In April 2000, 100 carefully selected VIPs assembled for two days at Parliament to take part in a conference called "Building the Constitution".
Prime Minister Helen Clark opened the hui but pointed out it was not "elitist". Ahem. With invitees including two former Governors-General, several Maori leaders, numerous knights of the realm, a Court of Appeal judge, and assorted Parliamentarians and academics, it hardly represented your average Kiwi.
Richard Prebble accused academic Raj Vasil of "promoting apartheid" because he presented a paper suggesting New Zealand be divided into four provinces and one given to Maori for self-government. I'd say it was more like promoting ignorance but in these modern times when academics can float any barmy notion in the name of research, I'm just kind of proud that I don't have tertiary qualifications.
Organised to "shape the national debate on constitutional change in New Zealand", the conference was described as a failure (by political commentators) and a success (by the attendees).
But, despite wailing from the usual conservatives, the conference didn't bring down democracy.
Six years on and most of us have forgotten the talkback calls from Chicken-Lickens terrified that the Treaty of Waitangi would become our founding constitution.
All is well in Godzone. Our head of state is still Queen Elizabeth. We don't live in the People's Republic of Aotearoa. Our president is not Margaret Wilson.
But perhaps one focus of the conference has made some progress - our national identity.
"He iwi kotahi tatou," said Governor Hobson 166 years ago when the Treaty of Waitangi was signed - "we are all one people".
We weren't then. We weren't in 2000. And long may we always remain individuals but while researching a recent story on Maori and Pakeha relations, I realised that New Zealanders have moved a long way in terms of developing our own unique identity. We're shaking off our cultural cringe, the "overseas expert" syndrome and the obligation to be "multi-cultural" - whatever that means.
Power is no longer wielded by the archetypal white, bleeding-heart liberal, talking about "Mowdidom" with a plum in his mouth, wearing 10kg of greenstone over his suit and tie and apologising for his colonial oppressor ancestors. Most Maori, if you care to ask them, are irritated by this patronising cant.
As are Pakeha. My mother's lived in Rotorua for more than 30 years and speaks Maori. When she rings the local council and is greeted with "kia ora" she responds in the same language, asking them how they are doing and telling them to whom she wishes to speak. Silence.
Many of us railed against paying for interpreters in Parliament, having Maori translations on every piece of official letterhead (such as the deliciously appropriate Te Tari Taake for Inland Revenue) and silently fumed at endless powhiri in halls at school prizegiving ceremonies.
But Maori is an official language of New Zealand and we can hardly claim our lives have been permanently blighted because of it.
In fact, aside from the nutcases who think the true tangata whenua are Chinese, Phoenicians, or Celts because they really were here before Maori, most New Zealanders accept Maori were unfairly treated.
We may disagree about how wrongs should be righted but at least as we head into Waitangi Day 2006, we're not scared to have honest and open debate.
In 1989, the late Justice Paul Temm told an NZ Law Society Seminar that what we have going for us is "the extraordinary patience of Maori New Zealanders and the tremendous sense of fairness of Pakeha New Zealanders".
"It is reasonable to say that when New Zealanders know what the facts are, they always try to do what is fair," he said.
"One of our difficulties is that Maori New Zealanders know the facts of our history because they and their families have lived through them. Pakeha New Zealanders are generally unaware of Maori complaints and frequently show their lack of knowledge by asking somewhat plaintively 'what's the Maori on about'?"
For such a pompous fellow, Temm made quite a bit of sense but the ignorance he referred to is no longer widespread. In fact, Pakeha New Zealanders could turn and ask the likes of Temm; "what's the elite on about?"
We're growing up. Sure, we still have prejudices, pronounce judgments, refuse to be ridiculously tolerant, and remain opinionated.
But Pakeha can stop confusing politeness with cowardice and Maori no longer need to be viewed as the victim.
And that's no thanks to the politicians and academics who love organising everyone - it makes them feel important, after all.
No doubt some new MP will organise another such conference and the all usual pundits will be invited to debate highfalutin constitutional matters. Heads will nod politely in unison.
Meanwhile, out in the heartland, away from the rarified air of the Parliament Buildings, people just get on with each other.
- HERALD ON SUNDAY
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