Sir Robert "Bom" Gillies' casket is carried on to Tamatekapua. Photo / Andrew Warner
THREE KEY FACTS
The 28th (Māori) Battalion fought during the Greek, North African and Italian campaigns in World War II, earning a formidable reputation as a fighting force, which both Allied and German commanders have acknowledged.
The 28th (Māori) Battalion was at times attached to each of the division’s three brigades. Each battalion was commanded by a Lieutenant-Colonel. The Māori Battalion usually contained 700-750 men, divided into five companies.
Germany’s legendary tank commander Erwin Rommel, who faced the Kiwis in North Africa, said of the 28th Māori Battalion: “Give me a Māori Battalion and I will conquer the world.”
Kingi Snelgar is a barrister, Harvard law graduate, Fulbright scholar and advocate for indigenous rights. He has whakapapa to Ngāpuhi, Te Whakatōhea and Ngāi Tahu. He lives and works in Auckland as a lawyer.
OPINION
The death of Sir Robert (Bom) Gillies closes a chapter of Aotearoa’s living history, but his legacy will endure in the memory of his community and the nation. Moe mai rā, e te rangatira; may you rest well, great leader.
The 28th Māori Battalion’s legacy reminds us of the immense price paid in their pursuit of fair treatment and Te Tiriti’s honour – a price yet to be fully realised.
The mana and tapu (sacredness) of the 28th Māori Battalion is immense. During World War II, the battalion was feared by its German enemies – German commander Erwin Rommel reportedly said: “Give me a Māori Battalion, and I will conquer the world.”
The battalion was often sent out first to face the enemy and its members fought valiantly, despite experiencing a casualty rate 50% higher than that of other battalions. Roughly one in six members of the battalion died in service.
Despite their heroism and formidable reputation abroad, members of the Māori Battalion were treated poorly by broader society on their return. Māori soldiers were not afforded the same treatment as their European counterparts – farming ballots and other veteran supports were not readily available. Many went on to lead within their communities across Aotearoa, yet they carried the heavy burden of wartime atrocities.
Sir Apirana Ngata famously wrote that the service of those brave soldiers was the “price of citizenship”, alluding to the expectation that the sacrifices Māori made would earn them equality in Aotearoa, as guaranteed under Article Three of Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
This article promised Māori the same rights and privileges as British subjects, affirming a relationship of equal respect and shared obligation between the Crown and Māori.
However, while Māori had earned immense respect abroad, they returned home to find that this respect did not translate into genuine equality. Their experiences reflect the “price of citizenship” – the hope that future generations of Māori would be treated fairly and honoured as equal partners in Aotearoa.
Yet, alongside the high casualty rates, the “price of citizenship” saw Māori lose nearly a generation of leaders, thinkers and orators.
If such sacrifices were made for a more equitable future, what does it mean for us today to honour those who came before?
Reflecting on the Māori Battalion’s legacy is timely as we consider the Treaty Principles Bill, a piece of legislation that has the potential to weaken Te Tiriti’s original intent drastically. Rather than honouring the sacrifices made in the name of citizenship, this bill proposes redefining Te Tiriti’s meaning in a way that risks diminishing the original agreement between Māori rangatira and the Crown.
Te Tiriti is more than a historical document; it represents a sacred covenant that has shaped our collective identity. It sits at the heart of our social and legal frameworks and serves as the foundation for our government, laws, and the partnership between Māori and the Crown. Like the haka, Te Tiriti is uniquely ours – an enduring symbol of our commitment to partnership and shared guardianship over Aotearoa.
There are two texts of Te Tiriti, but the Māori version of Te Tiriti is considered the most authoritative. This is for several reasons: first, the discussions leading up to its signing were held in te reo Māori, reflecting Māori concepts and world views. Second, nearly all rangatira who signed did so by signing the Māori text.
Finally, international law favours the indigenous language version when interpreting treaties with indigenous peoples. The Māori text remains paramount as it preserves the meanings, values and expectations set forth by Māori leaders when signing. Indeed, the Waitangi Tribunal has said Māori did not cede sovereignty through Te Tiriti.
This sentiment holds true for many iwi and hapū across Aotearoa through the continuous call for a by Māori, for Māori approach across many sectors.
The sacrifices the 28th Māori Battalion made were meant to forge a path toward better treatment back home.
Yet today, the Treaty Principles Bill raises questions about whether this promise is being honored. Instead of upholding this original promise, the Treaty Principles Bill risks imposing a generic concept of equality that obscures the intent behind Te Tiriti.
A familiar criticism is that Te Tiriti grants Māori “special treatment” and is inconsistent with equality. However, as legal scholar Natalie Coates has explained, Te Tiriti acknowledges the special status and rights of tangata whenua, recognising Māori as the original inhabitants of Aotearoa.
The notion that Māori somehow continually receive special privilege is unfounded.
Statistics reveal that Māori are overrepresented in negative socio-economic indicators, highlighting ongoing disparities rather than privilege.
There remains a long road to achieving true equity in Aotearoa and Te Tiriti has a key role to play in that journey.
This perceived erosion of Te Tiriti’s promises has prompted many Māori to mobilise against the bill. A hīkoi has been organised, led primarily by a younger generation of Māori educated in te reo Māori and committed to preserving Te Tiriti’s integrity. This generation recognises the Treaty’s role as a living foundation.
Their voices echo the frustrations of people who continue to seek recognition and respect under Te Tiriti’s terms, despite past and ongoing sacrifices by generations of Māori.
On the one hand, Māori are willing to give so much by sharing our culture with the country during major sporting events like the America’s Cup or welcoming visiting dignitaries.
But on the other hand, we are frustrated with the trampling of our ancestors’ mana and the immense sacrifice made by past generations to honour Te Tiriti through warfare, long legal cases, protests and ultimately through sacrificing their lives.
One reason such a bill is possible in New Zealand is the absence of a written constitution. This absence leaves Parliament free to enact laws that may affect foundational agreements without the approval of those who signed.
Although we may not yet be ready to recognise Te Tiriti as our written constitution, enacting laws that dilute its meaning would be a step backward, undermining the values that make Aotearoa unique. But I’m confident that the tamariki (children) coming through now are much more aware and accepting of our history as a guide for our future generations.
The future lies in a society where Te Tiriti remains the foundation of our collective values, guiding both Māori and Tangata Tiriti. It represents a legacy of unity and shared guardianship, a living document that should continue to shape and inspire future generations.
Embracing Te Tiriti as the basis of our nation strengthens our identity and acknowledges the profound sacrifices made by Māori who envisioned an equitable Aotearoa.
In a world of immense conflict, uncertainty and pain, we should choose to build upon our unique Aotearoa legacy.
Like the All Blacks embracing the Māori version of our anthem, we should also embrace the Māori text of our founding constitution. I look forward to a generation who will implement Te Tiriti as our constitution in time for its 200th anniversary in 2040.