We are growing up as a bicultural nation
As a nation, our understanding of te ao Ma¯ ori (the Ma¯ ori world view) is maturing. Year on year, New Zealand navigates its way through increasingly complex issues with the nuance of a country that is no longer finding its feet, but is starting to run.
In my second Te Tiriti o Waitangi workshop in as many decades, the evolution of these uniquely Kiwi social and political ideas came into sharper focus. Back in 2000, we talked about whether karakia was too Christian-based for our progressively secular nation. Now we discuss how karakia serves a role in our understanding of the spiritual world, whatever the faith.
Choosing between a bicultural and multicultural approach seemed like a contest back then: which one is most relevant in a changing New Zealand? These days, Ma¯ ori values of manaakitanga and whanaungatanga are understood to embrace, if not require, a welcoming approach to all the peoples of the world who now live here.
Sometimes, two decades ago, I would listen to my Ma¯ ori colleagues discuss whether use of te reo by non-Ma¯ ori was tokenism or even cultural appropriation, if understandings of the concepts behind the words were not appreciated. Now, te reo is a gateway into deeper insights into the Ma¯ ori world; as a figurative language, learners of te reo discover meanings of larger, more holistic ideas that form the basis of te ao Ma¯ ori.
We’re growing up. And so is our nation’s collective understanding of what it means to practise biculturalism (which enables multiculturalism) in New Zealand today.
The Government’s proposal of a Ma¯ ori Health Authority acknowledges how designing systems according to Ma¯ ori values can deliver benefits across areas where Ma¯ ori inequities are most stark. While Judith Collins draws on dated notions of ‘‘separatism’’ and ‘‘race-based institutions’’ to win back uninterested voters, the Government’s Health and Disability System Review debates exactly how a more equitable, coordinated healthcare system for Ma¯ ori could operate.
Equity, it seems, is no longer disputed as a health goal. Instead, as Stuff’s Carmen Parahi wrote last year, the report ‘‘has specific, consistent references to equity and Ma¯ ori woven through every recommendation and chapter’’.
Media are putting biculturalism into practice too. Alongside Stuff’s apology to Ma¯ ori for its historical racist reporting, media coverage of the Ihuma¯ tao land dispute last year regularly set out the complexities of the issues involved, rather than retreating to a simple dichotomy of Ma¯ ori versus the Crown, or indeed, Fletcher Residential or the Wallace family. More nuanced coverage of issues affecting Ma¯ ori plays a vital role in shaping our population’s views.
Te reo Ma¯ ori continues to grow among tamariki, students, and adult learners. The Broadcasting Standards Authority is no longer taking complaints about the use of te reo in the media, as more broadcasters use it. Popular music, poetry and books are being translated into te reo like never before. Google Translate can now translate Ma¯ ori into more than 100 languages.
Our increased exposure to the language is serving as a driving force to what seems like raised awareness of Ma¯ ori practices, including haka, moko kauae, waiata, and mahinga kai.
None of that means there aren’t serious problems to solve between Ma¯ ori and tauiwi (non-Ma¯ ori). There are many. Is ‘‘by Ma¯ ori, for Ma¯ ori’’ always the best approach when dealing with Aotearoa’s most vulnerable children? Are community roadblocks organised by iwi to protect their tribal areas from Covid-19 lawful expressions of the Treaty partnership? Of all the inequities resulting from the systematic theft of Ma¯ ori land by the Crown, the housing crisis is perhaps our harshest, most visible example. Should this mean that Ma¯ ori are prioritised as a form of redress as the Government chips away at this entrenched problem?
What is different about debating these difficult issues now compared to 20 years ago is that they are increasingly understood in the context of our colonial past, where much more than land was confiscated. These days, with more widespread understandings of concepts such as mana, guardianship of the land, and whakapapa, inequities are often linked back to generational poverty, loss of identity and purpose, and inherited disconnection from land and peoples.
As Aotearoa New Zealand grows into a country whose emerging identity is more strongly linked to both indigenous and colonial pasts, we approach our first official holiday which celebrates te ao Ma¯ ori: Matariki, on June 24, 2022.
Maybe I, as a Kiwi, am growing up too. Maybe the years I’ve spent breathing the Aotearoan air of te ao Ma¯ ori have deepened my understanding of what it means to be tauiwi in this extraordinary part of the world. Whatever the reason, this trajectory we are now on – an uptake of interest, a deepening identity, or even another Ma¯ ori Renaissance – is something to celebrate. And, of course, to keep working on.
What is different about debating these difficult issues now is that they are increasingly understood in the context of our colonial past.