When a driver was caught in Auckland traffic by a funeral procession of gang members, National’s police spokesman Mark Mitchell kicked off the outrage that gangs could “do what they wanted” because cops are “soft on crime”.
It’s been the National catchcry for its law-and-order campaign for the last 12 months, and most days catches a headline.
Gangs and beneficiaries are low-hanging fruit and used as political footballs when opposition parties need to up their presence in the news cycle.
Mitchell was right on one account: the procession nine days ago was a gang tangi. But what Mitchell was not aware of was the man being taken on his final journey had mana very few have to bring together all gang colours across the Tamaki Makaurau rohe.
That man was Black Power MG president Wiremu Knox (“Knockers”) Allen. His tangi was attended by thousands over the four days he lay in state in South Auckland.
Large numbers of rival gang members from the Mongrel Mob, King Cobras, Killer Beez and Hells Angels made the trek to the Black Power’s clubrooms at Ihumātao, Māngere. There they were greeted as whānau, then on to the nearby Makaurau Marae to pay their respects, while Knox’s gang whānau welcomed their rivals with spine-tingling haka.
Knox was a change agent, and he and other Black Power members were behind the Black Power claim to the Waitangi Tribunal about Abuse in Care - which is now the Royal Commission into State Care Abuse.
He earned the name Knockers (Knox) from his fighting prowess in the early years but later matured into a gentle giant who promoted peace between the gangs.
His long-time friend and gang kaumatua Denis O’Reilly said: “Knox was feared and respected in equal measure”.
Later in his life, with strong whānau support, the hardened warrior reflected and changed.
O’Reilly said Knox, whom he had known for decades, died of Hepatitis C, and wondered how in this day and age that can still happen.
“The protracted illness that led to his death was that silent killer of Māori men,” O’Reilly wrote in a tribute piece in E-Tangata magazine.
“If it’s diagnosed early enough, Hep C can be easily treated. But Māori men don’t check themselves for treatable diseases. And that may well be because many Māori men don’t love themselves enough to lead a healthy lifestyle.”
Knox, O’Reilly said, was traumatised by the beatings he copped at the Kohitere Boys’ Home after being taken in to state care. He grew up knowing no other sort of love, apart from the iron fist.
“It made him wonder if his parents, specifically his dad, didn’t really love him,” O’Reilly said.
But Knox’s story is not that of a lone child. That same storyline has been written for thousands of tamariki Māori taken into state care and taken far away from all cultural and or whānau korowai.
Even in poor Māori homes, karakia was at least a daily or weekly occurrence. But once locked up at boys’ homes, the only spirit guidance came by way of a leather strap for boys like Knox.
Knox (Ngāti Kahu from Matangirau in the Far North) told O’Reilly they were regularly stripped naked and beaten with a leather strap, usually by two male adults whose job was to dish out discipline.
“Knox described this outrageous treatment and said ‘I never got treated like that at home. Our parents never treated us like that’,” O’Reilly said.
He said those beatings were a driver for Knox to reach out to Māori legal scholar Moana Jackson to prepare a Black Power claim to the Waitangi Tribunal. That claim is the basis for the ongoing Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in State Care, due to finish next year.
O’Reilly, who read the eulogy at Knox’s tangi last week, said his friend wanted everyone attending, and others who would hear of his death, to respect each other, regardless of the colours on their backs.
“This is the legacy of Wiremu Knockers Allen: an immortality project in which his conceptual self will live on through the values that he has sowed among te whānau o te ringa kati: te aroha, te whakapono, te rangimarie,” O’Reilly said.
To finish off the eulogy that Knox helped prepare, O’Reilly told the mourners there was only one value which separated gang members from Boy Scouts and the Salvation Army.
“This value is ringa kaha: the preparedness to stand up physically to ensure the other values can flourish.
“I’m not promoting or endorsing violence, but the reality is that for the Whānau of the Fist, for the Blacks, just like the All Blacks, we must win the physical when required. We are who we are. We are tama toa, warriors.
“What do you think the ritual at the marae is all about with the karanga [call] followed by the wero [challenge by a warrior]? It’s not an invitation to do what you like.
“Some marae are too scared to allow people wearing patches on to their marae. Why is that? Well, generally it’s because previously people wearing patches have behaved disgracefully. And they have gone away unscathed because there were no warriors to protect their kaumatua and the mana of the marae. Do not tolerate disrespectful behaviour on marae.
“We have seen here at Tamaki Makaurau how warriors, even from seemingly opposing groups, are able to maintain their dignity and self-control and to enjoy that mutual respect that leaves each other’s mana intact. On this point it’s behaviours that count. Not colours, not what you wear. It’s not your get-up, it’s what you get up to.”