The country’s new conscience

The Race Relations Commissioner can or should act like a national conscience, pricking apathy and prejudice, suggesting room for improvement and helping to mediate between opposites. And while there has never been a time when a commissioner has not been necessary in New Zealand, there is no doubt that the role is especially critical in 2019.

It is remarkable that New Zealand has been without a commissioner for more than a year, since Dame Susan Devoy stepped down in June 2018. There were suggestions we would have to wait several more weeks to learn of her replacement but an announcement came suddenly yesterday that Devoy’s successor is retiring Gisborne Mayor Meng Foon.

A Chinese New Zealander fluent in te reo – it is amazing only one mayor can make that claim – Foon seems perfectly suited to the role at this time. He has been a mayor for 18 years and a councillor for six before that. He is well regarded nationally. He seems to have clear skills in leadership, communication and mediation.

Race Relations Commissioners have rarely been uncontroversial appointments. When Chris Laidlaw got the job in 1989, Winston Peters, then a National MP, called the appointment ‘‘a case of sickly white liberalism’’. Joris de Bres, who held the role from 2002 to 2013, apologised after calling the colonisation of New Zealand ‘‘a sorry litany of cultural vandalism’’.

De Bres observed that complaints flooded into his office if Pa¯ keha¯ were criticised by Ma¯ ori rather than the reverse. He was more likely to hear about comments made by Hone Harawira or Margaret Mutu than Paul Holmes or Paul Henry. In the six

years since he stepped down, arguments about the meaning and effect of racism and hate speech have become more bitter and convoluted. Foon steps into the role at a fractious time when the ‘‘right’’ to offend is being reclaimed as free speech.

There are other challenges. The soul-searching and outpouring of genuine support for the Muslim community that followed the March 15 terror attacks in Christchurch seemed short-lived. Some believe the status quo was quickly reasserted. When the Royal Commission of Inquiry into the attacks reports back in December, New Zealand will have to re-examine the questions the attacks raised about Kiwi attitudes and complacency. The forthcoming anniversary of the Endeavour’s voyage to New Zealand will be an occasion when we will benefit from Foon’s experience. He backed the recent dual naming of Poverty Bay, now known as Tu¯ ranganui-a¯ -Kiwa/Poverty Bay, ahead of the 250th anniversary of Captain Cook’s landing, despite it being a controversial position in Gisborne.

Devoy stumbled in the early stages of her stint as commissioner, although she eventually grew into the role. Her appointment was strongly criticised by Ma¯ ori Party MP Te Ururoa Flavell and Mana Party president Annette Sykes, among others, after she was found to have written that Waitangi Day was ‘‘marred’’ by protest and Muslim burkas were ‘‘disconcerting’’.

There seem to be no such skeletons in Foon’s political closet. Early comments emphasising the ways poverty and inequality connect to New Zealand’s race relations also show that his thinking is not simply reactive. These are promising signs at an important time.

De Bres ... was more likely to hear about comments made by Hone Harawira or Margaret Mutu than Paul Holmes or Paul Henry.