Why I was wrong on iwi representation
The present system, as ‘‘democratic’’ as it might appear to the purist, is just not working for huge chunks of our country, writes councillor Sean Rush.
It may well surprise no-one that my initial instinct, when confronted with a vote on Ma¯ ori representation on Wellington City Council committees, was to unequivocally vote against such a move. I am a firm ‘‘one person, one vote’’ proponent, and felt that separate representation for different groupings on council was not something that met that simple principle.
I believed specific appointments to committees are for subject matter experts, not to enhance mana whenua representation, and that we already had access to good iwi and other Ma¯ ori-centred advice.
Further, I was firm in my view that Ma¯ ori get a vote, and they (a term I struggle to use to describe fellow Kiwis) should use that vote to ensure they get the representation they want, just like the rest of us.
And to cap it all, I have always relied on Article Three of the Treaty of Waitangi to give my views legitimacy. That article gives all of us equal rights and obligations under the law, and I felt that Ma¯ ori-specific seats on council worked against this principle.
Why then, did I vote for Ma¯ ori representation on the Wellington City Council committees recently?
The iwi representatives that came to talk to us were impressive. Indeed, it became clear that we are aligned on maximising well-being for all the city’s residents.
They also made it clear that the current system, as ‘‘democratic’’ as it may appear to the purist, is a thin veneer hiding huge inequality, and is not working for chunks of our country. It is clearly not the ‘‘equality’’ envisaged by the chiefs and William Hobson, on behalf of the Crown, at Waitangi.
It was hard to disagree, especially when confronted with the sort of hard evidence that was offered up. The negative health, justice and employment statistics that impact Ma¯ ori begged the question, ‘‘Can we really say we are governing equally for all Wellingtonians, when one group is clearly so unequally represented in negative outcomes?’’
In my criminal law defence days I saw, firsthand, the results of this inequality. I was determined to do something about it, if ever I could. As a politician, I pride myself on making evidence-based decisions, and the evidence that our current system is not working for all is abundant. At some point, even the most dearly held principles must be re-thought, even discarded, if the evidence shows they are in fact impostors.
My council work with iwi representatives on other local body committees was also influential. They add considerable value, over and above the skill set of elected members. Again, the evidence before me was that such professionals undoubtedly strengthen our decision-making.
The proposed iwi representation appointments are a small step on a journey towards a better future. They apply solely to council committees, so the full elected council always has the final decision-making authority, thereby preserving democratic accountability in any event.
For some, this will not be nearly enough, while for others it will be a step too far. We will see. We will all be taking baby steps.
With the possible addition of a Ma¯ ori ward next year we are likely to see democratically elected representation for Ma¯ ori around the council table as well.
Those who have followed my journey will not be surprised I supported greater Ma¯ ori representation on our council. I campaigned on bringing unity, on decisions that bring us together and help improve the city we all care about – whether we have been here five years or 500.
On a final note, my views on what it means to be a Tangata Tiriti (a New Zealander of nonMa¯ ori origin) are evolving, never losing sight of my goal to make Wellington and New Zealand a better place for all.
Some may see this support as a step towards supporting a separate state. It is not. Rather, specific Ma¯ ori representation as we have agreed on council is an elegant, modern interpretation of ka¯ wanatanga (governorship), which could be the circuit-breaker that brings unifying change for future generations.
It’s certainly worth a go.
At some point, even the most dearly held principles must be re-thought, even discarded, if the evidence shows they are in fact impostors.