact as an indication of Māori’s status as a civic language in fledgling New Zealand. To the contrary, Phil Parkinson has explained that “[b]etween 1840 and 1865 the Maori language was hardly used in Government”.[2] When it was proposed to include Māori as members of Parliament, other members objected on the basis that the language barrier would make it impractical and, indeed, impossible.[3] Over these objections, four Māori were afforded places in the House of Representatives in 1868.[4] Various procedures of the House were amended in anticipation of Māori involvement. All speeches to the House by the Governor were to be translated into Māori, as were all bills specially affecting Māori and selected parliamentary papers.[5]  A similar rule was in place in 1867 in the Legislative Council.[6] The presence of an interpreter was initially objected to on the basis that they would be a “stranger in the House”, however this objection was overridden and an official interpreter was provided.[7] Further objections were raised as to the impossibility of translating Bills into the Māori language.[8] In reality, it appears that very few Bills were translated.[9]

The first four Māori elected members of the House of Representatives – between 1868 and 1870 – were only minimally involved in the lawmaking process, primarily due to their inability to speak English.[10] Four new Māori replaced the previous members in 1870 and their involvement appears to have been slightly more active.[11]  However, on the whole, it appears that early Māori participation in parliamentary debate was very limited and that “Māori MPs were not expected to play a substantive part in law-making”.[12] As a result, the public began to refer to the Māori MPs as “Mōkai kākā” (tame parrots).[13] It is not clear how much parliamentary debate was translated and, even when translated, it does not appear Māori members were very regularly debating substantive legislation.[14] This appears to have slowly changed in the late 19th century as Māori members became more fluent in English.[15] From 1907 until 1940 there appears to have been very little Māori language used in Parliament.[16]

The position was even worse at the same time in Australia. The Indigenous population was, relatively speaking, much smaller than the Māori in New Zealand. Furthermore, there were hundreds of Australian Indigenous languages and no lingua franca common to the Indigenous groups across the continent. These two factors would have created difficulty for the colonisers had they attempted to engage Indigenous people in the institutions of government. In fact, they made no real attempt. Certainly there was no treaty or compact reached between the colonisers and any representative group of Indigenous people.[17] What agreements there were – such as the “Batman Treaty” – were drafted only in English and were legally and morally dubious.[18] Indeed, the first use of an Indigenous language in an Australian Parliament did not occur until 1981, and even then it was by a non-Indigenous politician.[19] It seems fair to describe the absence of Indigenous languages in early Australian parliamentary debate, as a “Great Australian Silence”, to borrow the phrase from pioneering anthropologist W. E. H. Stanner.[20]

However, it is interesting to note that when Australia did finally begin experimenting with parliamentary debate in Indigenous languages (in the late 20th century) many similar issues were encountered as to those faced by New Zealand 150 years earlier. This will be discussed in the next section, which explains how the increasing use of Indigenous languages in New Zealand and Australian houses of Parliament was initially symbolic, and is only now in the process of becoming more meaningful.

“A language of ritual” becoming a language of debate

The term “a language of ritual” is taken from Māmari Stephens and Phoebe Monk, who describe the way in which, for most of the 20th century, Māori language use in Parliament was limited to symbolism and ritual, rather than substance.[21] Stephens and Monk’s assiduous study of Hansard found 36 known uses of Māori in the period 1907 – 1986. Most of these examples, however, were occasions when Māori was used in “a formal or ritualistic nature”, for example tauparapara (chants), whakatauāki (ancestral sayings) or karakia (prayers and incantations).[22] When Māori members strayed beyond ritualistic uses to the use of Māori as an “everyday language … in parliamentary debates” they faced disapproval from others in the House.[23]

There are remarkable similarities between the New Zealand and Australian experience in this respect, although it all happened much later in Australia. In 1951 in New Zealand, a Māori parliamentarian who insisted on speaking Māori was told to “sit down” by the Speaker.[24] Sixty five years later across the Tasman, Aboriginal politician Bess Nungarryi Price attempted to use an Indigenous language in the Northern Territory Legislative Assembly. Price was told by the Speaker that she would be ruled disorderly if she continued to use that language without first obtaining permission.[25] The Speaker noted that “for the transaction of everyday business the language of the Assembly is English”.[26] Price responded: “I feel that I cannot effectively represent my electorate without using my first language, Warlpiri. Over 75 per cent of the population of my electorate is Aboriginal, most of who speak a traditional language.”[27] Price also indicated that she was concerned that the English-language dominance in the legislative chamber would “silence traditional Aboriginal Territorians … discouraging their involvement in political processes.”[28] A further response from the Speaker indicated that to have an interpreter or translator present would be to have a “stranger” in the House.[29] Remarkably, this was the same objection raised to having Māori interpreters in the New Zealand House of Representatives in 1868.[30]

By contrast, the Speaker who objected to Price’s spontaneous use of Warlpiri appeared content to allow Aboriginal members of Parliament to use Indigenous languages in symbolic settings, such as their opening address to Parliament.[31] The Speaker’s response is consistent with many of the early uses of Indigenous languages in Australian parliaments. For example, Indigenous languages were regularly used in a parliamentarian’s first speech.[32] On other occasions, a few words of an Indigenous language were used in acknowledgments or welcomes.[33] The parallels are obvious with the early New Zealand experience, where Māori could only be used in Parliament as a “language of ritual”.[34]

However recent advocacy by Indigenous parliamentarians in Australia, including Price, has resulted in positive developments. In the Northern Territory Legislative Assembly – where Price was almost ruled disorderly – the Standing Orders have been changed to allow interpreters to be present in the Chamber. Since the change, Indigenous parliamentarian Mark Yingiya Guyula has availed himself of an interpreter on a number of occasions to engage in substantive parliamentary debate.[35] In Western Australia, Indigenous parliamentarian Josie Farrer has also used an Indigenous language in substantive debate and provided her own translation.[36] These are admittedly isolated examples, but they are also historic achievements that may pave the way for more regular and widespread use of Indigenous languages in Australian parliaments. In New Zealand, the use of Indigenous languages in parliamentary debate is more thoroughly normalised and institutionalised as evidenced by the fact that simultaneous translation services have been offered in the House of Representatives since 2009.[37] Further, in New Zealand, parliamentarians have had a right to debate in Māori since the Standing Orders were amended in 1985.[38] By contrast, in Australia it is not yet clear whether the provision of interpreters in parliament merely confers a benefit or reflects an underlying right of parliamentarians to use Indigenous languages.

In summary, it appears that Māori and Australian Indigenous languages are becoming more than languages of ritual in parliamentary proceedings. Procedures are changing to make it more convenient for substantive parliamentary debate to occur other than in English. New Zealand appears to be well ahead of Australia, perhaps as a result of the recognition of Māori as an official language.[39] However, both countries still have a long way to go before Indigenous languages achieve parity with English in their parliaments.


There have been important recent developments in both New Zealand and Australia in the enactment of statutes in Indigenous languages. Before attending to these developments, however, it is helpful to discuss two other New Zealand phenomena which provide a background to the more recent events in that country. Those two phenomena are bilingual Crown-Māori agreements and Māori translations of English-language statutes.

The most celebrated of Crown-Māori agreements is, of course, the Treaty of Waitangi. The history of the drafting and signing of the Treaty of Waitangi – with all its complexities and controversies – is well documented. For present purposes, what is important to note is the bilingual nature of the document and many more Crown-Māori agreements. Professor R P Boast QC has noted that deeds of cession were “virtually always written in the Māori and English languages … and were usually the product of negotiations between Māori chiefs and Crown officials who could speak, and indeed write, Māori fluently”.[40] While these agreements, and the Treaty of Waitangi, are not statute law, they do form part of New Zealand’s constitutional tapestry and can properly be considered substantive law. Accordingly, they arguably provide a historical foundation for the passage of bilingual legislation, at least insofar as the show the capacity of the Māori language to express Western legal concepts.[41] As has already been noted, Australia does not have a similar early history of treaties or other agreements between the colonisers and the indigenous people. It is perhaps notable, however, that the two celebrated “Yirrkala Bark Petitions” of 1963 were fully bilingual, drafted in both English and the Gumatj language.[42] It must be acknowledged, however, that these petitions have no constitutional or statutory force.

A cursory study of New Zealand’s early colonial history might suggest that statutes were in fact enacted bilingually from the mid 1800s. A closer look reveals, however, that statutes were enacted in English and only occasionally translated and published bilingually. Parkinson explains that as early as 1840,[43] at least one legally binding proclamation was printed in Māori two days after it was made in English.[44] Statutes were distributed in Māori from 1858. In that year, the Native Districts Regulation Act 1858 and the Native Circuit Courts Act 1858, were printed and distributed in Māori in a pamphlet advertised in the Maori Messenger newspaper.[45] This was followed by what Parkinson describes as “haphazard” printing of statutes in Māori, early examples of which include the Native Land Act 1862, Native Lands Act 1865, Native Schools Act 1867, Maori Representation Act 1867 and the Timber Floating Act 1873.[46] Occasionally, digests or summaries of certain statutes, such as the Native Lands Frauds Prevention Act 1870, were printed and published in Māori.[47] However, by 1910, statutes were no longer even haphazardly published in Māori and, it appears, fewer and fewer Crown-Māori agreements were drafted bilingually.[48] Before passing on from this subject, it is important to note that, while the Māori versions of statutes were occasionally bound in official reports,[49] they were translations and would not have been considered authoritative.

The first Māori language in statutory enactments, rather than translations, was by the use of individual words.[50] For example, the term “whāngai” is used in substantive provisions in the Māori Land Act 1993, the Māori Land Court Rules 2011 and the Māori Fisheries Act 2004, and the term “tangata whenua” is used in the Families Commission Act 2003 and the Resource Management Act 1991. Similarly, in Australia, indigenous words have occasionally appeared in legislation for some time. In the state of Queensland, the term “Ailan Kastom” refers to a body of customs or traditions of the indigenous people of the Torres Strait Islands. This term appears in the Acts Interpretation Act 1984 (Qld), Housing Act 2003 (Qld), Human Rights Act 2019 (Qld), Powers of Attorney Act 1998 (Qld), Torres Strait Islander Cultural Heritage Act 2003 (Qld) and the Torres Strait Islander Land Act 1991 (Qld).[51]

A more significant development in both countries has been the use of extended passages of Māori and Australian Indigenous languages in statutory preambles and other symbolic legislative provisions. In New Zealand, this has often occurred in statutes passed after the settlement of Māori land claims.[52] Tai Ahu explains: “It has become standard, although not universal, practice for preambles, Crown apologies and acknowledgements to be translated in Maori and enacted alongside the English version.”[53] Very recently, Australia has followed suit by including Indigenous language preambles in a few statutes of particular symbolic importance to Indigenous people. So, for example, the Noongar (Koorah, Nitja, Boordahwan) (Past, Present, Future) Recognition Act 2016 (WA) formally recognised an Aboriginal group as the traditional owners of a particular area in south-western Australia. The Indigenous language text in that statute is included in a value-laden statement in a Schedule to the Act. Another statute passed in 2017 included an Indigenous language in the preamble.[54] A third example – a Bill including two different Indigenous language texts in the preamble – is currently pending in the Victorian Parliament.[55]

What Australia has not done, is pass a wholly bilingual statute. New Zealand only achieved this relatively recently, with the passage of the Te Ture mō Mokomoko (Hei Whakahoki I te Ihi, te Mana, me te Rangatiratanga), Mokomoko (Restoration of Character, Mana, and Reputation) Act 2013.[56] It may be hoped that Australia will again follow New Zealand’s lead in this respect.

Interpretative questions

An obvious issue raised by bilingual (or multilingual) legislation is how such legislation is to be interpreted, particularly by monolingual judges. Ahu has identified the pressing nature of this issue for New Zealand courts, writing: “the effectiveness of co-drafting relies on judges having a high degree of proficiency in both languages [in order to be able to interpret bilingual legislation]. Currently, very few judges of the New Zealand courts can speak Māori fluently.”[57] The ideal, of course, would be for judges to be fluent in Māori and thus to be better equipped to interpret the increasing number of bilingual statutes.[58] In the meantime, however, two possible approaches present for consideration.

The first option, suggested by Ahu, is that non-Māori speaking courts could refer Māori questions of interpretation to the Māori Appellate Court. Ahu has astutely observed that an analogous referral power is already contained in section 61 of the Te Ture Whenua Māori 1993, which allows the High Court to state a case to the Māori Appellate Court and for the latter to send back a certificate of opinion. Ahu suggests that the Interpretation Act 1999 could be amended to provide a more general referral power for questions of statutory interpretation involving Māori words.[59]

The second possibility is for the non-Māori speaking judge to hear expert evidence, and refer to dictionaries and other material, which would allow them to come to an informed opinion as to the meaning of the Māori statutory text. This approach was taken by Paterson J in the High Court in Te Waka Hi Ika o Te Arawa v Treaty of Waitangi Fisheries Commission, where his Honour had to consider the meaning of the word “iwi” in the Treaty of Waitangi (Fisheries Claims) Settlement Act 1992. His Honour cited House of Lords authority on bilingual interpretation,[60] and held that: “it is permissible to consider the dictionary meaning of that word, and it is also permissible … to take notice of appropriate historical, sociological, anthropological and etymological evidence.”[61] Paterson J’s approach was subsequently endorsed by the Court of Appeal and the Privy Council.[62] More recent authority and commentary confirms that the proper interpretative approach to Māori statutory text will depend on the statute in question, but may require reference to dictionaries, drafting materials and expert evidence.[63]

In Australia, Indigenous languages have only recently started to be used in any significant way in legislation and, accordingly, it does not appear that they have yet been considered in the case law. The High Court of Australia did, however, recently decide a case which required the interpretation of an international treaty in French and English.[64] The Court appears to have considered an expert translation of the French text. This suggests that when Australian courts are ultimately called upon to interpret Indigenous language statutory text, they will likely follow the approach of Paterson J in New Zealand of receiving expert evidence.


It can be seen that Australia has consistently emulated New Zealand in incorporating Indigenous languages into the lawmaking process. Surprisingly, this has occurred with very little explicit engagement between the two jurisdictions. It is hoped that, in the future, Australia might more directly look to the New Zealand experience for lessons. In particular, it is likely that Australian courts will soon be required to interpret indigenous-language legislation. New Zealand has been interpreting bilingual legislation for some time now (and has been interpreting the bilingual Treaty of Waitangi for decades). The New Zealand interpretative jurisprudence will provide a valuable resource for Australian courts to draw upon as they enter the brave new world of multilingual interpretation.


[1] Many thanks to Timothy Goodwin for collaborating on earlier work on this topic. See Timothy Goodwin and Julian R Murphy “Raised Voices: Parliamentary Debate in Indigenous Languages” (15 May 2019) AUSPUBLAW <https://auspublaw.org/2019/05/raised-voices-parliamentary-debate-in-indigenous-languages/>. For a wider comparison, drawing in experiences from Canada, South Africa and Wales, as well as New Zealand, see Julian R Murphy, “Legislating in Language: Indigenous Languages in Parliamentary Debate, Legislation and Statutory Interpretation” (2020) 43(3) UNSWLJ (forthcoming).

[2] Phil Parkinson “‘Strangers in the House’ – The Maori Language in Government and the Maori Language in Parliament – 1865–1900” (2001) 32(3) VUWLR Monograph 1 at 3.

[3] Parkinson, above n 2, at 7.

[4] See the Maori Representation Act 1867.

[5] Standing Orders of the House of Representatives 1865 discussed in Parkinson, above n 2, at 9–10.

[6] Parkinson, above n 2, at 11.

[7] Parkinson, above n 2, at 14.

[8] (6 September 1870) 9 NZPD 515 (Colonial Secretary, William Gisborne).

[9] Parkinson, above n 2, at 27–33.

[10] Parkinson, above n 2, at 14–18.

[11] Parkinson, above n 2, at 18.

[12] Māmari Stephens and Phoebe Monk “A Language for Buying Biscuits? Māori as a Civic Language in the Modern New Zealand Parliament” (2012) 16(2) AILR 70 at 72.

[13] Māmari Stephens “‘Tame Kākā’ Still? Māori Members and the Use of Māori Language in the New Zealand Houses of Representatives” (2010) 14 Law Text Culture 220 at 222–223.

[14] Parkinson, above n 2, at 14–18.

[15] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 71–72.

[16] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 72.

[17] David A Wishart “Contract, Oppression and Agreements with Indigenous Peoples” (2005) 28(3) UNSWLJ 780 at 791–792; Harry Hobbs and George Williams “The Noongar Settlement: Australia’s First Treaty” (2018) 40 Syd LR 1 at 22–23.

[18] Wishart, above n 17, at 781; Bain Attwood and Helen Doyle Possession: Batman’s Treaty and the Matter of History (Miegunyah Press, Melbourne 2009). Cf Robert Kenny “Tricks or Treats?: A Case for Kulin Knowing in Batman’s Treaty” (2008) 5(2) History Australia 38.

[19] Northern Territory, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 2 June 1981, 876 (Neil Bell).

[20] WEH Stanner The Dreaming and Other Essays (Black Inc, Melbourne, 2009) at 189.

[21] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 72.

[22] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 73.

[23] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 72.

[24] Stephens, above n 13, at 235–236.

[25] Northern Territory, Legislative Assembly, Parliamentary Debates, 3 December 2015, 7617 (Kezia Purick).

[26] Northern Territory, Legislative Assembly, Parliamentary Debates, 3 December 2015, 7617 (Kezia Purick).

[27] Letter from Bess Price (Minister for Local Government and Community Services) to Kezia Purick (Speaker of the Legislative Assembly) regarding the use of Indigenous languages in Parliament (12 February 2016).

[28]Price, above n 27.

[29] Letter from Kezia Purick (Speaker of the Legislative Assembly) to Bess Price (Minister for Local Government and Community Services) regarding the use of Indigenous languages in Parliament (13 February 2016).

[30] Parkinson, above n 2, at 14.

[31] Purick, above n 29.

[32] See, eg, Northern Territory, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 2 June 1981, 876 (Neil Bell); Commonwealth, Parliamentary Debates, Senate, 24 June 1998, 3979 (Trish Crossin); Commonwealth, Parliamentary Debates, Senate, 25 August 1999, 7771 (Aden Ridgeway); Northern Territory, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 11 September 2008, 163–4 (Alison Anderson).

[33] See, eg, Commonwealth, Parliamentary Debates, House of Representatives, 10 February 2016, 1171 (Malcolm Turnbull).

[34] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 72.

[35] Northern Territory, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 8 May 2019, 36 (Mark Guyula); Northern Territory, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 27 November 2019, 15 (Mark Guyula).

[36] Western Australia, Parliamentary Debates, Legislative Assembly, 28 June 2017, 1930 (Josie Farrer).

[37] L Smith “Launch of Simultaneous Interpretation in the House” (9 February 2010) New Zealand Parliament <https://www.parliament.nz/en/visit-and-learn/how-parliament-works/office-of-the-speaker/speeches/launch-of-simultaneous-interpretation-in-the-house/>.

[38] See Stephens and Monk, above n 12, at 74.

[39] Māori Language Act 1987; Te Ture mō Reo Māori, Māori Language Act 2016.

[40] R P Boast “Recognising Multi-Textualism: Rethinking New Zealand’s Legal History” (2006) 37 VUWLR 547 at 554.

[41] Thanks to the anonymous reviewer for assisting me to develop and qualify this claim. For a different account of the Treaty of Waitangi, which suggests that the drafting and negotiating process was reflective of oppressive power structures see Richard Dawson The Treaty of Waitangi and the Control of Language (Institute of Policy Studies, Wellington, 2001).

[42] For reproductions of the text of the petitions see Erin Walker “Yirrkala Bark Petitions” (2013) 8(7) ILB 33.

[43] An early significant legal text – although not a statute – is of course the Declaration of Independence of 1835, which was first published in Māori.

[44] Parkinson, above n 2, at 2 n.3.

[45] Parkinson, above n 2, at 4.

[46] Parkinson, above n 2, at 4–8, 12, 20. For a more comprehensive collection of early statutes published in Māori see: Legal Māori Project “He reo ture nō te Whare Paremata / Statutory Language” He Pātaka Kupu Ture Legal Māori Archive <http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/scholarly/tei-corpus-legalMaoriStatutory.html>.

[47] Parkinson, above n 2, at 20.

[48] Stephens and Monk, above n 12, 71.

[49] This commenced with the Acts affecting the native lands, Etc., (In English and Maori) passed by the General Assembly, session 1889 and continued up until the Acts affecting Native Lands Etc (in Maori), passed by the General Assembly, Session 1910. See the discussion in Parkinson, above n 2, at 36 n.112.

[50] See Arnu Turvey “Te Ao Māori in a ‘Sympathetic’ Legal Regime – The Use of Māori words in Statutes” (2009) 40 VUWLR 531.

[51] I would like to acknowledge the Office of the Queensland Parliamentary Counsel for drawing my attention to the legislative use of “Ailan Kastom”.

[52] See, eg, Ngāti Ruani Claim Settlement Act 2003; Ngāti Awa Claims Settlement Act 2005; Ngāti Tuwharetoa (Bay of Plenty) Claims Settlement Act 2005; Te Roroa Claims Settlement Act 2008; Waitaha Claims Settlement Act 2013. For examples of statutes with Māori preambles that do not relate to land settlements see Te Ture Whenua Māori 1993 and Maori Television Service (Te Aratuku Whakaata Irirangi Maori) Act 2003.

[53] Tai Ahu “Te Reo Māori as a Language of New Zealand Law: The Attainment of Civic Status” (LLM Dissertation, Victoria University of Wellington, 2012) 61.

[54] Yarra River Protection (Wilip-gin Birrarung murron) Act 2017 (Vic).

[55] Great Ocean Road and Environs Protection Bill 2019 (Vic).

[56] See Tai Ahu “New Zealand’s First Bilingual Statute – Does New Zealand Have an Appropriate Legal Framework?” (2014) March Māori LR. For subsequent bilingual statutes in New Zealand see Te Ture mō Reo Māori, Māori Language Act 2016; Te Pire kia Unuhia te Hara kai Runga i a Rua Kēnana, Rua Kēnana Pardon Act 2019.

[57] Ahu, above n 53, at 80.

[58] For a discussion of the important of judicial multilingualism (although not specific to Indigenous languages) see Matthew Shoemaker “Bilingualism and Bijuralism at the Supreme Court of Canada” (2012) 35(2) Canadian Parliamentary Review 30.

[59] Ahu, above n 53, at 80.

[60] Fothergill v Monarch Airlines [1981] AC 251 (HL) at 273–274.

[61] Te Waka Hi Ika O Te Arawa v Treaty of Waitangi Fisheries Commission [2000] 1 NZLR 285 (HC) at 327.

[62] Te Waka Hi Ika O Te Arawa v Treaty of Waitangi Fisheries Commission [2000] 1 NZLR 285 (CA) at 376 [204] (Keith, Blanchard and Tipping JJ). Cf 336 [22] (Gault J), 343 [63] (Thomas J). See also Te Waka Hi Ika o Te Arawa v Treaty of Waitangi Fisheries Commission [2002] 2 NZLR 17 (PC) at 27 [18].

[63] Perry v West [2004] NZFLR 515 (HC) at 522–526 [27]–[39]; Sydney v Sydney [2012] NZFC 2685 at [48]–[58]; Ross Carter Burrows and Carter: Statute Law in New Zealand (LexisNexis, Wellington, 5th ed 2015) at 148–154.

[64] Comptroller-General of Customs v Pharm-A-Care Laboratories Pty Ltd (2020) 94 ALJR 182 at 190–191 [30]–[37].

Author: Julian Murphy

Julian R Murphy is a PhD candidate at the University of Melbourne, School of Law, and holds an LLM from Columbia University, where he was a Human Rights Fellow.