Ahikaroa is one of the shows that has showcased Whakaata Māori television network's commitment to bilingual programming.
Ahikaroa is one of the shows that has showcased Whakaata Māori television network's commitment to bilingual programming.
As Whakaata Māori marks its 20th anniversary, Karl Puschmann looks back at how the broadcaster changed the Aotearoa television landscape for the better.
Twenty years ago today, or to be more culturally appropriate to this story, rua tekau years ago today, Whakaata Māori began broadcasting in Aotearoa.
Ithad been a decade-long battle to get the station off the ground and on the air, decades-long if you trace the roots of the fight to get te reo officially recognised in New Zealand. In 1986, the Waitangi Tribunal ruled that yes, te reo Māori was a taonga (treasure) and five years later, in 1991, the Crown accepted its contractual obligations under the Treaty of Waitangi to preserve te reo.
Predictably, the idea of a Māori television channel became a political football. Te reo books, it was argued by opponents, would be a better investment in the widespread uptake of the language. Because we all know how families like to relax together in the evening gathered around a good book.
Nevertheless, the ball had started rolling and eventually found itself in the back of the net. Māori Television, as it was called before its rebrand in 2022, would be entirely government-funded under its obligations to the Treaty of Waitangi. It would operate under a simple remit; protect and promote te reo Māori and inform, educate and entertain a broad audience.
At the time, the state didn’t particularly bother with the former, aside from a couple of off-peak news programmes whose influence did not match its audience, and it needed two whole channels to accomplish the latter three tasks. Yet, these were the expectations lumped on Whakaata Māori before going on air.
If there were any apprehensions about fulfilling these lofty KPIs, viewers wouldn’t have noticed. There had been a solid 10 months of preparation for launch. And even though this period was not without scandal and hiccups, when the time came, the channel was ready. Bright and early at 6am on the dot on March 28, 2004, it was go time.
Writer and director Coco Solid created the animated comedy series Aroha Bridge. Photo / Todd Karehana
Early bird viewers tuning into the station for the first time were greeted with a loud humming which gave way to a live karakia. To slightly paraphrase a popular saying, Māori Television literally launched with hope and a prayer.
That morning, an estimated 2000 people turned up at the station’s HQ in the heart of Auckland’s swanky shopping suburb Newmarket to mark the occasion, including then Prime Minister Helen Clark.
Helen Clark, who in 2004 was New Zealand Prime Minister, at the launch of Whakaata Māori (then called Māori Television), with Dr Huirangi Waikerepuru (Taranaki, Ngāpuhi), right.
“It’s been a long journey, but we’ve finally reached the destination!” she enthused. “From today, New Zealand has for the first time a serious, well-funded television channel which reflects the language, the culture, the heritage, the perspectives and the aspirations of Māoridom. In doing that, it also celebrates our maturing as a nation, celebrating our diversity and our uniqueness.”
Not everyone was celebrating the birth. National’s then Māori Affairs spokesman Gerry Brownlee begrudgingly acknowledged that the preservation of te reo Māori was “highly important” but in the same breath harrumphed that he was “not convinced that a $45 million television station is the answer”.
Two decades on, it’s safe to assert that Whakaata Māori was, in fact, a large part of the answer. Not only did the channel normalise the everyday use of te reo, it also restored its mana. For the first time, Māori could see their culture, aspirations, concerns and humour reflected on screen no matter what time of day; morning, noon, after school, and, crucially, during prime time.
Māori could finally see themselves.
Te Ao with Moana host Moana Maniapoto, who works to shine a light on indigenous peoples’ truth. Photo / Michael Craig
With this in mind, it’s no coincidence the channel changed its name to Whakaata Māori, which translates as to mirror, reflect or display Māori. It cannot be overstated the impact this had, not only for Māori but also for Pākehā, who increasingly flocked to the channel, and later its streaming platform, as the years progressed.
Due to its mandate, Whakaata Māori had an envious amount of locally produced shows in every genre you could name. Many became break-out hits. What they may have lacked in budget, they more than made up for with enthusiasm, entertainment value and relatability.
We’re talking shows like Coco Solid’s award-winning animated series Aroha Bridge, the reality competitive dating show Game of Bros, Anika Moa’s essential, irreverent talk show All Talk with Anika Moa, the glitzy 20–somethings drama Ahikāroa, a reboot of the beloved game show It’s in the Bag, the hilarious mockumentary series Find Me a Māori Bride, the long-running current affairs show Native Affairs and Moana Maniapoto’s increasingly important Te Ao with Moana, which has gone viral several times with her razor-sharp political interviews that have left Christopher Luxon and David Seymour squirming in their seats. Not to mention their celebrated and respectful live coverage of the Anzac Day dawn service memorial each year.
Anika Moa and Paul Casserly put together the chat show All Talk with Anika Moa, in 2016.
If only TVNZ could be saddled with the same commitment to getting New Zealanders and New Zealand stories on screen without the constant need for commercial returns.
But it hasn’t all been hangi and haere mai. Whakaata Māori has not been without scandal throughout its history. It suffered severe growing pains before maturing into what it is today. But the same can be said about any of our major broadcasters or publications. What matters is how problems were dealt with, resolved and learned from.
Given its broadcasting obligations, the channel could have easily double-downed and segregated itself. Fortunately for Aotearoa, its vision was bigger than that. It demonstrated the welcoming nature of Māori culture, opting to showcase Māori but embrace all.
The cast from bilingual drama series Ahikāroa.
The majority of its shows are bilingual, which allows everybody in and shows how effortlessly te reo and English can co-exist. It’s an approach that’s working with the latest numbers showing a year-on-year increase of 11 per cent and an average monthly TV audience of 1.1 million viewers and 369,500 streaming its shows online.
Whakaata Māori may have been set up to reflect Māori but today, 20 years on, it is ever closer to reflecting all of us and a vision of how unified Aotearoa can truly be.
