Alistair Reese: Embrace the Treaty gains

Two disparate voices have pointed to Pakeha embracing the All Black haka as an identification of significance.

Colin James in his weekly column (in the print edition of the Herald) and Hone Harawira in his maiden parliamentary speech have identified the Te Rauparaha/All Black haka as an example of shared identity, and Harawira has suggested that the Treaty could be embraced in a similar way.

Some would suggest that he is drawing a long bow, but surely it is a question of vision - the ability to see a particular landscape not as it is but as it could be.

It would be a tragedy of significant proportions if the gains made through Treaty settlements over the past 30 years were not embraced by non-Maori. But that is a possibility, especially if the corporate voice expressed last year at Orewa gains momentum.

This perspective that wants to minimise the influence of the Treaty is one that is formed not necessarily from an entrenched racial bias, although this tendency is probably innate to all. Rather it is formed through an ignorance that comes from distance.

The rugby haka, as a symbol of national unity, is performed in the midst of an activity that unites the two cultures like few others. Through usage by all New Zealanders, against the backdrop of success by the All Blacks, it is something that has become a part of our psyche - evidenced especially by those on their OE or by sports representatives, who resort to either Te Rauparaha's Ka mate or Pokarekare Ana as demonstrations of their identity.

There is nothing wrong with this, because these are expressions of the land that are unique to Aotearoa. They are infinitely more powerful as anthems than Waltzing Matilda. But the performance of these iconic symbols doesn't necessarily translate into identification with their indigenous source upon return home.

Returning to the gains of the past 30 years, one has the feeling that the findings of the Waitangi Tribunal and the consequent reparations and apologies from the Government have been embraced by Maori, but at best only tolerated by most Pakeha.

Governments of the day have succeeded in eventually addressing issues relating back to 1840, and given the apparent views of the many, if not a majority, this can only be described as almost miraculous.

These years of reparation have presented a marvellous opportunity for healing and reconciliation that could lay the foundation for Colin James' appealing suggestion of a one-country culture rather than the one-culture country Orewa proponents would intend. There are no prizes for guessing what that one-culture should be.

The challenge to incorporate a bi-cultural foundation is undoubtedly great. It is especially challenging to those who are traditionally mono-lingual.

The irony about the mono-lingual tendencies of many New Zealanders is that it doesn't seem to extend towards the cultures of the Mediterranean; familiarity with these is seen as a sign of cultural sophistication. Correct pronunciation of French and Italian words, scattered throughout our vocabulary, and the knowledge of vintage and provincial culinary idiosyncrasies, are usually lauded.

There is no reason why identification with the Treaty cannot in time evoke similar feelings of enthusiasm as the haka or the latest Beaujolais vintage.

The key is a willingness to reach beyond the safety of one's own cultural boundary in this land. Maori have done this, not always on a voluntary basis, but they are better equipped at this stage than most Pakeha to traverse the complexities of a Treaty based nationhood.

Who knows, the recent references to Te Rauparaha's haka, which speaks of death and rebirth, may be prophetic statements about the Treaty itself. They may also provide for some Pakeha an insight that identification with tangata whenua is not something to be feared but a gift to be treasured.

* Alistair Reese is a Bay of Plenty orchardist and farmer working on a master's thesis on the impact of land and language alienation upon a small Maori community.