THE LOST LANDS
Between 1890 and 1905, thousands of acres of land left Ma¯ori ownership in King Country. It was described as an act of aggressive land grabbing by the Crown. Donna-Lee Biddle reports on the latest Waitangi Tribunal findings.
Rust-coloured slabs of steel weave their way through the heart of the King Country.
In the south, they loop up around the hilly terrain of Wellington, through the rugged country between Manawatu¯ and Waikato and on to Auckland.
In holidays gone by, families laden with suitcases would line the train station platforms desperate to escape elsewhere.
When the North Island Main Trunk first opened in 1908, the 682-kilometre journey from Wellington to Auckland took between 18 and 20 hours.
By the 1920s, new locomotives cut the trip to 14 hours.
It took more than 20 years for the railway to be built, a feat described as an ‘‘engineering miracle’’.
The intention was to connect the lands and the people by providing a passenger rail service.
But the people of Te Rohe Po¯ tae will tell you otherwise.
The idea of a main railway between Auckland and Wellington started in the 1860s, but it wasn’t until the 1870s and ’80s that the build started.
There was a southern line from Auckland to Te Awamutu and isolated builds in and around Manawatu¯ and the Hawke’s Bay.
After exploring several routes, the Government chose to build through Te Rohe Po¯ tae, otherwise known as the King Country.
However, the land was not accessible to Pa¯ keha¯ .
After the Waikato War, the Kı¯ngitanga movement imposed an aukati (boundary) which restricted Pa¯ keha¯ entry into Te Rohe Po¯ tae.
The move was to prevent further alienation of Ma¯ ori land and, as a result, the railway line from Auckland reached Te Awamutu in 1880 and stopped there.
Determined to build the railway through the central North Island, Government met with Nga¯ ti Maniapoto leaders Wahanui Huatare, Rewi Maniapoto and Taonui Hikaka.
Five iwi – Nga¯ ti Maniapoto, Nga¯ ti Hikairo, Nga¯ ti Raukawa, Nga¯ ti Tuwharetoa, and Whanganui, signed an agreement with the Crown to allow the build.
The concessions for the iwi included continued prohibition of alcohol in the area.
On April 15, 1885, Premier Robert Stout, Wahanui Huatare and Rewi Maniapoto ceremonially turned the first sod of the central section at Pu¯ niu, near Te Awamutu.
The Crown agreed to name the section Turongo but this name was never officially adopted.
What was supposed to be a sign of peace between the Crown and the people of Te Rohe Po¯ tae turned into an aggressive campaign that saw Ma¯ ori lose ownership of more than 640,000 acres of land.
A triple banger
Te Rohe Po¯ tae was once a thriving community, Nga¯ ti Maniapoto elder Tom Roa says.
Instead, with the stroke of a pen, their lands and livelihoods were ripped out from under them.
Roa’s comments are echoed throughout the first report into the Te Rohe Po¯ tae district inquiry: Te Mana Whatu Ahuru.
In summary, the Waitangi Tribunal found the Crown caused serious social harm and acted dishonestly to Ma¯ ori, engaging in an aggressive land grab that caused, and is still causing, the rohe and its people damage.
‘‘The community became increasingly impoverished and demoralised, having entered a relationship with the Crown in the hope that they could control their own futures, they found they could not. It was the Crown, not Ma¯ ori, who controlled the settlement of the district,’’ the report read.
The 1506-page report details the stories not found in history books.
Some were stories passed down through generations, as keepsakes. Some, as ammunition.
The treasures, Roa says, are the stories not highlighted – the ones that are there for posterity.
But it’s stories such as that of the North Island Main Trunk that have lasting, devastating, effects for the iwi and hapu¯ of Te Rohe Po¯ tae.
The tribunal found the Crown failed to fulfil many of the agreements with Te Rohe Po¯ tae Ma¯ ori regarding the railway.
The Crown also promoted settlement in the area by introducing the Native Land Court in 1886 and, from 1890, pursued an aggressive programme of land purchases, the report read.
Roa and other claimants began working on their claims over two decades ago.
He claimed on behalf of about seven hapu¯ , including Nga¯ ti Hinewai, Nga¯ ti Matakore, Nga¯ ti Urunumia, Nga¯ ti Apakura, and Nga¯ ti Paretekawa.
It was a difficult process at times, one that started in the 1980s, with several discussions happening at informal times: having a cuppa at the marae, at a tangi, and even waiting for a special visitors to arrive.
Conversations happened far before that though, when Roa travelled to different parts of the rohe, and as a child and as an adult, he would hear the stories.
It started as a simple act of camaraderieMore than 150 years ago, a dispute over land between the Crown and Taranaki Ma¯ ori sparked the First Taranaki War.
In response, Taranaki Ma¯ ori fled the area and sought refuge with their Nga¯ ti Maniapoto relations.
The injection of extra people, especially during and after the Waikato War, more than doubled Nga¯ ti Maniapoto’s population.
This undoubtedly put a strain on the resources, Roa says.
‘‘How can that not be socially harmful?
‘‘Imagine your home: you’ve got a family of two parents and two children living in that home and then your relations next door suffer a calamity and then that family of four move in with you,’’ Roa says.
‘‘Immediately that population is doubled. Socially, it can’t be helpful, or beneficial, but you carry on, and then, north of you, the same thing happens but it’s not one family – it’s a series of family that move in with you. So, over a very short period of time, your resources, your livelihood is challenged.’’
And it began, the first shot of raupatu (confiscation of lands, and lives and livelihoods lost during the confiscations).
‘‘Then they manage to make a deal about a railway and that railway tears the guts out of the heart of your territory. You think, well let’s allow this railway to happen, because then we can take advantage of it. I’ll have this very, very clear arrangement with them that you can have this side of the railway and that side and that’s it.
‘‘And then the Government enacts laws and with the stroke of a pen, that tears the guts out of your lands, your livelihoods. I don’t know that it can’t be an understanding on anybody’s part that it has social consequences.
‘‘I don’t believe any other iwi suffered that same triple banger; lands, lives and livelihoods lost.’’
Today, about 90 per cent of Maniapoto live outside of the Maniapoto region. And this, Roa says, is one of the biggest social
‘‘I don’t believe any other iwi suffered that same triple banger; lands, lives and livelihoods lost.’’ Nga¯ ti Maniapoto elder Tom Roa
consequences.
‘‘There we were, a mere 150 years ago, bringing these people in to look after them but 150 years later, we can’t even look after ourselves. We have to go elsewhere to find a living.’’
The first 11 chapters of the report focuses on 277 claims concerning the actions of the Crown following the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840.
Te Rohe Po¯ tae includes all territories from northern Taranaki to south Waikato that were not confiscated after the wars of the 1860s and the report gives particular focus to negotiations between the Crown and leaders of Te Rohe Po¯ tae in the 1880s. The tribunal found the negotiations between the Crown and Te Rohe Po¯ tae in the 1880s were of major political and constitutional significance. Roa says he’s appreciative of the tribunal’s findings. He speculates the economic impact over 150 years would be one billion dollars – at least – though, that will be a job for a forensic economist.
‘‘The Crown’s representatives in those negotiations acted at times with dishonest and misleading negotiation tactics and promises,’’ the tribunal said in a statement.
‘‘The report found the cumulative impact of the Crown’s treaty breaches in the district has been breakdowns in social and political relationships, land loss, and enormous social, economic and cultural prejudice, the impacts of which continue to this day.’’