Mãori voices under threat
Those of us who live and work in te ao Ma¯ ori have clocked up more than a few hours on wooden bench seats, on windswept marae, pulling our coats close and hanging on every word . . . every thrust and parry of argument, as speakers duel in the realm of Tu¯ matauenga.
When it’s done well, whaiko¯ rero on the marae takes an issue and examines it from all sides. Each speaker builds on the speech before. Watching a great kaiko¯ rero at work is a masterclass in listening and critiquing. The supporting waiata confirm the strength of support for the speech or, in some instances, cut it short if the aunties decree that the kaiko¯ rero has strayed from the path of truth into ‘‘fake news’’.
Each element adds to the experience, enlightening all. The suggestion that there would only be one kaiko¯ rero beggars belief.
In essence, that is what Ma¯ ori Development Minister Nanaia Mahuta is proposing with her plan to ‘‘rationalise’’ Ma¯ ori news to the point that Ma¯ ori Television becomes the single Ma¯ ori news service. No Te Karere ,no Marae ,no Waatea, no The Hui. One kaiko¯ rero, one voice, a solitary speaker to tell the story.
Finance Minister Grant Robertson has spoken about the need for a ‘‘plurality’’ of voices in New Zealand media. He’s found tens of millions of taxpayer dollars to ensure tauiwi have options when it comes to news and current affairs. Having successfully ensured the mainstream media choir is in full voice, the Government then proposes garrotting Ma¯ ori journalism in favour of Ma¯ ori Television performing solo.
This rationalisation of Ma¯ ori news is simply taking from Pita to prop up Paora. Unlike Pa¯ keha¯ media, with its decades of state funding, resourced platforms and mass audiences, Ma¯ ori media has creatively survived on yearly funding contracts sourced through te reo Ma¯ ori revitalisation money. It’s a flawed model which doesn’t allow for long-term planning or the ability to recruit and retain staff. It’s a mess, and it needs attention. But this is not the solution.
If the minister wants to make a material difference to the size and quality of Ma¯ ori media, she needs to make a substantial investment in it. And that investment needs to be in all aspects of Ma¯ ori news – in te reo, in English, in mainstream, in Ma¯ ori Television, in iwi radio, in print, online.
Mahuta’s suggestion of a centre of excellence for journalism is well-meaning, but lacks insight into our frail industry. Perhaps a creative solution is extending the trades training scheme is to include Ma¯ ori media craft. We’d certainly take on cadets at The Hui, and I know other organisations would welcome the opportunity to have subsidised Ma¯ ori cadets in their workspaces. Cadets need experienced craftspeople to train them.
RNZ’s Ma¯ ori cadetship programme is now in its fifth year and in May this year the first cadet, Te Aniwa Hurihanganui, won Best Ma¯ ori Journalist at the Voyager Awards. We desperately need to see well-trained journalists filtering through our industry and across multiple platforms.
There is no doubt that the media landscape is shifting, and we all need to be prepared to move with it. But what Mahuta is proposing will further marginalise the Ma¯ ori voice.
Perhaps its greatest deficiency is that it fails to take an audience-centric approach. It appears to fly in the face of what we know about Ma¯ ori audience trends and how they consume content.
The late Professor Ranginui Walker once compared Ma¯ ori journalism to a modern marae, a forum where contentious issues could be blown about by the wind and shone on by the sun until the truth was exposed. If no-one is there to listen to the solitary orator, then the marae is no more than a field and a collection of empty buildings.
Our tu¯ puna had a saying for that:
He tangata takahi manuhiri, he marae puehu. A person who disregards his visitors will soon find he has no visitors at all.