Hannah Nathan (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rereahu, Ngāti Mutunga, Ngāi Tahu) writes about whether right now is a moment equivalent to other defining periods in the Māori Renaissance and asks what should be done now.

I’ve often wondered how it might have felt to be Māori during the Māori Renaissance of the 70s, or what I would have felt during the Foreshore and Seabed marches (had I been older in 2004). Would I have felt the tides of change pushing around me? Would I have experienced the anger and aspiration? I wonder whether those who were there knew they were part of something significant. 

I’ve spent most of this year wondering whether we might be living in a moment like that right now. 

When New Zealand First campaigned on reviewing and limiting the scope of the Waitangi Tribunal, I didn’t take it very seriously. It’s been touted before. Besides, the Tribunal is an essential institution. I thought, “They can’t do that.” Yet Shane Jones continually (and incorrectly) tells the media that the Waitangi Tribunal is overstepping its jurisdiction by inquiring into contemporary issues of Government policy. Jones says he is looking forward to reviewing its scope. David Seymour has reacted similarly to the deluge of urgent claims the Tribunal is hearing under his Government by suggesting – threatening – that the Tribunal should be wound up for good. We can’t afford to not take this seriously. These threats become very real amidst the Government’s actions towards te Tiriti o Waitangi. This is a Government determined to ignore, redefine, and breach te Tiriti. They do not care about their obligations, the Tiriti principles, or the consequences of their actions for Māori. This Government won’t just threaten to disestablish the Tribunal; they would. 

The Tribunal is a constitutional cornerstone for Māori. It hears our stories and puts them to paper to hold the Government to account under te Tiriti o Waitangi. But it’s also a creature of statute, vulnerable to repeal, and this is something we need to pay more attention to. Us rangatahi weren’t here to experience the events that led to the passing of the Treaty of Waitangi Act. Many of us haven’t been raised in te ao Māori or in spaces centred around the mahi that led to the Tribunal being established. It is easy to take its creation and operation as a given. But to do so is to render it more vulnerable to legislative erasure. Our job, as we continue to push back against the Government’s ongoing attack on te Tiriti, is to remember the mahi that went into creating the Tribunal. Our job is to return to what was before us so that we can continue that mahi and protect it. 

The creation of the Waitangi Tribunal in 1975 fell within a period of growing Māori resistance and political activation against ongoing land alienation and social and economic disparities for Māori. While the Treaty of Waitangi Bill was being debated, people marched from Te Hāpua led by Dame Whina Cooper of Te Rōpū Matakite o Aotearoa. The hīkoi was a result of generations of anger and frustration. Under Cooper’s organisation, mana, and bravery, Māori of all ages and backgrounds came together under one call, “Not one more acre.” Cooper’s hīkoi brought Māori resistance into the public eye and is frequently cited as the political catalyst for the establishment of the Tribunal. 

Inside Parliament, it was Matiu Rata, Minister of Māori Affairs, who introduced the Treaty of Waitangi Bill. Following in the footsteps of Sir Apirana Ngata, he knew that politics was more than just a game. It was real, “[I]t was on the streets, and it represented the means of getting … into a new opportunity.”^[1] In his three years as Minister he not only elevated the status of te Tiriti and established the Tribunal, but also reformed Māori land policies and initiated significant shifts towards the protection of te reo Māori. His mahi was continued by Koro Wetere, the Minister of Māori Affairs from 1984. It was Wetere who extended the jurisdiction of the Tribunal to hear claims relating to Crown action and omissions from 1840, which facilitated all historical claims. He also implemented the requirement that a certain number of Tribunal members be Māori, which he steadfastly defended against allegations of racist bench stacking. Rata and Wetere helped shape the Tribunal into what it is today, but for this they were belittled, undervalued, and mocked by Members of the House. While their names are not spoken in the same sentences as Ngata, Carroll, Durie or Cooper, they were essential strands in the whakapapa of the Tribunal. 

These are far from the only important names. They’re a starting point to reflect on the mahi that was put into creating a Tribunal to hold the Crown to account. What do we do now?

We remember, recognise, and continue the work. We are diverse rangatahi with different strengths and experiences. I often struggle with the tension between feeling deeply connected yet disconnected from Māoridom without my reo. But instead of letting that be a limitation, I want to call on all tauira Māori to instead reflect on what they do have, and to use it. The diversity of our experiences is what enriches us collectively. The land march brought together young activists, kaumātua, and kuia, those who had spent lifetimes fighting the Crown, and those who were being politicised one step at a time down the motu. Movements like these were built on joining together the perspectives and strengths of all Māori. No matter what stage we’re at in our journeys, all of us need to pick up the work of those who passed before us to protect the Waitangi Tribunal. No one can fight the Crown alone. Everyday I see the flames of resistance in my students, peers, and teachers. We each have something to bring. Only together do we have enough to fight for the Tribunal and te Tiriti o Waitangi under this Government. 

Ngā kupu āpiti - Notes

[1] Tiopira McDowell “‘Ke Hoki a Kupe?’ The Political Career of Matiu Rata, 1963-1979” (2015) 49 New Zealand Journal of History 105 at 107.

Author: Guest Author

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