Matthew Wright: Two Peoples, One Land; The New Zealand Wars

Matthew Wright

Few periods in any national history have been picked over, sifted through and reported on as thoroughly as New Zealand's 19th century. The reasons are that this is a small, compact country with a highly literate population, and the 19th century was the crucible in which modern New Zealand was formed.

The national research resources are considerable, but the task of turning official documents, personal letters, diaries, family histories, newspaper and magazine articles and books by amateur historians into a coherent story had to wait until midway through the 20th century because until then the focus of national attention was mostly on British history. Instead, a sentimental and mythologised version of our civil war prevailed.

Since then scholars, starting with Keith Sinclair, have been digging into primary sources and trying to recount with accuracy what happened during that boisterous century of prolonged confrontation among Maori, settlers and the British Government over the issues of sovereignty and land.

This latest contribution by historian and prolific author Matthew Wright concentrates on the battles but does try to put the war between the races, as well as the internecine strife among Maori, into their full social and political context. He succeeds: it is solidly researched, briskly written, and brimming with information, including colourful personal detail.

While he doesn't pretend to cover every skirmish in the clash of cultures, Wright's examination of causes and effects is comprehensive and ranges from Abel Tasman's attempt to land at Golden Bay in the 17th century through the major battles of the 1860s to the "war by proxy" of politics, the Government's shameful behaviour at Parihaka and the Dog Tax rebellion of 1898.

But it also, to its detriment I believe, fires salvoes in what I call the "historian wars" (or maybe "squabbles") that have heated up since James Belich offered his version of the 19th century battles.

Wright sets the scene with an excellent introduction, noting that "fighting was one expression of much wider forces, reflecting our history and identities at many levels, helping shape New Zealand in general and the course of race relations in particular. Perhaps for this reason the period has seized our imagination, [been] analysed and re-analysed, filmed as fact and fiction, even rendered in novels."

But he also fires his first shots in the historian wars when he discusses "revisionism". Get this: "The most influential revisionist military theory was quickly shown to have serious technical problems. And although the revisionist version did attract autodidactic attention, with its uncritical translation and partisan source data, the more informed military counter-arguments reflected something more than what one general history classified as the 'chipping away' of 'iconoclasts'."

This demonstrates that wherever - and it's not often enough to damage the book seriously - Wright takes part in the war among historians he doesn't approach issues directly. He resorts to generalisations, his writing deteriorates into confusion and he indulges his penchant for using big words unnecessarily, and sometimes inaccurately.

This is not marketed as a treatise but as a book written for general readers, so the use of the term "revisionist" instead of direct confrontation with Belich's texts and the issues under examination will confuse most readers. When a writer argues a case he should clearly state what he is arguing against. Also, he says "revisionist" is a term now used by academics, but it can't shed its old commissar taint.

Let me look at a few of the issues. One battle in the history wars is over Maori military engineering and whether it was in some ways unique and set trends followed during the World War I, as James Belich said. Wright explains that he thinks Maori trenches, dugouts and palisade structure were brilliantly innovative but not new and had little or no bearing on the future of trench warfare. The consensus among military historians certainly favours Wright's view, so why doesn't he just put his case plainly?

Another issue raised by Belich is whether British troops and settlers exaggerated Maori casualties after battles which Maori had won to make the victories seem pyrrhic. Wright is mostly balanced about this but then is suddenly, unnecessarily, snide. Discussing the siege of Puketutu, he says, "Maning thought only 28 Maori had been killed, a figure that appealed to revisionist historians".

Another issue is whether Maori inflicted major defeats on British troops through the brilliance of their preparation and tactics or by accident. This always depends on the historian's interpretation of data. Belich tends towards Maori calculation and Wright less so, but that doesn't mean he disparages Maori courage and skill. These and other points are interesting and should be dealt with openly.

One other thing. Two Peoples, One Land is engrossing, so I am sorry it has not been better designed and formatted with readers in mind. The A4 size is cumbersome, with a lot of smallish type over large pages.

The cover, which is a book's packaging, is exceptionally dull.

Small things loom large when they detract from a book that is otherwise a gripping read and a major contribution to our knowledge of what made us as a nation.

* Published by Reed Publishing (NZ), $40.