Race: The way ahead: The Jones boys see eye to eye

Pakeha radicalised


Lloyd Jones, Writer

My whakapapa is brief. It begins with my mother's risky blind date with a man who had just ridden in from the goldfields. One was an orphan, the other was adopted - neglect was probably the other thing they had in common, along with a lack of education and worldliness. There was no history. No grandparents. No talk of another place.

There was never any question as to where my home was. This hastily put together neighbourhood was my home. And I loved it, the smell of tar, and the green smell. The secular godliness of the playing field, its pleasing shape and lines, the goalposts. I loved the sea and the dark hills. Whenever Maori speak of a special spiritual connection with the land I know exactly what they mean; I feel the same. Just like everyone else, I suspect.

To this skinny blond-haired kid growing up in the 50s and 60s, those streets, those solid brick houses, those gorse-covered hills felt like they might have stood for 1000 years.

Looking back at that barefoot kid, I was the perfect, even over-qualified citizen of this new society, the made society. The infrastructure, the ideas and belief system up and running with the arrival of my generation. In the made society everyone would be equal, no one would be poor, but not many would be rich either. Instead, everyone would be entitled to a fair go.

If ever you need to reassure yourself what it is to be a New Zealander, look to the language. Turangawaewae (home ground). This is a Pakeha concept as well. So is whakapapa. A fair go. This is also a Maori concept.

A fair go is such a simple phrase. If I think of New Zealand as having one noble sentiment, this is it. A fair go for everyone. It's a piece of pub language that legislators can make sense of and be guided by. It is the most valuable resource this country has.

It is the same trait that has enabled Pakeha New Zealand to take a deep breath and look into a past littered with land confiscations. The same trait has enabled the country to say, okay, then, let's put this thing right.

Pakeha disquiet is another phrase I quite like. You'd never hear it said in a pub or in a footy crowd. But, as a phrase, disquiet draws attention to the Pakeha wince, the drawn mouth as indignities are heaped on the office of the Prime Minister at Waitangi or when mud is thrown at the Leader of the Opposition, or of yet another high-profile case involving Maori misappropriation of public funds.

Yet, for all that disquiet, is there another group in our society that has been more radicalised than Pakeha? I don't think so. Especially those Pakeha who took up the perfectly reasonable challenge thrown down by Maori: hey brother, we know how to live in your world but do you know how to live in ours?

In my adult life I can point to two moments of trauma for Pakeha. The first came after Britain gave us up for entry into the Common Market. Suddenly we were tossed out of the house and into the world to find our own way. It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to us.

The second and more traumatic event arrived during the re-structuring by the Lange Government. At some point in the mid-1980s, there was a political and cultural coup. It seemed to happen by stealth. One morning we woke to discover we were living in a bicultural society. Suddenly, among all the other changes, every playcentre in the country would need to acknowledge the Treaty of Waitangi in its charter.

Biculturalism was in part a bid to answer the question that had lingered since Norman Kirk made the, at the time, astounding observation: Listen up everyone, we are a Pacific nation. But for Pakeha what did that mean exactly? Biculturalism offered a map and a set of instructions on how to proceed. Initially, for this Pakeha, it was to feel shackled by something that didn't quite feel right. Go back and read the first paragraph and you might understand my scepticism at learning that the treaty legitimised my right to be here. The coup also set up a bilateral arrangement between Pakeha and Maori. It required that Maori be kept in the loop on just about every matter needing public transaction. More provocatively, Maori, as tangata whenua, were positioned higher in the sandhills. Pakeha would be forever struggling ashore, forever arriving, without ever quite achieving arrival.

Don Brash's attack on race-based policy has been described as a lightening rod, but to what exactly? A shot in the arm for the redneck element, as some critics would have us believe? To be charged as racist for wanting to end race-based policy is ridiculous on first reading. But it also shows how far we've come from that earlier nation-building notion of everyone deserving a fair go.

The fact is, we're not equal. Never have been. All governments are in the business of social engineering. Now, let's call race-based policy by its proper name - positive discrimination, or giving a particular disadvantaged group a fair go.

Let's not dress it up in the language of past grievance and injustice. Pakeha, I suspect, are exhausted by the morality play that casts Maori as the good guys undone by Pakeha muskets, disease and greed. Whatever Pakeha do it is never enough.

Pakeha are forever the villains. Maori fill the jails (Pakeha's fault). Maori die young (again, it's the Pakeha fault). Maori suffer poor diet and smoking-related diseases (Pakeha's fault). The left will blame institutionalised racism. The right will say the past is no excuse, that it's up to the individual to break the mould and get off their bum. Pakeha fatigue is, I suspect, behind the sudden rise of support for Dr Brash.

Wellington's Cuba St Carnival last weekend showed our society at its best. Young Pakeha danced to Polynesian bands; the Pollies were down the other end of the street dancing to white hip-hop bands.

Foodstalls were run by Chinese, Indians, Mexicans, clothes stalls run by Maori, Pakeha, Africans. No one really looked twice at difference, yet difference is what made the occasion so wonderful. We are no longer culturally confined by where we live. This is the Pacific nation, as Kirk might have imagined.

This is the future. Bring it on. Kia ora.

Maori seek balance

Shane Jones, Chairman, Te Ohu Kaimoana

I got a call from my mate in Auckland the other day. He was reminding me to pay his bill. Of course I agreed. For a bit of fun I added, "Buddy, just a little longer, hang in there and my treaty claim will be solved".

A barrage of spluttering and spitting came down the Nokia which went something like this: "Actually I want it before my superannuation. Anyway Jonesy, you and the iwis, your number is up. You blokes up north gave Aunty Helen a bashing, now we are going to give you a Brashing."

After chatting about the upcoming Warriors season and cousin Stacey Jones, he moved on. Well, I've heard from my Pakeha proxy, no need to tune into talkback land.

Soon after, I got another call from the chairman of my iwi trust board. He sails into me about our Muriwhenua treaty claim. Will it happen or will it wither under Don Brash?

As is the prerogative of a chairman, he cuts to the chase. "E mara, me aha e tatou te korokee nei a Brash, me hongi, me hangi ranei? [What are we to do about this fellow Brash - should we hongi him or hangi him?]" From one chairman to another, I recognise this is not the time for idle fun, so I reassure him, "Tukua kia pahupahu, taro ake nei, ka tee. [Let him sound off, it will pass.]"

Mirth follows and we trade stories about his mokopuna, fishing trips and take a bet as to whether Troy Flavell will be an All Black this year. Hardly the conversation of people stressing out over the supposed political polarisation of New Zealand.

Maori don't want polarisation, with the exception of diehard sovereignty protesters. With them it is an ideological habit. Fortunately for the whanau the ideology is a bit like the habit worn by a nun. Only a tiny minority use it. They do serve a function however and constantly challenge the pragmatists who would sell the Maori agenda short.

Every working day for me is about rejecting polarisation. Whether it is dealing with the ubiquitous prejudice that Maori can't run a successful enterprise, the persistent inter-iwi rivalry or the politicians' penchant for sensationalism. Maori don't want separatism. Our entire history is about mixing it up.

In our time we have caught the wave of passion for our reo, tikanga and history. Call it a renaissance, an identity surge, it is up and running. Our Maori personality nowadays, however, is different from that which marched to the Maori Battalion or fled from the papakainga to the cities in the 1960s.

Is it a personality strong enough to withstand the negative political polls? Of course it is. Assertiveness is the norm. Accentuating identity is the admired approach rather than inconspicuousness. There is also the recognition that politicians cannot fully deliver on Maori expectations. Balance will always be necessary and I am reminded of my grandmother's oft-quoted saying, "Ma te werawera koe e whiwhi ai." [Success tastes sweet when it is the sweat of the brow".]

No doubt there are readers tut-tutting that this phrase overlooks the barriers that deny Maori success. Sorry whanau if you are still reading, rangatiratanga is about responsibility as well as rights.

There is a place for a dedicated strategy to deal with Maori disparity. An example is the post-secondary wananga. They lead the way in salvage education and are drawing older people back into education - a result more meaningful than relying on the scholarships, a topic which has suddenly made our politicians froth.

This year I went to Waitangi. Twenty years ago I went there as a vigorous protester. Several mortgages and seven children later I am no longer a protester. This means I tend to avoid the indigenous sovereignty workshops and the de-colonisation seminars. In addition, I keep a wary eye on the political gauntlet known as the Waitangi marae welcome.

This marae more than any other thrives on political confrontation. Just think about the brouhaha around Don Brash's pelting outside the marae. It made for great press. However, the act lacked any political benefit for the Maori agenda. Instead, it triggered political manna from heaven for Dr Brash. Actually when we marry the aggro Waitangi images of the Prime Minister getting the "bash", Don getting a pelting and the public lapping up his racial rhetoric it is not surprising that the mood of the nation has been infected.

Kiwis have told the pollsters they have had a gutsful. They vent their spleen in talkback land. They mutter, take Waitangi out of the Treaty. Or maybe take the Treaty out of Waitangi. For goodness sake, someone do something! Ahh, the measured tones of Dr Brash, he is the man, the Rotarians purr. After all, he wants to take Maori out of the Treaty or maybe take the Treaty out of New Zealand. Yeah, right!

Waitangi Day has to rediscover fun and celebration. We cannot go on treating it as an annual race relations audit day. This will guarantee it becomes irrelevant for the majority of the nation. We run the risk that the only people to genuinely enjoy Waitangi Day will be visitors. Meanwhile thousands of Kiwis led by John Tamihere vow never to return to the place.

The rest of the world seems more interested and more capable of celebrating our cultural achievements than we are. Although I could not help thinking that had Keisha won an Oscar, Rawiri Paratene would have ensured our distinctive New Zealand brand was on stage with a waiata or a haka. If there is one thing the kiwi can learn from the iwi, it's the impact of ceremony well done.

We are at a turning point. Obviously there is a market for Dr Brash's racial recipes. Maori will need to be steadfast and let the facts speak. Which is a problem given the way we have neglected our nation's history.

All sorts of views are getting an airing. Anyway, the vast majority of us actually like our neighbours, our goal attack, our inside centre. Despite Dr Brash's deprecations, Maori are not constantly in political road rage.

The reality is our sense of belonging, and our national shared future will be determined as much on the sports field, playground, workplace and in the nuptial bed as opposed to political confrontation.