The Futility of Trying to Capitalism Our Way out of Colonialism.

A few reflections on economy, capitalism, and Indigenous liberation.

Let us start with a broad position statement: Colonisation is an economic project. I say that in light of the first Doctrine of Discovery papal laws being a means to an end: for Europeans to break into the Saharan slave trade.

I say that in light of the text of those laws specifically being to dispossess Indigenous peoples of material and immaterial goods, and to commit our bodies to perpetual slavery – for the purpose of profit.

I say that in light of these papal bulls initiating the European, and Trans-Atlantic slave trades.

I say that in light of the resulting project being one that turned land, water, all goods, and even human bodies into commodities for trade and consumption, and how this necessitated the removal of their sacredness and humanity.

I say that in light of how colonial narratives have intentionally indoctrinated entire societies into believing that European economies are innately superior, and more rational, than Indigenous economies.

I say that in light of the fact that all colonial governments were established as institutions to secure perpetual rights of extraction from lands, waters and bodies based on the above principles.

I say that in light of how colonial economic privilege shapes transnational institutions such as the Bretton Woods system (World Bank, International Monetary Fund, World Trade Organisation etc) and the United Nations – and the levers of power within them.

I say that in light of how our racialised global economy has placed the necessary resource to purchase political power in the hands of intergenerational colonisers, who then purchase political favours to maintain that oppressive power.

I say that in light of how the Doctrine of Discovery provided the backdrop to a global economy premised upon two permitted harms: Slavery and Indigenous dispossession.

I say that in light of the fact that the economic underpinnings of colonial racism make it an extremely entrenched form of colonialism. This sits behind the classic colonial myth that Indigenous justice (eg landback and constitutional reform) would cause broad economic instability.

Colonisation has never been power for power’s sake alone. It has always been about securing permanent access to our lands, waters, bodies and all we possess – both material and immaterial. This was very bad news for me when the realisation emerged. Me, who felt my eyeballs bleed when the financial news would show up on the television and eyes glazed over at the sight of currency charts and my brain tuned out at the mention of NASDAQ and the greenback. I had always equated economy with banks, money, currency and numbers. It was through Indigenous learnings that I came to appreciate economy as simply a network of wealth. That the “wealth” needn’t be money, but could be abundant lands and waters, and quality of life with those you love, and the “network” needn’t be a one-way vertical hierarchy, but could be circular, webbed, and nourishing. Understanding economy in a much more pure, simple sense as the ways in which we care and provide for ourselves and each other (both human and non-human) made economy much more engaging for me. Then, learning the story of our economy through the Doctrine of Discovery took it from a mind-numbing drone about the NASDAQ to an epic, enduring global tale of bloodshed, fortitude, and love in the face of extreme injustice.

Learning about colonial economics, the most obvious aspect of which is capitalism, has therefore been central to understanding colonialism, both in its early days in European hands, but also in more recent times as it has become an assumed permanent fixture, even in very recently colonized societies like Te Ao Māori. We could absolutely write a book about economic colonialism (and I’ll attach some recommended readings below) but for now, perhaps, it’s best for us to consider whether our embrace of capitalism is, at the very least, a conscientised, informed one.

There is a lot of talk about “economic rangatiratanga” of late, particularly from the most recent hui-a-motu. Certainly, there is a lot more freedom when utilising commercial rather than state or even philanthropic funds, but it does come with a price.

As abolitionist Ruth Gilmore reminds us, there is no version of capitalism that is not racial, there is not a version of capitalism that will not exhaust the energies and resources of the human and non-human world. It. Does. Not. Exist.

So there is no “Indigenising” capitalism, just as there is no “Indigenising” parliament. There is only dismantlement and re-construction for our Hawaiiki Hou.

That doesn’t mean we can’t operate within capitalism – of course, we must. We are forced to as a part of our colonised experience, but there are a few hard truths for us to confront in order to engage in capitalism in a conscientised way.

Capitalism was born out of colonial oppression. From 1450, with the birth of the European slave trade it was an economy that permitted extreme violence, subjugation and theft. Importantly, from 1600 the principles of colonisation became the yeast for modern corporate business models, with the founding of the East India Company, the first joint-stock business whose service was literally to colonise on behalf of the British Crown, whose empire had started to expand beyond the Crown’s financial capacity to underwrite it. The privatisation of colonialism continued from that point on, with many other “companies” receiving royal assent to carry out the work of colonialism all the way through to the notorious “New Zealand Company”, which received royal assent in 1841 (the astute amongst you will note that this is one year after the signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, which was meant to be the agreement that would protect Māori from the activities of the New Zealand Company).

So when I say corporate imperialism mirrors classic imperialism, I’m not being cute, I’m being very real: modern corporate models are borne of colonial oppression, mingled with colonial power. Colonial power has been historically used to protect corporate extraction from Indigenous peoples’ lands, waters and bodies, and as a global structure, it still does that today. This is the very reason why colonial power structures cannot halt climate change – it simply is not geared to function in a way that limits power in favour of environmental, human or Indigenous rights. We must consider this while being courted to monetise entire ocean and land based ecosystems and submit them to a colonially-led carbon market that is, overall, failing to achieve its goal of lowering emissions.

Capitalist wealth has always been dependent upon capitalist poverty, somewhere. So capitalist success cannot be a decolonial destination. We can engage in capitalism in a way that lessens the harm, for sure, but we must be real about what that means. For instance, you can purchase Māori items, but let’s not fool ourselves that this “indigenises” capitalism. When we purchase from Māori suppliers, what we are saying is “if I must engage in the harm of capitalism, let the profits at least flow towards Māori”. If we can find a Māori provider that uses locally sourced products, uses less plastic, creates lower emissions, directs profits towards community wellbeing, well then – all the better. Every step will reduce harm, and while we are all caught up in capitalism, this is of course more preferable than investing mindlessly into markets of harm.

My hope is that this is the new horizon for the Māori economy, now that there is a wealth of Māori businesses to choose from. I’m genuinely hoping that now we have the luxury of choice, as Māori consumers, we will start directing our dollars towards Māori business owners who are conscious of their business impact upon the planet and the underclass upon whose oppression capitalism rests. People will no doubt argue that this already exists, that the Māori economy is already one that revolutionises capitalism. I would point those people to this research by journalist Max Rashbrooke, which highlights the fact that the wealth-poverty gap within Te Ao Māori has increased in tandem with the growth of the Māori economy, and now rests at 2-3 times the size of the wealth-poverty gap between Māori and Pākeha. So even when embraced by Māori, capitalist wealth reproduces capitalist poverty. This is not a flaw of capitalism, it is its point. When it is replicated by the colonised, it is also the point of colonialism – for the colonised to replicate colonial systems themselves.

We must also, however, consider what alternatives there are. Just a few generations ago, there was a negligible wealth-poverty gap in Te Ao Māori. While this could be characterised as a shared experience of poverty, reflections of elders from that time indicate that there was, in spite of not having much money, stronger relationships in the community, and a greater sense of trust and cohesion in general. Interestingly, some elders reflected that when things went wrong, they were better able to address issues as a community, and there was less need to call upon the authorities. The economies that underpinned this lifestyle were not monetary economies, they were economies of sharing, of manaakitanga, of aroha, of kaitiakitanga. People would come together to plant, to harvest, to redistribute and to share kai. Such economies really can be the basis for transformation.

Reflections from elders of Matakāoa on how their economy underpinned a community of care

Under a capitalist market democracy (such as the one we currently live in), the fear of poverty is regularly used as a method of control. The most powerful display of this can be seen during elections, where various parties will throw beneficiaries under the bus, wax lyrical about Māori settlements being a drain upon the economy, and stoke fears about the cost-of-living crisis and housing crisis under their respective opposing party. They do all of this to direct votes, and acquire power.  So imagine the political power retained within your community when you remove their ability to do that. Community funds that are collectively managed from within the community, designed to support people with their housing maintenance, or to keep food on the table, or to keep the power on in times of hardship are not just materially beneficial, but politically beneficial. They allow people greater freedom to democratically participate in a way that is not driven by a fear of losing everything. Successful examples include the Sawmill Community Land Trust and the Dudley Street Neighbourhood Initiative.

You can also focus on those who are worst impacted by capitalist societies, and ensure that they are kept front and centre as the measuring stick of your progress. This will include the unhoused, and the institutionalised (in prisons or wards). Examples of this include the Tonatierra Indigenous Embassy Miltecayotl project in Phoenix, Arizona, who work with undocumented migrant farm-workers to ensure they are well supported. Another is Waitomo Papakainga Inc, who work tirelessly to extract their people out of the prison system and support their reintegration back into their community, in addition to food and housing programs. There are echoes of our ancestral distributive economic models in our systems of kōhā during tangihanga, where we all pool our funds to support the whānau pani.

@kereama.wright

#unique protocol in Aotearoa New Zealand of collecting “koha” at a tangihanga (funeral). Tei Nohotima the extraordinaire! #culture #fy #nz

♬ original sound – Kereama Wright

And while all of this is going on, we can always work to reinvigorate our kai-based economies, but of course this also comes with protecting abundant environments, which is increasingly difficult as capitalist democracies tighten their squeeze and seek to extract and exploit more from our lands and waters.

I’m going to address the remainder in a part 2 – because it really is an essay of it’s own, and it’s one that has gathered considerable interest since Waitangi Day where I named a number of business affiliations to the ACT party’s largest donors.  Stay tuned for part 2 – fighting capitalism with its own tools.

RECOMMENDED READING:

The Financial Colonisation of Aotearoa by Catheryn Comin

The New Age of Empire by Kehinde Andrews

Inequality, A New Zealand Crisis by Max Rashbrooke

Debt: The First 5,000 Years,Updated and Expanded by David Graeber

The Economic Possibilities of Decolonisation by Matthew Scobie and Anna Sturman

Protecting Indigenous Treaties and Ending Colonialism everywhere – the International Dimensions of Te Tiriti o Waitangi.

It’s January 2nd here in Aotearoa. 5 days left for us to send in our written opposition to the Treaty Principles Bill. We’ve spoken extensively on why this matters to all people in Aotearoa – today I’m going to speak a little bit about why this is important, internationally.

First of all it’s important for us to understand why there has been such little discussion on the international aspects of the Treaty Principles Bill, and this, like many colonial fictions is both intentional, and functional. The particular fiction that I’m referring to is the fiction that Indigenous treaties are domestic documents (often they are treated by colonial governments as domestic race-relations documents). This is a longstanding colonial fiction, along with a few others that seem to cloud the discussion on treaty justice. So let’s outline the foundational facts and fictions for today’s discussion:

CROWN FICTIONFACT
The Treaty of Waitangi has an English version and a Māori version. Both versions are valid, but say different thingsAll treaties are defined as agreements between two (bilateral treaties) or more (multilateral treaties) political authorities . Only one document comfortably meets this definition: Te Tiriti o Waitangi (written in Te Reo Māori)
The Treaty of Waitangi is an agreement between 2 parties: The Crown and MāoriTe Tiriti o Waitangi is a multilateral agreement between the British Crown and 500+ Māori political authorities. Were it between two parties (eg “Māori” and the Crown), it would only require 2 signatures. It holds 500+ signatures because those are the various political authorities
The Treaty of Waitangi is a domestic race-relations documentIt is not a domestic policy document. No treaty is, and it is legal nonsense to suggest that multilateral agreements are domestic policies
The Treaty of Waitangi established the first system of government on this landPrior to the arrival of Europeans on our shores, hapū were complete nations with our own political and legal systems. These systems did not magically disappear with the arrival of Europeans, and form a part of our social institutions that are protected by Te Tiriti o Waitangi. In Te Tiriti o Waitangi, this is referred to as “tino rangatiratanga”.  
The Treaty of Waitangi is the source of Māori rights, and about Māori grievance.There are two sets of rights relating to Māori that are discussed in Te Tiriti o Waitangi: The pre-existing rights of hapū Māori to retain paramount authority over our worlds (ie not sourced from Te Tiriti)Equal rights and privileges as British subjects (never received).   Te Tiriti o Waitangi only provided new rights to pākeha. That was the right to call Aotearoa home, on the condition that it would not be at the expense of those whose home it already is (ie Māori).  

These colonial fictions have been necessary for the Crown to maintain across time so that it could maintain power over Te Tiriti o Waitangi. The Crown fiction that Te Tiriti o Waitangi is a domestic race relations document carries out numerous functions for colonial domination, including:

  • Enabling the Crown to bring Te Tiriti o Waitangi under the assumed authority of the Crown to reinterpret and review it as it wishes, rather than making it subject to international treaty law
  • Removing the Crown from the context of the global colonial project of the West and reinforces the idea that the Crown is an innate feature of Aotearoa
  • Enabling the Crown to place Te Tiriti o Waitangi (and all responsibilities within it) alongside other policy and legislation instruments as “competing interests” rather than a primary instrument with dominant responsibilities over and above other rights and interests (especially corporate rights and interests)
  • Limiting the ability of people to view and organise themselves around the violation of Indigenous treaties as a colonial crime that is seen around the world

So for this reason, people have become very accustomed to viewing Te Tiriti o Waitangi as a domestic issue, having no relevance to foreign matters or transnational matters like climate change – and that fiction has functioned very well for the Crown government of New Zealand. The truth outlined in the table above remains the truth, whether the NZ Crown government acknowledges it or not – and in fact the journey we have been on as a nation toward Tiriti justice is one that we can describe as a journey of the NZ Crown government slowly acknowledging truths that Māori have always known. Truths such as the fact that Te Tiriti o Waitangi was not a treaty of cession, that Hobson’s English text is not a valid treaty but a fraud, and that Tiriti justice cannot be said to be achieved while political authority is still denied to Māori.

Once we reconnect this story back to the international story of Indigenous treaty violations, we start to see many patterns. We see the way in which colonial nations have drafted treaties with Indigenous treaties only to violate them before the ink was wet. We see, over and over again, Indigenous nations demonstrating remarkable grace, goodwill and generosity towards Indigenous nations. We see, around the world, that it has been Indigenous peoples who have upheld their treaties and continue to drag governments to the table and place the treaty in front of them to remind them of their promises, and we see, time and time again, colonial nations attempting to re-interpret, re-define, water-down and de-contextualise treaties. In fact, in 1999 a paper was published by United Nations rapporteur Alfonso Martinez, on the status of Indigenous treaties. The UN Study on treaties, agreements and other constructive arrangements between States and indigenous populations is a very important study which exposes these patterns seen around the world. International Indigenous treaty expert, Michael Lane from Menominee nation notes these patterns as they arose out of the United States and Canadian governments during a period known as the “Termination Era” where the US government forced Indigenous assimilation into mainstream, English-speaking, Christian American society by getting rid of Indian reservations, terminating all treaty obligations to Indian nations, and by terminating all government programs intended to aid First Nations:

“The Termination policy in the United States in the 1950s sought to sever the legal/political relationship between 103 Indian nations and the US government. Repudiated as an utter disaster and most have subsequently been restored as it were after devastating impacts upon those Terminated. Canada sought to do the same with its White Paper of 1969. In 1978 a US Congressman introduced a bill to abrogate all Indian Treaties (371 have been ratified). The Longest Walk, five months Spiritual Walk and 3000 miles (5,000 kms) ensued from Alcatraz to Washington D.C. that was opposed that and ten other pieces of anti-Indian legislation.” Michael Lane

Secretary of the Interior J.A. Krug sings the order to transfer lands for Garrison Dam (1948)
 William Chaplis. Source: Lewis and Clark in Indian Country (Newberry Library)

Importantly, all of these attempts by the colonial governments of so-called USA/Canada to redefine and extinguish treaty rights with first nations were pushed through using the same language of “fairness”, “democracy”, and “equal rights” which framed unique protections as an unfair advantage. This language has been retained by conservative think-tanks today in their opposition to Indigenous rights particularly as they pertain to oil and gas extraction, such as Atlas Network partner the Frontier Center for Public Policy in Canada (previous employer of David Seymour ACT party leader and author of the Treaty Principles Bill), and the Manning Foundation, another Atlas Network partner who has lobbied against Indigenous rights in so-called Canada (also previous employer of David Seymour).

So we can see, very clearly, that the ideology behind this bill is not domestic, but is rather a product of global colonialism. It is a continuation of 500 years of colonisers seeking in every way to protect their stolen wealth, and protect their ability to steal, through colonial policy and legislation. That 500 year story is exactly what creates the levers of privilege within transnational spaces like the United Nations and Bretton-Woods systems of the World Bank, World Trade Organisation and International Monetary Fund. These levers of privilege are the very reasons why the UN cannot stop a genocide, and cannot lower emissions – it is a part of the decolonisation work that needs to be carried out at an international level. People often say that the left is out-organised, and even if that is partly true, it obscures the fact that the right only has to organise half-as-well in order to get traction within global systems, because those systems were designed to benefit the right.

This is exampled by New Zealand’s strongest alliances within the United Nations:

  • CANZUS – (Canada, Australia, New Zealand, USA) who also happened to be the collection of nations that uniquely opposed the adoption of the Declaration for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples by the General Assembly when it was first introduced.
  • CANZUK- (Canada, Australia, New Zealand, United Kingdom) an alliance built upon our shared Commonwealth history and being “white” in appearance
  • CORE ANGLOSPHERE – (Canada, Australia, New Zealand, United Kingdom, United States) an alliance which is credited with creating “transnational governance norms”, and largely shares workstreams in the spheres of immigration, military and surveillance (eg 5 eyes).
  • WEOG (Western Europe and Others Group) – The UN regional group within which New Zealand and Australia resides which is uniquely defined by virtue of being colonised (all other regional groupings in the UN are defined by geography). It includes all Western European nations as well as United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Israel.

There has also been considerable discussion on how policy negotiation has evolved over recent decades, from a space where once member states in these alliances would compare their domestic policies, to one where they would co-develop their policies. In many cases, the people at these tables would see and contribute to policies, positions and legislation before it was ever taken through to the people of those nations. Look carefully at the membership – they are all either colonised, or colonising nations. For the colonised nations, their political and economic existence rests upon maintaining colonial domination over Indigenous peoples – they would not look kindly upon Aotearoa-New Zealand’s continued pathway towards Treaty Justice, and would not feel at all comfortable about a future where Te Tiriti o Waitangi is being honoured in its most important way: political authority for Māori.

A Fearful Vision for Colonisers

The New Zealand government has never actually honoured Te Tiriti o Waitangi, as its very existence is a treaty breach – and it will continue to dishonour it until political authority is restored to Māori. That is the journey we have been on, and since 1975 we have made numerous advances towards Treaty justice. As I’ve outlined above, this journey, and the precedent it sets, strikes fear into the black hearts of colonizers all around the world.  What would that vision look like?

Well, we know that for the most part, Te Tiriti o Waitangi has been used to protect Aotearoa from overseas interference. Don’t believe David Seymour or Winston Peters for a moment when they say they are New Zealand patriots – the very basis for their attempt to weaken the political status of Te Tiriti o Waitangi is to secure access for their overseas corporate mates to plunder our seabed, our lands, and our waters. Te Tiriti o Waitangi played a significant role, for instance, in curtailing the most harmful aspects of the CPTPP (aka the Transpacific Partnership) Agreement. It also played a strong role in achieving the seabed mining ban which NZ First have now reversed. According it more power will undoubtedly lead to stronger protections in our environmental, human rights and foreign policies, including:

  • Protection of our marine territories, one of the largest and most bio-diverse marine territories in the world
  • Protection of uniquely climate-relevant territories such as Antarctica (as a member of the Antarctic treaty)
  • Multilateral trade agreements
  • Foreign policies that relate to Pacific nations
  • Foreign policies that relate to the ecological wellbeing of the Pacific ocean (which retains the bulk of the planet’s biodiversity by volume, and is another significant climate-relevant territory)
  • Our voting behaviour in relation to climate justice and lowering emissions
  • Our voting behaviour in relation to Indigenous justice in the Pacific (eg West Papua, Kanaky, Rapa nui, Guahan, Ma’ohi nui, Hawai’i) and beyond (Palestine, Great Turtle Island-Abya Yala)

In short, a Tiriti led Aotearoa would mark a shift away from the colonial alliances that have wrought devastation far beyond New Zealand’s borders. It’s for this reason that we have reached out to our international allies, both Indigenous and Non-Indigenous for solidarity in this matter – the drivers for this bill are absolutely international in nature, and the consequences for this bill are, too.

The response from the international community has been overwhelming and generous. Many were powerfully moved to express their support when they witnessed Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clark’s haka in parliament at the introduction of this bill.

Now, there is an opportunity for that support to turn into material acts of solidarity by writing in opposition to this bill to the Justice Select Committee of New Zealand parliament. People can write in from anywhere around the world – there are no citizenship requirements, there are no residency requirements. It can be as simple as 2 sentences:

  1. I oppose this bill
  2. I recommend you reject this bill

Attached below are a series of examples for written opposition to the bill by the incredible Tonatierra Indigenous Embassy. Here is the parliamentary portal for submitting your written opposition. If you need inspiration for your written opposition, here is the Koekoeaa linktree which includes many worthwhile written responses to the bill from Māori and non-Māori. You can also go onto the Koekoeaa facebook page, Instagram account or Tiktok to source information.

Below is our event that was generously hosted and promoted from valued allies around the world – at the end of the event is an incredible panel of Indigenous treaty and legal experts speaking to the importance and inter-connectedness of Indigenous treaties. It is these global allies, the people and organisations who have come together from around the world to support treaty justice for Indigenous nations, that form the basis of our righteousness, the basis of our humanity, and the true vision for a just future for Aotearoa and the World.

In love, respect, gratitude and deep solidarity with you all x

“The Doctrine of Discovery” – Moana Jackson 2012

As our people march upon government to call for the honouring of our treaty, Te Tiriti o Waitangi, the words of Moana Jackson are more poignant, and powerful, than ever. Here, he reflects on how the ultimate liberation from the clutches of the Doctrine of Discovery can only happen when we have our full political authority returned. He would have been so proud of our people today xx

Others on this panel who are far more expert than I have already covered much of the history and the basic unjust illogicality of the Doctrine of Discovery. I would like to focus briefly on one part of the doctrine that is perhaps often overlooked, and then devote most of my time to what may be called an Indigenous re-discovery of our own rights, law and sovereign authority.

As I am sure many of your will know, the original meaning of the word to “discover” is “to open up to the gaze of others”. What I would like to suggest in most of this presentation is the need for Indigenous peoples not just to require that colonizing states and their agents reject the doctrine and its application, but that as indigenous peoples we re-open the ancient discourses of our ancestors and explore again how we might redefine and reclaim what our rights and authority mean.

First of all though, I would like to urge us all to remember that while the Doctrine of Discovery was always promoted in the first instance as an authority to claim the land of Indigenous peoples, there were much broader assumptions implicit in the doctrine. For to open up an indigenous land to the gaze of the colonising “other”, there is also in their view an opening up of everything that was in and of the land being claimed.

Thus, if the Doctrine of Discovery suggested a right to take control of another nation’s land, it necessarily also implied a right to take over the lives and authority of the people to whom the land belonged. It was in that sense, and remains to this day, a piece of genocidal legal magic that could, with the waving of a flag or the reciting of a proclamation, assert that the land allegedly being discovered henceforth belonged to someone else, and that the people of that land were necessarily subordinate to the colonisers. Rather like the doctrine of terra nullius or indeed the very notion in British colonising law of aboriginal title, the Doctrine of Discovery opened up the bodies and souls of indigenous peoples to a colonising gaze which only saw them as inferior, subordinate, and in fact less human than them.

At its most base, it expresses the fundamental and violent racism which has led to the oppression of millions of Indigenous peoples over the last several hundred years. It was thus more than a mere doctrine with unfortunate consequences: it was in fact, and remains to this day, a crime against humanity. And like any crime, it has had, and continues to have, many different manifestations as states continue to exercise the power to dominate which they believe the doctrine has given to them.

Sometimes it is manifest in the large and overtly violent actions of an individual state against an indigenous peoples. At other times it can be the dismissive and often petty bureaucratisation of their power.

In my view, it will therefore not be sufficient for states or churches or others who have profited from the doctrine to merely reject it in the 21st century as an unfortunate product of another time. Neither will it be sufficient for states or churches to simply apologise for its invention and use (important though that is), but rather to actively seek to undo its consequences in practical and meaningful ways.

In effect, any colonising rejection of the doctrine, any apology, will be meaningless unless wit, wisdom, and compassion is applied to a practical and proper recognition of the rights of indigenous peoples as defined by the indigenous peoples themselves. The aim should be not just to recompense for the past actions but to accept that a better and more just future for Indigenous peoples will ultimately require a restoration of the political and constitutional authority which the colonising states have so consistently sought to suppress.

Most indigenous peoples have of course long waged a struggle to deal with the costs of the purported right of discovery, and more recently have tried to protect our communities and nations from the genocide which it justified and the ongoing dispossession which it has enabled. Many other indigenous peoples, particularly in recent times, have pointed out the lack of logic in its thesis and the injustice inherent in its application. Still others have sought remedy in international forums or in domestic courts.

However, what I would like to respectfully suggest today, is that we aim for something more. For if we are to have the Doctrine of Discovery revoked by those who invented it we must also be as brave and imaginative as our ancestors and rediscover and revalidate the law and full sovereign authority which they exercised. If we able to do that, we will be discovering for ourselves once again that we have the inherent right and power to take back that which was allegedly discovered and stolen from us.

Indeed I would hope that while our states may at last find the honour and good conscience to reject the doctrine, we as indigenous peoples will also seek to rebuild the damage it has caused in ways that reflect the power and the beauty of who we are.

I do not underestimate the difficulties of that task, because the pressures of what may be called the culture of colonisation remain so intense whether it be through the continued rape and pollution of the mother Earth, or the many forces of violence still being directed at Indigenous peoples. When contemplating how we might chart our future beyond the Doctrine of Discovery, I am also aware that the process will be difficult if only because of the warning given many years ago by the African American philosopher
Frederick Douglass when he said:

“Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did, and it never will.”

However, I firmly believe that we have power too, and that while the Doctrine of Discovery may have led to a practical destruction of the institutions of that power and the law which sanctioned it in all indigenous societies, the spirit and hope of that power has never died. Perhaps this seemingly narrow debate about a doctrine spawned out of hatred and greed in a place far from most of our homes, may also give us as Indigenous peoples the confidence to restate and give life to that power.

If we embark on that journey, which is rather like the liberation that Franz Fanon once described as “the ultimate decolonisation”, each Indigenous nation will no doubt find its own way of reaching that goal. We will each find our own unique way of rediscovering and reopening our pasts to the gaze of our generations yet to come, and in their sight we will give substance once more to the spirit of our power.

At the same time, I am sure that we will also share some of the common values which have underpinned the many indigenous concepts of power. I am sure that we will all want, for example, to find 21st century ways of giving effect to the ancestors’ obligations to protect the mother Earth. I am confident too that we will all find ways of nurturing the relationships of interdependence, and mutual responsibilities that bind all indigenous nations together.

We may give expression to those shared values in different political and Constitutional ways. But if we do so based on the justice of our own rules and the heritage of our own understandings of how we might live with a law rather than under it, then we will rediscover truths that will benefit all of the world. We will replace a crime against humanity with a new sense of responsibility which cherishes all that humanity can be.

In Aotearoa, New Zealand, Māori people are currently striving to reach towards that new kind of political understanding. In a small way we are attempting to move into a post-discovery world, and embark upon the ultimate decolonisation. In doing so we are focussing on less on what the New Zealand Government or courts might do about the Doctrine of Discovery, and concentrating more on what we might do to re-open to our gaze the power and wonder that existed before the doctrine was dumped on our shores in 1769.

If I may, I would like to briefly share with you part of that process in the hope that it might illustrate some of the themes that I have tried to place before you today. In our language at home, our nations are called “iwi” or “hāpu”, and at a major gathering in 2009 our people decided that we should independently begin to formulate a new constitution for our land based on our own laws and values. It was also decided that part of the design of this new constitution should be based on a document that we call “He Whakaputanga” or the 1835 Declaration of Independence, and “Te Tiriti o Waitangi” or the Treaty we signed with the British Government in 1840.

https://nwo.org.nz/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/MatikeMaiAotearoa25Jan16.pdf

This month, we began the first of a series of gatherings with our people which will continue for the next 12 months as we seek to gain from them both the philosophies and the knowledge of the institutions which once allowed us to govern our own land. For although the English word “constitution” is often seen to be a complicated and complex term, it simply means ‘the values and processes which a people choose to determine their own destiny’. In our view it is fundamental to the proper exercise of the right of self-determination which in itself is a denial of the Doctrine of Discovery.

We also undertake the work, convinced that a constitution for our land must come from our land. We believe that the imposed colonising constitution from Britain grew from that place, and that we must find something which breathes from the stories in our own land. We further undertake the work confident that the notion of democracy and indeed the very concept of political power itself are not unique to Britain or Western Europe, but have roots deeply grounded in our own history and traditions.

Finally, we undertake the work convinced that even if the New Zealand Government was to apologise or resile from the Doctrine of Discovery without a fundamental shift in the way governing decisions are made, then we would remain trapped within the clutches of all that the Doctrine of Discovery presupposed.

For us, then, part of the journey beyond the doctrine is necessarily the rediscovering of how we once cared for ourselves in our own land. We are not naive enough to think that the colonising power will immediately accept the work that we do, or that the demands we make through constitutional change will be enough of a demand in itself for them to give of their power. However, we are hopeful that by re-beginning such a dialogue, we will truly rediscover who we once were and who we might once again be, and that in itself will be our rejection of the Doctrine of Discovery.”

TUKU – the art of honouring, and releasing mamae

Human rights, Indigenous rights, and environmental rights are, under a colonial regime, constantly under attack. For many of us, defending and protecting them is not a 9-5 job, it’s an all-day-every-day commitment.

By its very nature, it’s draining – most especially for those whose rights are directly under attack, whether they take action on it or not.

Right now, the vast majority of Te Ao Māori are engaged in defence of our world, defence of our Tiriti, defence of our children’s and mokopuna futures. It’s a lot. With that in mind, it seemed that the most appropriate thing to share right now, is a simple tool that has helped me stay in the fight for many years.

I’ve written and spoken before about the physiological, spiritual and mental health consequences of racism and colonialism, and this is well recognised even in our communities. Often, in the Q&A session after a workshop or keynote, I’m asked “how do you look after your energy doing this work?” and while there are numerous approaches to this, one of the tools I’ve come to really value, which is very practical, is the art of TUKU.

Many Indigenous also have a similar process of releasing something that is burdening you back into the universe. The art of tuku is one of these practices, for Māori. A large part of my work is, necessarily, delving into painful histories that recount colonial harm. I don’t enjoy it, nobody should enjoy it, but it is necessary because if we are not going to hold colonialism to account with the history of its harm, it becomes so much easier for colonisers to continue their work, and tell everyone how beneficial it is. The importance of tuku for me was driven home through an experience I had overseas…

Many years ago I was at the United Nations Permanent Forum for Indigenous Issues in New York, it was my first time there and I was overwhelmed by the experience. Each Indigenous organisation is afforded just three minutes to outline the rights abuses they are experiencing, and the organisations come from around the world to speak to the colonial harm happening to our people. Even though there’s a speakers list, you’re never quite sure if they’ll call your name and so leaving your seat risks missing your call up, and wasting your entire journey there. So there I sat, holding onto my seat, listening to three minute slots of Indigenous rights abuses over, and over, and over again.

By the end of the day, when it came time to go back to my hotel room, my arms and legs felt weighed down, I literally felt like I was carrying weights. I was depressed, anxious, and on the edge of hopelessness. I had a week of this still ahead of me and this was just the first day. How could I go on? I got back to my hotel and turned on Game of Thrones, thinking: well maybe some dragons will distract me from my pain for a while.

As luck would have it, I had been paired with a wonderful Indigenous Aunty in the same room, a United Nations veteran who had supported Indigenous women to engage in that space for many years. She walked into the room not long after me, saw me sat on the floor in despair and asked: “What is this?”.

I burst into tears and blubbed a stream of feelings that were barely coherent:

“I don’t know why I’m here, listening to everyone’s pain and just thinking I should turn around and go home, and cede my space to them. How can we ever overcome all of this!?”

If I was hoping for sympathy and a warm Aunty hug, that wasn’t on the menu. She frowned, shook her head and responded with the “warm scorn” that only Indigenous Aunties can pull off:

“No, no no – you’re doing this all wrong.” She motioned towards the television “First of all turn that rubbish off”. Of course now I’m listening because I’m quite clear this woman is channelling my ACTUAL East Coast Aunties and all their tough-love. I turned it off. She looked me up and down, maybe assessing me to make sure I’m ready for what she was about to say, but in any case the next thing she said has been pure gold for me:

“Who do you think you are to carry these people’s pain for them? Did they ask you to do that? No – they didn’t come here for you to do this, they came here to be heard, just as you have. They came here to set the record straight, just as you have. You crippling yourself does nothing for them. What you can do is bear witness for them, stand in solidarity with them and commit to being an agent of change. You have a job to do for your people, just as they have done their job for theirs.”

My sniffles had by now subsided. Each one of her words were shaping me up, I could feel my back straightening and my shoulders shifting back as the plain truth of her words sunk in:

“I am quite sure that your people have a way of releasing hurt…” she glanced disdainfully at the television before looking back at me “and I don’t mean running away from it”.

I thought for a moment and then said “yes, yes we do”

She nodded and then said “Good, then I suggest you do it and prepare yourself for tomorrow, because this…” *waved hand at my messiness* “isn’t doing anything. I’m going shopping.”

And with that, she sailed out the door, leaving me a little sulky but already a little lighter.

The practice she reminded me of is TUKU. It’s not necessary to be a tohunga, or experienced spiritual practitioner in order to carry it out – anyone can do it. All you need is a quiet space and some time – even five minutes will do. For those that are familiar with the deeper practice of pure, it is kind of like “pure-lite”

Tuku is an intentional practice of honouring pain by becoming hyper-present with it, in order to be able to lift it up, and release it. It is not a dismissal of pain and it’s not an escape from pain. Māori practices are, pretty much consistently, about being very present and real at every level (spiritual, emotional, physical, individually and collectively) with what is happening, honouring emotions and giving them due time and place, so that you can then transition on from them to allow the work to take place. This is a divorce from western wellbeing practices which are generally centered upon escaping or suppressing pain (think holidays, retreats, opiates and very stoic western grief practices).

Tuku may look different to people but there are characteristics which are consistent:

  1. Quiet your mind
    You need to be free of distractions. You don’t have to be by yourself, but if you are in a group, everyone needs to be quiet, and preferably you should all be engaging in this practice, otherwise the one person who is doing it may feel distracted by being self-conscious.
  2. Be present with what you’ve heard/seen/experienced
    Think carefully about what you have seen/heard/experienced. If it is throughout the day, walk yourself through the day from the start til now.Envision it, think about its various dimensions, how it sounded, how it felt, how it looked, what else was happening, what it made you think about, how it made you feel, and the emotions you witnessed in others.
  3. Honour/bless the experience
    What you’ve experienced has purpose, and there is also purpose in you being there to witness it. It has undoubtedly shaped someone, and will shape you by your witnessing of it. Even painful experiences bring important learnings and change. Mihi to it, honour it, and bless it.
  4. Release it to the universe
    “Tāpae ki te rangi, whakairi ake kia tina” Offer the experience back to the universe. This acknowledges the ultimate design of the universe and humbles oneself in relation to it. Importantly, this is NOT about releasing it to nowhere, it is more akin to suspending it in the sky, like a navigational constellation that can guide you on your pathway forward.
  5. Commit to being an agent of change.
    If the experience is one of injustice, this process also comes with a commitment to that injustice, and being an agent of change in your space. Even if this injustice is one that is happening far away from you, you can still be an agent of change towards a better world, one free of injustice.

It took me about 5 minutes tops to do this practice, and straight away, I was better, lighter, more prepared to take another day on. It has been a staple of my United Nations practice since then, and a regular practice for me in relation to the Doctrine of Discovery as well.

Kia kaha e hoa ma, the journey to Tiriti justice, and to Indigenous justice, and an anti-colonial future is a long one, we will need deliberate strategies to maintain our energy, strategically pick our battles, and support each other through this.

MORE HĪKOI PLACARDS

These are high-res so can print out to A3 or A2 size easily.

Enjoy!

What a Load of Colony! New Store and Hikoi Placard

Sooooo…. funny thing happened this month. One of my TOP FANS (read stalker) had at some point decided to collate a bunch of my tweets going back to 2019, and place them all in a single graphic to try and “prove” that I hate white people…

And you know what? It was such a lovely walk down memory lane.

Anyhow, one of my friends suggested I sell it as a poster, and I thought actually that’s not a bad idea. I haven’t put it into a poster (yet) but I did put it on a mug!

and you can BUY IT!

In fact it seemed like such a great idea, that I went ahead and made a few mugs, and a few other goodies too, and started selling (with all profits going towards the People’s Action Plan Against Racism) under my new Etsy shop, “The Anticolonial Kitchen”…. and made $2000NZD in one day!

WHO KNEW?!

So anyway, naturally this made a few folks predictably snotty, and after multiple complaints about “reverse racism” the shop was taken down by Etsy. So I went and found another printer, who is 100% FINE with the designs and happy to print them so now, The Anticolonial Kitchen is BACK IN BIZZO!

So, all profits still go towards the People’s Action Plan Against Racism. I’ve also had a couple of requests about using one of the designs “What a Load of Colony” as a placard for the upcoming hikoi for Te Tiriti – and the answer is OF COURSE YES. I won’t sell it for that though, here is a high-res A3 version of the print:

Anyhow, safe marching everyone, He TAPU Te Tiriti!

The Barriers to Kotahitanga

Hui a motu, Tūrangawaewae. Image from Kereama Wright

If 2024 has a theme in Te Ao Māori, it’s undoubtedly kotahitanga. From the beginning of the year, the Māori nation was called to Tūrangawaewae, and the call was for kotahitanga – uniting in the face of the most explicitly oppressive government we have seen in a long time, coming together to protect all we have achieved in the past 50 years, which this government seeks to undo, and all we hope to achieve for future generations. From that point til now, through multiple hui and indeed throughout the tangihanga of Kīngi Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII and coronation of Te Arikinui Ngā wai hono i te pō VIII, we have heard, over and over, the call to unify. 

It’s not a new call, entire movements have been named after the concept of kotahitanga. It’s been recognised from the time of our ancestors, that we have strength in unity, and are more easily picked off, or held down, when we are separate. I’ve heard many mihi to this government, who have, in their racism, created the context for Māori to unify against them. Undoubtedly, when we have been together in gatherings, “activations” or protests people feel a sense of kotahitanga (and that’s valuable in itself). But as anyone who has been in an intense relationship can tell you – feelings can be deceptive, so I’m going to pose a challenging question now:

What if it’s a mirage?

What if the feeling of kotahitanga, and actual kotahitanga are two different things. What if we aren’t actually there yet? I know there is a tendency to only think/speak positively about ourselves, and I agree that focussing on deficits isn’t a helpful space to remain in – but it’s also important to ground yourself in reality, and sometimes that requires us to consider difficult truths, and potential barriers to our goal. For me, deficit thinking is not considering these barriers, it’s when we consider those barriers to be insurmountable. Problem is, if you don’t SEE the barriers, you’ll have a hard time surmounting them. I’m keen to surmount the barriers, and see how far kotahitanga can take us – so let’s talk about them. Let’s kick our kotahitanga tyres.

I saw somewhere recently, someone wrote “we all know what the problem is”. But do we? The symptoms of the problem are clear – attacks on our reo and tikanga, and all the negative statistics in health, childcare, education and other social outcomes. But are we all on the same page about what drives these attacks and outcomes?

Go around our people and ask them what they think the problem is that we are currently facing, and you’ll get a range of replies:

  • Some will say the problem is an individual, usually David Seymour, or Winston Peters, or Shane Jones, or Christopher Luxon (these folks generally respond by campaigns that smear the individual).
  • Some will say it’s a particular party (eg ACT, but not so much National, and look out for NZ First employing this narrative as we approach the next election).
  • Some will say it’s this coalition together (certainly Labour supporters will take this position)
  • Some will say it’s how we do government (these people are generally focussed on a Tiriti centered constitution, a Māori parliament OR setting up a new iwi structure to interface with this government on behalf of Te Ao Māori)
  • Some will look beyond this government to international thinktanks like The Atlas Network (these people will look to expose and limit the impact of such thinktanks on government)
  • Some will look to broader systems like capitalism (these peeps might propose that we all grow our own food, go off-grid etc – OR they may seek to “win” at capitalism, and use capitalist business models to reduce dependency on the government)

And of course many may say it’s a mix, or even all of the above, but have different ideas about which approach should be prioritised. In any case, I’ve just highlighted at least six different views of what the problem is (and even more ideas about what solutions we should engage in). Now I’m no kotahitanga genie, but I do know that for us to come together around a solution, we need to get on the same page about the nature of the problem. That doesn’t mean we should all be doing the same thing – a diverse approach is good but even a diverse approach still needs to understand what the problem looks like, to guide where our energy is best placed. For instance, if too many people think the problem is David Seymour, but hardly anyone is focused on how we do government, we run the risk of missing an opportunity to block the next David Seymour from coming along (and believe me, there is always a David Seymour around the corner, he’s not a one-off).

It’s difficult, I know, but if we don’t take our time to wānanga and get strategic, we will continue to get pulled into a reactionary space. If we keep reacting to every announcement, we are playing into the distraction tactics of those in power, and we run the risk of being fatigued in 2026 – when we most need our energy. There is a real possibility that in avoiding the difficult discussions, we will condemn our future generations to even more difficulties.

Now, even if we are able to get a unified idea about the nature of the problem, there are a few other matters that can create divisions if not discussed, and managed:

1. Personality over politics – The role of personality is huge. Being a media personality got Donald Trump elected into president, and is arguably going to get him elected back in, even as a convicted felon. He is a rather extreme example though, and we have plenty of examples of this much closer to home. People will endorse someone’s political takes because they are a celebrity artist, or because they are a social influencer, a powerful orator or a successful business person. Increasingly there are concerns about the role of content creators in politics – but for rangatahi, social media is an inescapable fact, and a forum that really resonates for them. Social media is also not the only way we can be swayed. In Te Ao Māori, we love a good tune. I can’t tell you how many hui I have seen swayed by someone who can sing the right song, at the right time. Not always a bad thing, but we need to be aware of how these truths might be used against our collective interests.

2. Iwi/identity over politics – In Te Ao Māori, we are also swayed by the position that our iwi might take. We often have deep, emotional ties to our iwi and don’t want to be seen as being out-of-step with the iwi position. The subtext to being out-of-step is that you may be seen as somehow “less” of an iwi member. Truth is, the iwi position on any kaupapa can be influenced by many factors, not all of them easily seen by hapū, whānau or individuals. It won’t necessarily be the case that iwi will all share the same view on the problem, or the correct solution. Some iwi might not even feel we should change how we do government. This might come across as harsh but let’s be real: Iwi leaders have fought over the past few decades to lift their people from oppression. Many of them haven’t seen their own children grow up, because of their dedication to this struggle. They’ve gotten to the point where finally, they can knock on the doors of power and demand exclusive meetings, where they can acquire funding before a budget is released, and avoid contestable funding rounds. It’s understandable that after an intergenerational fight to get that far, not all of them will be so keen to change how we do government. Especially if there is no clear vision for what will replace it.

3. Disinformation – As I’ve said before, numerous times, Te Ao Māori are particularly susceptible to disinformation networks, because our confidence in institutions such as government, media, and science are understandably low (if not completely shot). When distrust is a survival tool, it can also be weaponised against you, to create even more distractions for your energy.

4. Capitalism/material need – As I mentioned above, there are some who believe we can capitalism our way out of colonialism, and that if we can economically flourish, that this will represent the liberation of our people. For them, they would prefer we focus on capitalist success, and this could be another group who is not so upset by this government’s values. The idea of material wealth as a solution is also attached to another concern around the material needs of our worst impacted whanau. While a number of us may be chasing political authority over our worlds, there are real concerns that this overlooks the immediate, and urgent needs of those worst impacted by colonialism.

5. Incremental change vs Radical change – there are also those who disagree on the appropriateness of radical change, compared to incremental change. For those opposed to radical change, if you reach for too much, you’re not being realistic. They might not feel Te Ao Māori is ready for political authority over our own worlds. They might feel that reaching for such change is a waste of important energy, and we are better to just go for a slow, steady increase in rights and opportunities. For those who support radical change, this may be seen as a rare opportunity for important shifts – especially when we are dealing with time-bound issues such as the climate crisis, and that small incremental change might never actually get us where we need to be.

6. Competing issues and power – What we are facing is a political crisis, but because of the way political power shapes society, it impacts us across multiple fronts, causing reo crises, hauora crises, economic crises etc. If we cannot come together over the role of political power, we can get caught up thinking this is about multiple competing issues, and (this next part is important) political power is just another issue, alongside all the other crises rather than shaping them. To complicate it further, there are people who strongly believe that focusing on Wellington ignores the power you have in your own community to make a change about the reo, or your taiao – they feel that talking about the political arrangement we all live under gives Wellington too much power. Our failure to address these differences has led to many hui about self-determination being derailed, or diluted, by multiple competing interests and ideas.

For many of these issues, what is needed is not only wānanga, but Indigenous critical thinking. By that, I mean a way of assessing our crisis that takes into account who we come from, what we have been through, and where we want to be headed. A way of thinking that is rooted in tikanga and mātauranga Māori, without excluding those who have been culturally dispossessed by colonialism. A way of thinking that is aware of how colonialism works, and how it’s infiltrated our worlds. We need to support ways of seeing our problems so that we are responding to the problem, not responding to a personality, or an identity, or a song or an insecurity, or even worse, responding to an illusion that doesn’t even exist.

So, you see, there are multiple barriers to kotahitanga. This doesn’t mean they are insurmountable – but if we are to surmount them, we will need more wānanga (at more levels than just national hui) and we will need to apply more critical thinking. We don’t have to all think the same, or act the same, but if enough of us can come to a consensus on the nature of the problem in front of us, and can respect our different strengths and approaches, then we may fully see the power and potential of kotahitanga.

For more discussions on Indigenous critical thinking, check out the new Tūturu episode, dropping 11 September. Here are some sneak previews of the wānanga:

He Mihi Aroha Ki a Kīngi Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII

Kei he mai koe
Kei he mai koe e tai whakarunga
E te tai whakararo
Na Porourangi e
Na Kahungunu koe
Na Mahinaarangi e
Ko Potatau Te Wherowhero
Ko koe Tuheitia
(nā Ngārimu Parata)1

Over the past week, we have witnessed the multitudes come, in their aroha, to pay respects to the deeply beloved Kīngi Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII. They have come as iwi and hapū of the Tainui confederation, they have come as iwi from across Te Ao Māori, they have come as organisations, they have come from across Te Moananui a Kiwa to recognise his mana and leadership. I’ve reflected on this, on the loss experienced by his whānau (particularly on Fathers Day), and his iwi – and listening to his contributions to so many kaupapa has been inspiring. Over this time I’ve also reflected deeply on my own interactions with the Kīngitanga, in relation to my work with the Doctrine of Discovery.

Back in 2019, in the middle of Tuia250, I received an invite from the Kīngitanga to present on the Doctrine at their annual lecture series at Waikato University. I was somewhat taken aback, as it was a contentious time for this discussion, and at that time, even some of our own leaders in Te Ao Māori were still somewhat ambivalent about the Doctrine of Discovery and the themes therein. I presented there as well as installing an art exhibition on the Doctrine of Discovery, including works by Derek Lardelli, Robyn Kahukiwa, Ngāhina Hohaia, Rangi Kipa, Israel Tangaroa Birch, Rachael Rakena, Reuben Friend and others. I met with Puhi Āriki Ngāwai Hono-i-te-Pō and Korotangi, the questions they posed were insightful, and their manner extremely gracious.

It would be so easy, for an institution named as it is, with such clear piringa to hāhi karaitiana as it has, to either avoid the conversation, or to look at the surface and feel judged by the themes of the Doctrine, to call it anti-monarchal or anti-Christian (which many do, in error). But not the Kīngitanga, indeed they were one of the first institutions to invite me in to listen and kōrero. To me, this is not only good leadership and remarkable grace, but the greatest expression of faith in our people.

This is also what I saw in the Kīngitanga initiation of the hui-a-motu this year. For me, the essence of good leadership has always been how to navigate seemingly conflicting views. Leadership is easy in times of peace and agreement. It’s in navigating conflict that good leadership is most needed. Too often, the compulsion is to control the kōrero, control the response, or to condemn people for what we think they are saying, rather than listen carefully, and try to find a way through, together. If you are committed to kotahitanga, you will advocate for wānanga to take place, and often through that process you will find that what you thought were conflicting views, were not actually so much in conflict, after all. But it takes grace, patience, and more than anything, it takes faith in our people to work it out together. I saw this again in his speech after the second hui-a-motu in Kahungunu. In expressing his honest fears, which he knew many might not agree with, he modelled a way of navigating difference that was earnest, and honest, but respectful. We need more of that if we are to arrive to kotahitanga.

Over the years I’ve heard people (largely Christians but also at times monarchists) who feel confronted by the story of the Doctrine, ask me how they can reconcile it with their view of the world. While I don’t consider it my place to recraft their worldview for them, I do encourage them to stay in the discussion. I also share with them that I have witnessed many others who have undertaken this journey and come to a position on the Doctrine in profound and respectful ways. It doesn’t have to lead to abandonment of your faith, or other parts of your world. It doesn’t have to be a fight inside of you, integrating an understanding of the Doctrine of Discovery into your world can be a process of whakarongo, wānanga and healthy re-framing.

And maybe, if you can carry out your internal processing this way, you can navigate other conflicts around you that way too. Were all leaders this way inclined, the histories we recount could have been very different to what we face today.

Were all leaders this way inclined, the futures we face may yet be abundant for all.

For your grace, courage, commitment to kōtahitanga, and faith in our people, ka tūpou tēnei mokopuna a Hikurangi ki a koe, e te Kīngi, me tō rangatiratanga.

  1. The recomposing of Kāti Ra e Hika follows from a longheld Ngāti Porou tradition of composing a new verse for this waiata for the loss of the highest esteemed leaders. ↩︎

NZ Media Is Soaked In Oil and Racism

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS RACIST MEDIA

We cannot overstate the importance of media in upholding colonial supremacy. It can set norms through promoting science, but it can also shape public opinion through appealing to emotions, values or desires. Media drives narratives, and from our earliest days – even as we sat around fires in caves – narratives have been a dominant form of social control. Media narratives shape how we make sense of, and respond to social issues and challenges around us. They communicate ideas of what is acceptable, and who we should aspire to be like, or who we should reject and revile. For this reason, the person telling the narrative has always been very important. It is their perspective that will work its way into the hearts and minds of the people – and the will of the people will determine who will lead, and where they will lead us.

Throughout history we have seen the importance of how shaping the narrative of an issue, shapes how it is responded to – this is the very point of propaganda, misinformation and disinformation – it is not for its own sake, but to shape how people respond to an issue – including endorsing violent colonialism and acts of war. Aotearoa is no exception to this. If we look to the history of news media in Aotearoa we see a recurrent theme: colonial land grabbing. Some of our most longstanding news publications are tied into our history of colonial racism, the most pertinent of which right now, is the New Zealand Herald who last week accepted advertising dollars from right-wing conservative group Hobson’s Pledge for this old racist (and completely false and misleading) chestnut:

It’s a tried and true racial divisive tactic, that Hobson’s Pledge have relied upon at regular intervals to stoke anxiety and direct hate and fear towards Māori. If you’d like to know the details on how and why it is false and misleading, here is the statement from Te Hunga Roia Māori/Māori Law Society:


Māori Journalist’s Association Kawea Te Rongo also issued a swift condemnation and immediately reached out to Māori journalists at the Herald to offer support.

What I’d prefer to focus on, though, is the role of media in upholding racism in Aotearoa, and perhaps one way we can tell that story is also through the Herald.

Founded in 1863, the New Zealand Herald eventuated out of a spat between partners William Chisholm Wilson and John Williamson, who together ran “The New Zealander”. Whereas John Williamson opposed the war upon Māori, Wilson supported it, and after splitting to start the New Zealand Herald, called the war the “native rebellion”. Wilson’s distate for Māori rights was on full display in his very first Herald editorial, where he wrote:

And this little gem:

Even though it’s evident William and Wilson felt differently, these were still not unusual sentiments for the average 19th century European colonial “settler”, nor the average colonial editor. Other contemporaries of the New Zealand media scene included Julius Vogel, who as a politician was an avid supporter of “assisted settlement” (ie offering land and benefits for settlers to move here from UK and Europe) and rapid acquisition of Māori land for those purposes, as well as Edward Wakefield, also a politician and nephew of infamous Edward Gibbon Wakefield who founded the New Zealand Company. From the very outset, New Zealand media has held a deep relationship with political and economic dispossession of Māori.

The Herald’s first HQ in Queen Street Auckland

The Wilson family would eventually become somewhat of a newspaper dynasty, eventually forming media organisation Wilson & Horton, which would eventually become NZME (owner of NZ Herald and 22 other New Zealand regional newspapers), and the Wilson family has remained prominent over time through the organisation right through to today where descendant Matthew Wilson remains the NZME Chief Operating Officer.

That’s not to point the finger at Matthew Wilson’s heritage, of course. That is merely one interesting facet in a multi-layered complex of influencing factors, including stakeholders and board – as has been pointed out in social media this past week. If we look to the board chair, Barbara Chapman, we see that she is also the Chair of Genesis Energy, who own the Huntly coal-powered power station. Barbara is also the deputy Chair of the NZ Initiative, one of 2 New Zealand partners to the anti-Indigenous, anti-climate justice Atlas Network. She is also an independent director on the board of Fletcher Building (infamous for its attempted development of whenua Māori at Ihumātao).

Let us also look to the major stakeholders of NZME, the largest of which is Citicorp, who deal largely in mining and metals, and the second largest of which is Clearstream who provide financial services to Shell Oil. Together, these two groups hold nearly 36% of the shares of NZME.

In fact if you look at the top 20 list of NZME shareholders, the vast majority are associated with minerals extraction companies, accounting for just over 70% of all NZME shares.

Of course, this story can easily be told by a timeline of racist material alone, walking back from last week’s front page through history we can pretty much just throw a dart at any week on the calendar and find racist material that is funded by the far right.

Remember this other false and misleading full page spread, funded by the far-right conservative “think tank” NZCPR.


NZCPR also paid NZME to run this article in the Otago Daily Times, based upon Don Brashes “Kiwi not Iwi” campaign slogan – and weirdly enough the Herald then did a story on how racist that was.

And of course last year the Herald took more money from Hobson’s Pledge to run this full page advertorial which amounted to little more than “Māori are taking over”

And we can also look to the media who drove public hatred towards Māori health reforms – a particularly disgusting media attack which framed our attempts to stop dying early preventable deaths as being somehow unfair to pākeha.

image from E-tangata


And of course there are the long history of racist cartoons about Māori, from Al Nisbet’s more recent collection in 2013:

To this Al Nisbet cartoon from 2001:

To this one published by the NZ Herald in 1949:


Going all the way back to this gem from 1906, by NZME back when it was Wilson & Horton:

So none of this is new, and in spite of numerous “mea culpa” statements, it has not changed. Media has always been a corporate tool to direct public opinion and influence politics. As Professor Daniel Nyberg points out in his paper on corporate lobbying as political corruption, corporations have tried to influence government policy ever since the corporate form of organising was established in the 17th century.

Early joint-stock companies created for the purpose of facilitating colonialism, by date of royal charter

It’s important to note that this corporate form of organising is also deeply rooted in colonisation, with some of the earliest, and most long-running joint-stock companies being dedicated to the task of facilitating colonialism, and receiving a royal charter to do so, beginning with the East India Company, followed by many others including the Virginia Company, the Massachusetts Company, the Royal African Company, the Van Diemen’s Land Company, the Canada Company, and so on and so forth until we reach the (infamous in NZ) New Zealand Company, who received their royal charter in 1841. Ironic given that the rampant land theft by the New Zealand Company up to 1840 was a determining factor for the drafting, and signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi. When I say that corporate empire is fashioned upon classic empire, I’m not being cute.

Nyberg’s paper points to the purchase of media space as being one of the dominant ways in which corporations hold more power than citizens when it comes to influencing government:

“Speech in the public sphere is expensive, and opposing opinions can be crowded out with money (Dawood, 2015). This direct and undue influence means that those with the greatest wealth can buy space in mass media, thereby providing a greater opportunity to influence opinions in the public sphere (Murray & Nyberg, 2020), either by making direct arguments against public policies (e.g., regulation of tobacco or fossil fuels) (Murray et al., 2016) and public concerns (e.g., climate change) (Wright & Nyberg, 2015), or by funding advertisements for political candidates (e.g., through Super PACs) (Stoll, 2015).”

He later points out that the rise in social media and free online content means that media corporations are even more dependent upon advertising revenue than ever before, and this of course creates an even greater risk for political corruption through corporate-financed media. Of course, when we are also living under a government that prioritises privatisation of public assets, this gives corporations an even greater foothold in our political landscape, and all of it amounts to a system that is ANYTHING BUT democratic, all the while pointing to Māori, and other marginalised groups, as being some kind of threat to democracy – but of course this is because Māori rights, like all Indigenous rights, have always been the strongest roadblock to corporate mineral and freshwater extraction, and that is why we are consistently attacked in the media. The racism is not for its own sake, it functions to stoke the anxiety of NZ middle class, weaponise them against us, and legitimise neoliberal, far-right policies and corporate extraction.

The threat to democracy and wellbeing is, and always has been, rich, colonial capitalists.

INDIGENOUS LOVE WILL PREVAIL

Indigenous love will prevail.
It has prevailed for millenia,
and will continue to prevail.
For 500 years
the colonial machine has thrown everything it has at us
It has literally dropped nuclear bombs on us
And when the dust settles, we are still here.
Standing in our righteous truth,
in spite of all its bloodstained, stolen wealth,
armed multitudes
and ill-gotten political power,
it has still not succeeded in its intent
to rid the world of us,
so that it can live guilt free of its shameful greed
The colonial God must be frustrated, indeed.

The “good doctor” Isaac Featherston said
that the duty of the colonizer
Is to smooth the pillow of the dying native,
so that history will have no reproach.
Yet here we are today.
Maintaining true history,
calling out his absurdity.
And it’s the colonizer
who cannot sleep at night
No cool underside of the pillow
For sweaty colonial fever-dreams
Huffing and puffing their projections
Flailing desperately, calling everyone else
The abuser
The beneficiary
The thief
Their morbid fear of being exposed
Surpassed only by the dread of retribution
Underwritten by the lack of requisite imagination
to comprehend the power
of Indigenous love.

Indigenous love will prevail.
Did you ever consider
that our very creation story, is a love story?
The Indigenous, immortal love of Rangi and Papa.
A love that prevails even in separation,
with every dew drop
with every rainfall
with every sigh of mist.
A love that brought forth trees, and streams,
wind, and fire,
the moon, the stars
and all of us
standing here today.
Products of unwavering, enduring, ever-expanding
Indigenous love.

Indigenous love will prevail.
Because it remembers.
It is the love of ancestors
never forgotten.
Loved in song, in story,
In lullaby and oratory.
Passed on, and on,
like the waves of our Moana
A never ending series of new beginnings,
new Indigenous love stories
prevailing against the odds
Over, and over again.

It is the love of elders
And respect for all they have survived,
all the Indigenous love they have carried
for us, the new generation of Indigenous lovers.
It is the love, and protection
of women and children
and generations yet to come.

It is the love of babies
born and died long before us
who never returned home from school.
It is the timeless call for justice.
The call for women
to be returned
with dignity
from landfills
back to their families
who have never stopped loving them.

There is nothing as limitless
as the bonds of Indigenous love,
invoked across eons.
Connections spanning back
and forward
through time
And out across the universe
to all species,
and elements
Both seen and unseen
All of whom can be called upon
So that we can, and will, prevail

Indigenous love
is the love of land,
the love of water,
the love of skies.
It is the love the world needs.
The love that started with Her.
The love of Papatuanuku,
for all her children.
From the river to the sea
Across to Kanaky
Always was, always will be.

Indigenous love will prevail. ✊🏾❤️