Josh Robinson (He/Him) - Ngāti Ranginui - describes the whakapapa of Māori resistance.

The whakapapa of Māori resistance is, perhaps, one of the strongest and influential links that exist between the calls of our tūpuna, the stories of our land, and the demands of our mokopuna.

It has been hard to ignore the rise in resistance efforts that has occurred in the wake of the coalition government. Though, despite this, at every hīkoi, every action day, and every submission writing workshop alike, we sit at the feet of mighty rangatira who laid the seeds of resistance to which we now sow.

The Māori protest movement has been effective in prompting legislative changes in Aotearoa. Whilst first focussing on the theft of land and economic upheaval thereafter, further resistance regarding the loss of culture and the preservation of language prompted great changes. These include those such as the introduction of the Māori Language Act 1987, and greater recognition of Te Tiriti o Waitangi. These achievements, although significant, are underscored by historic occupations which highlight conflicts in sovereignty. Such occupations are no less pressing today as they were when they occurred.

Counter proponents to this kaupapa have referred, incorrectly, to the apparent ‘Māori take-over,’ claiming that such statutory establishments should not defer power to Māori in a multicultural society.^[1] One key example of this is the introduction of tikanga into common law. However, as Justice Joe Williams tells us in his speech Too Far, Too Soon tikanga has already applied unproblematically to non-Māori for decades.^[2] Indeed, many of the first celebrated cases on tikanga did not involve Māori at all.^[3] In recent times, tikanga has been incorporated into many statutes, including the Resource Management Act 1991, and the Oranga Tamariki Act 1989, which apply to both Māori and non-Māori alike. ^[4]

However, due to the intergenerational effects of colonisation, it is not only a matter of political, but rather personal resistance that must be brought into being. It was ever thus that attending Te Herenga Waka would not only teach me of systems of oppression, but have it entrenched in the space around me; an institution built on Pākehā traditions, Latin phrases, colonial case law, all written in “Times New Roman.”

Resistance doesn't always look like protest. Rather, it can look like resilience, presence, and persistence. He toka tū moana is not just a metaphor, but a role each Māori law student, and indeed every marginalised group inhabits.

I hail from one of the most rural towns in Aotearoa, disconnected from my whakapapa for much of my life and shaped by the realities of poverty. In retrospect, having anchored myself to the ocean floor, withstanding disrupted water, I realised that in order to create change for other rangatahi, I  need to invoke tohi; to create my own wake. It is in these waters we wade that we must also always remember where we come from and how it has informed us.

These acts of resistance, personal and collective, do not exist in a vacuum. They inherit the mana from the likes of Hōne Heke, Te Whiti o Rongomai, and Whina Cooper. Their acts helped forge statutory change. The recognition of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, the establishment of the Waitangi Tribunal under the Treaty of Waitangi Act 1975, and even the ability for Māori to speak te reo in courts were not gifts from the Crown, rather concessions wrestled from it. This whakapapa of resistance is not just one of opposition, but creation. At first the law did not recognise us, until we made it.

Māori law students are successful in continuing this legacy. Not merely by partaking in large protests, but in study groups, submission workshops, Māori mooting, and advocating for students both on and off the campus.

It is the beckoning call of every rangatira who we give credence to for granting us this torch to pass, that we give these lessons to our mokopuna. Holding the kupu from our tūpuna while reshaping the system from within in the hopes that the wake of he toka might resonate downstream, until the wave subsides at last. But until then, we must create wakes, which become rapids, which will eventually become waterfalls.

Ngā kupu āpiti - Notes

^[1] Muriel Newman “Takeover by Stealth” (7 September 2024) New Zealand Centre for Political Research <www.nzcpr.com>.

^[2]  Joe Williams, New Zealand Supreme Court Justice “Too Far, Too Soon” (Wānanga on Tikanga and the Law 2023, 3 May 2023).

^[3] Williams, above n 2.

^[4] Williams, above n 2.

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