Last week I had the privilege of attending a hui called by the Māori Queen Nga Wai Hono i te Po, held at Maketū marae in Kāwhia, to reflect upon the future of te taiao, the living world.
This marae, which stands on the edge of the Kāwhia harbour, must be one of the most beautiful in New Zealand.
Everyone who attended that hui, and those who spoke during the gathering, cared deeply about te taiao, working to ensure that in our landscapes, land, water, plants, animals and people can live well together, and thrive for future generations.
Te Arikinui Nga Wai Hono i te Po is just 29, and wise beyond her years. She said little, but listened intently.
In a speech she gave recently to a gathering of indigenous leaders, however, she evoked the history of the Kīngitanga, the King movement, quoting the sayings of her ancestors, Potatau and Tawhiao, the first and second Māori kings, to reflect on contemporary challenges.
At his coronation in 1858, Te Arikinui noted, Potatau told his people, ‘Kotahi te kōhao o te ngira e kuhuna ai te miro mā, te miro pango, me te miro whero’ – ‘There is just one eye of the needle through which the white thread, the black thread and the red thread must pass.’
Pākehā, Māori and others were now living in the land, and they must work together to find a good future. In echoing his words, Te Arikinui reinforced his message: “Despite our differences, for a greater purpose, we can and we must come together.”
When Tawhiao was crowned in 1860, she said, war was breaking out in Taranaki. After fighting and confiscations that left his people reeling, he comforted them by saying, ‘E kore tēnei whakaoranga e huri ki tua o aku mokopuna. Māku anō e hanga tōku nei whare. Ko ngā poupou he māhoe, he patatē, ko te tāhuhu he hīnau.’
‘This way of life will not endure beyond my grandchildren. I will build my own house. The posts will be mahoe and patatē, and the ridgepole will be hinau.’ Although the materials he had at hand were not perfect, he would build his own house for future generations.
After these reflections on the past, Nga Wai Hono i te Po turned her gaze to present times, and the future: ‘I see a world where the load on land, water and natural resources is growing. I see a world where climate change is no longer a future concern, but a harsh and present reality, especially for my people. I see authority being tested, commitments narrowed, agreements revisited.’
At the same time, she observed, ‘I see indigenous peoples standing firmly in the truth of who we are. I see a growing recognition that the systems we have relied on are reaching their limits. The economies built on taking without renewing exhaust both the land and its people. This is not new knowledge. Our accountability to those not yet born is not just tradition. It is governance.’
This was a remarkable speech, realistic, full of hope, delivered with reflection and grace. Who in Parliament, I wondered, could give this kind of address – or anything like it?
Two days later in Parliament, when Winston Peters joined in a debate in which his judgment was questioned, the contrast was stark, and telling. Now 81, Peters has been an MP, a minister and an Acting Prime Minister since 1978 (bar three terms voted out, 1981-84, 2008-11 and 2020-23). He is currently the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
He is also of a very different generation from Nga Wai Hono i te Po, born before the renaissance of the 1970s and 1980s transformed te ao Māori. Since that time kohanga reo, kura kaupapa and whare wānanga have schooled thousands of young people, including Te Arikinui, in te reo and ancestral ways of thinking.
During that debate, when Peters made highly critical comments about New Zealand’s response to the Covid epidemic, Dr Lawrence Xu-Nan asked him if he was vaccinated. Peters retorted, “I noticed you came here five minutes ago. Go back to your own country – that’s where they lie like a flatfish, but they don’t lie like that here, all right? This is called a democracy. Go back to where you’ve come from, you loudmouth.”
These and similar xenophobic remarks about Chinese and Indian migrants reflect a very different philosophy about how to live together in this country than that advocated by Potatau and Te Arikinui: “Despite our differences, for a greater purpose, we can and we must come together.”
Their philosophies work in practice. Watch this video of New Zealand’s Secondary Students choir, competing in an international competition two weeks ago, and see the joy on their faces as young Kiwis from a wide range of ethnicities sing in te reo together. It sends a chill down your spine. Fantastic.
Instead of this kind of celebration, the coalition Government is showing an uncommon meanness of spirit, doing everything it can to turn back the advances made during the Māori renaissance.
Its denial of shared humanity goes well beyond ethnicity and cultural difference to the poor, the disabled, the unemployed and the homeless, and even our own children, as the latest report on child poverty demonstrates.
As the New Zealand Herald’s editorial laments, “The wretchedness compounds. Poorer nutrition; lower education outcomes; compounding harm through health issues; worse mental health in a country that already ranks third in the world for child and adolescent suicide rates; homelessness; and ultimately, less economic growth … New Zealand is ranking high in all the wrong places.”
This wretchedness extends even to our beautiful islands. Day by day, act by act, the Government is working to degrade the landscapes we live in. As Te Arikinui observes, “The systems we have relied on are reaching their limits. Economies built on taking without renewing exhaust both the land and its people.”
Like many other New Zealanders, I despair of the quality of leadership we are offered in Parliament at present. The political system seems mindlessly destructive, often nasty, and devoid of vision. Party politics seems trivial, and pointless.
Outside Parliament, however, and among younger people, it’s a different story.
Leaders like Te Arikinui are a beacon of hope. She is exceptional, but others like her are among those standing in the next election. Opportunity offers fresh ideas, for instance, and leaders from a new generation, not yet scarred by the parliamentary system.
Democratic reform is necessary, and urgent. Parliament must be a place where our brightest and best can thrive, and that serves the people, not elites and corporations.
Citizens’ assemblies, devolution of resources and power to local communities, including hapū, and controls on lobbying and political donations are long overdue. These are top priorities for my vote in the next election.
Voting for short-term monetary gain does not work. It generates a failing economy and an impoverished society. It’s time to stop being selfish and short-sighted, take a long hard look in the mirror, and vote for a good future for our children and grandchildren.
As Te Arikinui reminds us, without them, there’s no future at all.
