OPINION: At primary school, I was once asked, “Are you a Meowri – coz you sure look like one.” When I asked my mother about this, she replied, somewhat hastily, “No dear, you are not Māori. You’re Italian.” (Perhaps she thought of this because my father was in Italy during World War II.)
It wasn’t until I was in my mid-teens that I learnt my genealogy included Māori, as well as British, Irish, French and German ancestry. Not Italian. My mother had thought to protect me from the stigma of the “tar brush” because of her own experiences as a child and young woman brought up in a Māori household.
She had suffered snide comments and the indignity of being treated as a second-class citizen in the country of her birth. When she left school, it was suggested she could get a job cleaning the local doctor’s house, a move that was considered a “step up”. Wanting nothing more to do with her origins, she left for the anonymity of the city.
Colonisation is the reason Māori came to be treated as second-class citizens in their own country. A common definition of colonisation is “a process of establishing control over foreign territories or peoples for the purpose of exploitation and possibly settlement”. Its impacts can be immense and pervasive and, according to Wikipedia, “include the spread of virulent diseases, unequal social relations, detribalisation, exploitation and enslavement …” In other words, Māori were marginalised, suppressed and subjugated.
When it came to the Treaty of Waitangi, how could the signatories understand the “full spirit and meaning” of the treaty they were signing, when presented with a Māori text differing in fundamental detail and spirit from the English version?
Stats NZ estimates 19.6% of the population is of Māori descent. It’s hard to say whether this figure includes many families who have preferred to lay claim to other, more so-called “socially acceptable” European nationalities in their ancestry.
I attended a family reunion some years ago, my first connection with my tribe. I learnt that many people were related, or in some way connected, to me. Of special importance was a close cousin of my mother, and through her, iwi, relatives and a large and diverse whānau. I discovered how much I had missed out on through lack of contact with the rich culture, tradition and connectedness of being Māori.
Thousands of Māori fought in World War II; Māori established marae, schools and universities; they have restored the mana of te reo; they are renowned for the craftmanship of canoes and bone carvings, among other achievements. Yet it has taken many years, if not lifetimes, to change attitudes, and progress has been slow. Unfortunately, some in the coalition government appear determined to whitewash Māori into oblivion on the pretext that we should all be equal. Māori have never been treated as equals; whitewashing is like painting over the cracks.
Until governments learn to celebrate and embrace the indigenous people – the tangata whenua of this country – in all their diversity, language, culture and traditions, we shall continue to have conflict.
I am not a radical. I wish I was. But radicals are needed. I’m old and cowardly and not steeped in the culture and tradition of Māoridom. But my heart sings when I watch the news and see that Māori are uniting and mobilising to counteract policies aimed at dismantling and whitewashing the Māori race. I have nothing but admiration and respect for those who stand up to oppression.
Barbara Macdonald (Ngāi Tahu) lives on the Kāpiti Coast and has worked in tertiary administration, healthcare, radio, and the environment.
