Always Speaking E-Book

Veronica Tawhai

• Herausgeber: Huia Publishers
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

This is a collection of papers that examine the current place of the Treaty of Watangi in core public policy areas. The authors analyse the tensions and dynamics in the relationship between Maori and the Crown in their areas of expertise, detail the key challenges being faced, and provide insights on how these can be overcome. The policy areas covered in the collection span the environment, Maori and social development, health, broadcasting, the Maori language, prison and the courts, local government, research, science and technology, culture and heritage, foreign affairs, women's issues, labour, youth, education, economics, housing and the electoral system.

Leseprobe

First published in 2011 by Huia Publishers

39 Pipitea Street, PO Box 17–335

Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand

www.huia.co.nz

ISBN 978-1-86969-481-4 (print)ISBN 978-1-77550-020-9 (ebook)

Copyright © the authors 2011

Cover artwork: ‘Tuapeka’ by Jermaine Reihana

Ebook conversion 2021 by meBooks

This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the prior permission of the publisher.

National Library of New Zealand Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

Always speaking : the Treaty of Waitangi and public policy / edited by Veronica MH. Tawhai and Katarina Gray-Sharp.

ISBN 978-1-86969-481-4

1. Treaty of Waitangi (1840) 2. Maori (New Zealand people)—

Government policy. [1. Tiriti o Waitangi. reo 2. Mana whakahaere. reo

3. Tōrangapū. reo] I. Tawhai, Veronica MH. (Veronica Makere Hupane)

II. Gray-Sharp, Katarina. III. Title.

320.60993—dc 22

Published with the assistance of Te Pūtahi-ā-Toi, School of Māori Studies, Massey University, and Manu Ao Academy

He mihi tēnei ki te hunga e kaingākaunui ana ki te Tiriti o Waitangi, me tōna whakatinanatanga hei tūāpapa i te ao tōrangapū.

Koutou kua para i te huarahi, e kore e warewaretia.

Ki ngā kaituhi o te puka nei me ngā kaitautoko hoki, tēnā koutou.

Heoi, tēnā tātau.

Veronica thanks her whānau for their support in the development of this publication.

Katarina dedicates her contribution to her parents, who always believed in her.

Contents

Foreword

Professor Sir Mason Durie

Introduction

1.‘Ko Te Mana Tuatahi’: The Treaty of Waitangi and Te Reo Māori

Professor Taiarahia Black

2.Full, Exclusive and Undisturbed Possession: Māori Education and the Treaty

Associate Professor Huia Tomlins-Jahnke and Krystal Te Rina Warren

3.Good Governance: The Case of Health Equity

Associate Professor Papaarangi Reid

4.Te Tiriti o Waitangi in International Relations and Trade

Dr Maria Bargh

5.Taonga Tuku Iho: Cultural and Heritage Landscapes

Dr Huhana Smith

6.In Search of Certainty: Local Government Policy and the Treaty of Waitangi

Associate Professor Janine Hayward

7.Ngā Tikanga Katoa Rite Tahi: The Treaty and the Electoral System

Veronica MH Tawhai

8.Time and Place: Youth Development and the Treaty

Dr Teorongonui Josie Keelan

9.Māori Women, Maternity Services and the Treaty of Waitangi

Dr Christine M Kenney

10.Tamariki Māori: Protection and Rights of Māori Children

Dr John Waldon

11.Whānau Development and the Treaty of Waitangi: The Families Commission / Kōmihana ā Whānau Work Programme

Dr Kathie Irwin and Kim Workman

12.The Treaty of Waitangi and Policy in Māori Broadcasting

Dr Leonie Pihama and Carl Mika

13.Ō Rātou Kāinga: Tino Rangatiratanga and Contemporary Housing Policy

Katarina Gray-Sharp

14.Māori Land Development and the Treaty: The Erosion of Tino Rangatiratanga

Dr Colin Knox

15.Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the New Zealand Public Sector

Haami Piripi

16.Rangatahi Courts of New Zealand: Kua Takoto te Mānuka, Auē Tū Ake Rā!

Judge Heemi Taumaunu

17.Lasting Peace and the Good Life: Economic Development and the ‘Āta noho’ Principle of Te Tiriti o Waitangi

Associate Professor Manuka Henare

Contributors

Bibliography

Index

Foreword

Professor Sir Mason Durie

Tēnā koutou katoa.

‘Always Speaking’: The Treaty of Waitangi and Public Policy canvasses the application of the Treaty of Waitangi to a range of disciplines, subject areas and challenges in the twenty-first century. Whether or not the signatories to the Treaty in 1840 had public policy in mind, there can be little doubt that they were all too well aware of the impending societal changes that were about to transform Aotearoa New Zealand. New technologies, a written language, a cash economy, national governance, and individualised land titles were only some of the radical shifts that confronted Māori. Then, adaptation was largely seen from a coloniser perspective. Notwithstanding the guarantees contained in the Treaty, the general expectation was that Māori should embrace the Westminster traditions and become accustomed to a British way of life.

However, treaties are never uni-directional. Indeed the whole purpose of a treaty is to establish a basis for trust and to identify ways in which co-operation can proceed in order to deliver mutual benefits without extinguishing either customary experience or ambitions for a new social order. Those two broad expectations do not always sit easily alongside each other. But over time, and after a fair amount of trial and error, there has been recognition that the Treaty of Waitangi provides a touch-stone upon which two world views, two sets of traditions, and two understandings can create a society where indigeneity and modern democratic practices can meet.

Although the interface between the two parameters has yet to be fully understood, the chapters in this book are evidence that the interface has the potential to be a rich source of innovation and inventiveness. Several facets of public policy are explored by authoritative authors highlighting both shortcomings, where the Treaty’s promises have yet to be realised, and opportunities, where indigeneity might be better represented in policies and programmes devised by the state.

This timely publication has affirmed that the importance of the Treaty of Waitangi lies less in its historical significance and more with a relevance to contemporary times. That should not be too surprising. The Treaty of Waitangi was never about perpetuating the past; nor was the focus ever intended to dismiss indigenous perspectives. Essentially the Treaty was about designing a future for Aotearoa New Zealand where Māori world views, rights, and leadership would be reflected in the day to day life of the democratic nation and the ways in which public policies would be determined. ‘Always Speaking’: The Treaty of Waitangi and Public Policy continues that theme of present day relevance and in the process provides a wide range of Māori perspectives across an equally wide range of current concerns. The authors have shared valuable insights that will greatly enrich understandings about the Treaty, and perhaps more importantly, will provide signposts for Aotearoa New Zealand in the twenty-first century.

Kia māia,

Mason Durie, KNZM

Introduction

“The statement that the Treaty ‘speaks’ infers a living organism with a life force of its own – indivisible, and holistic. This life force exists not by its principles alone, but also through its word (spirit) and its accruing mana”.

Dame Mira Szaszy1

Although much has been written about the relevance of the Treaty of Waitangi to policy-making in New Zealand,2 little investigation has been made into if and how the Treaty is actually observed across the public policy fields of government.3 The collection of chapters in this volume provides a picture of the Treaty of Waitangi as it is written into public policy in New Zealand: where is it acknowledged; where it is yet to be seen; ongoing developments; and the challenges ahead. Although there are areas of difficulty, the picture is one of hope, particularly in the many ideas and opportunities presented as to where these developments might begin.

The common message underpinning Māori efforts towards the Treaty of Waitangi in public policy is clear – policy honouring the Treaty is policy that can better deliver positive outcomes for Māori communities, and thereby to wider New Zealand. Although some progress has been made, past governments’ performance in ensuring the rights and wellbeing of Māori is protected has been disastrous. There is yet to be full recognition that effective public policy for Māori is built upon Māori priorities, cultural values and aspirations. Perhaps in response to this, there is in this book a distinct move away from Article Three’s ‘equal citizenship’, which has tended to result in an ‘equal treatment’ approach. Rather the focus has shifted towards Article One’s ‘kāwanatanga’, the meaning of ‘good governance’, and how Māori can greater monitor and influence the government in their policy-making functions.

‘Tino rangatiratanga’ and the struggles of Māori to ensure a degree of authority and control over the decisions that will affect Māori lives subsequently shapes a large part of this work. The making of public policy for Māori without Māori input or direction, now and in the past, is considered a breach of the tino rangatiratanga guarantee. Similarly is the making of public policy for the wider country independent of Māori considerations. The history of Māori loss of land and resources, authority, and the ability of Māori to regenerate language, knowledge, and thereby their health and wellbeing, is revisited in many of the chapters as a way to make sense of the current impoverished position of Māori across many public policy fields.

That Māori are actively engaging with and in government to see this position transformed is evident in the discussions appearing across this volume. Many of the chapters mark the efforts of Māori to ensure, where they can, that aspects of the Treaty are acknowledged within their field. Others provide critical analyses and recommendations on where developments can start. The several case studies appearing in this book emphasise the very specific nature of much of this work, highlighting an era of creativity and commitment towards achieving Treaty of Waitangi goals, and across ever-expanding areas.

‘Always speaking’ is a phrase which has been drawn upon by Māori, in the work of the Waitangi Tribunal, in the courts and by departments of government to convey this central role for the Treaty of Waitangi in society. It affirms the relevance of the Treaty to development across all public policy areas, and at all times. Similarly it reflects the common thread weaving through the chapters of this work: that the Treaty is a foundation for public policy in Aotearoa New Zealand, and that development begins with a commitment to its intentions, provisions and principles. Without attempting to be exhaustive, the seventeen chapters provide an investigation into the place of the Treaty across core public policy areas.

Professor Taiarahia Black begins our investigation of public policy with a discussion on the Treaty of Waitangi and the revitalisation of te reo Māori (the Māori language). He notes that, despite efforts over the last two decades to revive te reo, as described in the Waitangi Tribunal’s latest report, te reo Māori remains in danger of extinction. As a basis for revitalisation, Black draws upon a waiata by the prophet Te Kooti and his reference to the ‘mana’ of the Treaty. Language loss for Māori accompanied mass alienation of land and cultural dispossession. In guaranteeing the mana of Māori, the Treaty necessitates the revitalisation of te reo Māori as a basis for Māori cultural, intellectual and spiritual wellbeing.

Associate Professor Huia Tomlins-Jahnke and Te Rina Warren survey the history of public policy for Māori education, mapping the slow recognition of the Treaty within the classroom to its current status as a foundation for education that enables Māori student success. Past educational policies focused on assimilating Māori into a more ‘civilised’ European society. Yet, the rise of kōhanga reo and kura kaupapa in the 1980s, and active involvement in the development of policies like Ka Hikitia in 2008, have contributed to the validation of Māori identities as a basis for education policy for Māori. Recognition of the Treaty in wider society offers a basis for Māori-relevant educational provision, although, as Tomlins-Jahnke and Warren note, public policy remains reactive to the political attitudes of the day.

Associate Professor Papaarangi Reid leads our Treaty exploration into the area of health. In an innovative discussion, Reid applies a health-based framework to study the Treaty across three levels: the microscopic, the individual unit, and the societal level. A personal analysis is followed by an exposition on ‘kāwanatanga’, the notion of good governance and equity in the area of Māori health. As a basis for moving forward, Reid suggests five areas: minimising material deprivation; eliminating Māori over-representation in low socioeconomic areas; minimising the effects of exposure to chronic stress; eliminating racism and discrimination; and eliminating toxic stress. Such an approach would not only fulfil guarantees to Māori under the Treaty of Waitangi, but would also address what countries internationally have adopted as citizens’ ‘right to health’.

Dr Maria Bargh expands our investigation into the field of international relations and trade policy. Highlighting elevated levels of Māori engagement in international relations and trade in 1840, Bargh raises the issue of customary exercise of Māori sovereignty and decision-making in this area, based on Māori socio-political and economic practices. However, an examination of recent international agreements entered into by New Zealand indicate that Māori have not participated or been consulted in their formulation, including the free-trade and closer partnership agreements with Hong Kong, China, Thailand, Singapore and Australia. Overall the assumption by the Crown to exercise sovereignty on behalf of the country in international relations and trade matters is underscored as a breach of the Treaty.

Dr Huhana Smith, in the fifth chapter, explores the field of cultural and heritage landscape protection and maintenance in Aotearoa New Zealand. The Treaty of Waitangi dynamics between the obligations of kāwanatanga and rights of rangatiratanga are examined by Smith, who highlights Māori reclamations over protection of their ‘taonga tuku iho’. Throughout the 1990s, policy development by government failed to adequately address protection of hapū and iwi land and water cultural heritage sites, such as wāhi tapu. This included a lack of comprehensiveness across core legislation, and lost opportunities to afford Māori greater involvement. Smith provides an example of one of the many hapū-led restoration projects, based on application of their own knowledges and practices for kaitiakitanga over hapū and iwi sites of cultural and ancestral significance.

Associate Professor Janine Hayward provides a discussion on the history of the relationship between Māori and public policy in local government. From the Town and Country Planning Act 1974, which provided the catalyst for revisiting local government responsibilities under the Treaty, policy development for local government has subsequently had the Treaty high on the agenda. Significant provisions appeared in the Local Government Act 2002, to foster Māori participation in local government decision-making processes. However, further development into partnership and co-management arrangements, as raised by Treaty settlements, has been resisted. Subsequently, Hayward highlights the challenge of developing policy for local government that adequately ensures local kāwanatanga functions of active protection, as well as guidelines for engaging with local Māori in their exercise of tino rangatiratanga.

Veronica Tawhai continues previous chapters’ discussions on constitutional issues by examining the electoral system. Policies were developed by the Settler Parliament to facilitate Māori participation within the electoral system and the realisation of Article Three, but in a way that breached tino rangatiratanga guaranteed in Article Two. Although initially to restrict Māori political influence, the Māori Parliamentary seats have become an essential avenue through which Māori have guaranteed representation, and are thereby a form of ‘active protection’. As Tawhai argues, the seats, along with the opportunities under the MMP electoral system however only deliver to Māori the ability to participate, and do not provide for the monitoring role of Māori over kāwanatanga, or for the exercise of tino rangatiratanga as the Treaty intended.

Dr Teorongonui Josie Keelan explores Māori youth development and the Treaty. Demographically, youth make up a significant proportion of the Māori population – in some regions, over half. However, varied definitions of youth across different public policy-making limit effectiveness. Keelan thus encourages Māori to define youth within whānau, hapū and iwi contexts, as opposed to being reliant on changing public policy approaches. This includes the use of the term ‘rangatahi’, as opposed to other terms that may be more iwi-specific and thereby relevant. An analysis of strategic documents, including the Youth Development Strategy Aotearoa, reveals untapped opportunities for Treaty relationships. To this effect, Keelan encourages Māori to take the initiative for youth development, beginning with including Māori youth in strategic and action plans.

In the ninth chapter, Dr Christine Kenney provides a case study of public policy for Māori women through the field of maternity services. The role of Māori women as bearers and protectors of whakapapa has endured, despite the loss amongst some whānau of mātauranga (knowledge) and tikanga (practices) associated with childbirth. Addressing this loss and allowing for regeneration of these knowledges is, as Kenney argues, an important aspect of maternity care and services public policy. However, there are serious challenges that require addressing in the development of maternity services, including Eurocentric midwifery practices and low participation rates of Māori as midwife practitioners. A Māori-centred model of partnership, drawing upon the Treaty, could facilitate greater social and professional development and self-determination of Māori women in childbirth and midwifery.

Dr John Waldon discusses the protection and rights of Māori children in the context of the Treaty of Waitangi and the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. With reference to Article Two’s guarantee of cultural protection, and Article Three’s right of citizenship, Waldon explores the relative disparities of tamariki Māori. Structural and intermediate determinants, alongside inconsistent ethnicity classification standards, require information to rectify. Waldon offers research that re-centres tamariki as participants in their wellbeing. Through questionnaires, reo-speaking children and their guardians quantified child health. The author concludes that poor indigenous child health should not be posed as inescapable. Solutions which benefit them will benefit their non-indigenous peers. Indigenous children can live a life beyond the constraints of poverty.

Dr Kathie Irwin and Kim Workman provide an example of public policy in the area of whānau development through the Families Commission / Kōmihana ā Whānau work programme. The development of a five-point Whānau Strategy places whānau as a central focus in the work of the Commission. In addition to research partnerships, significant work has been undertaken to develop the capacity of the Commission to engage with whānau. This includes the formulation of the Whānau Strategic Framework, a Whānau Reference Group, Kaupapa Māori projects, and the establishment of He Waka Whānui, strategic relationship developments. As Irwin and Workman explain, the Treaty principles of partnership, protection and participation have provided a foundation for these enhancements with the hope of delivering sustainable, positive change for whānau.

In the twelfth chapter, Dr Leonie Pihama and Carl Mika provide an overview of Treaty of Waitangi advancements in the field of public policy for broadcasting. The issue of Māori representation in the media and access by Māori of broadcasting resources for reo revitalisation purposes are considered important Treaty rights. The history of the development of broadcasting in New Zealand and efforts by Māori to secure broadcasting as a tool is provided in detail, including the court cases addressing the issue. The establishment of the Māori Television Service is explored from the Aotearoa Broadcasting System through to the 2010 recommendations of the enabling legislation’s review. Although some gains have been made, Pihama and Mika argue that there is still much opportunity for development, particularly in mainstream media.

Katarina Gray-Sharp introduces the exploration of public policy through etymological and Treaty interpretations. In this thirteenth chapter of the volume, the Article Two provision of “te tino rangatiratanga o … o ratou kainga”, as it applies to rental housing legislation, is discussed by means of an examination of kāinga, tino rangatiratanga and tenure security. The notion of kāinga as Home/Family is illustrated through a relationship to fire, whilst three tino rangatiratanga conceptions are illuminated: rangatira, sovereignty, and autonomy. The problem of tenure insecurity is explored in an analysis of the Residential Tenancies Amendment Act 2010. It is concluded that just clauses, transparency, tenure incentives and alternative tenure models offer ways of ensuring tenure security and the Article Two promise for housing.

Dr Colin Knox provides a discussion of Māori land development and the implications of lost economic opportunity for Māori, through a historical review of public policy for Māori land. Beginning with pre-1840 economic activity, Knox details the Treaty signing, the changes in indigenous society and the gradual alienation of Māori land. Public policies for alienation included confiscation, the Native Lands Acts of 1862 and 1865 (which founded the Native Land Court), and the Native Land Act 1909. The establishment of the Waitangi Tribunal in 1975, and Office of Treaty Settlements some twenty years later, has provided an avenue for redress. From this point, Knox outlines, public policy needs to be developed that enables more effective Māori governance of Māori lands, including alignment with traditional values and tikanga.

In our fifteenth chapter, Haami Piripi investigates the development of the public sector in Aotearoa New Zealand. The notions of ‘public good’ and ‘public service’ are customary concepts underpinning Māori society and organisation, and can be seen in He Wakaputanga 1835 and the Treaty. Piripi plots the historical role of Crown public servants, initially, as agents of colonisation and, later, as employees of agencies born from legal challenges. Although problematic, the emergence of Treaty principles can be drawn upon as high-level public policy statements. Read alongside the Treaty, the principles can strengthen public policy development. The ability of the public sector to work with iwi as Treaty partners and the development of Māori public service structures will, in the future, be the basis for parity in key public policy areas.

Judge Heemi Taumaunu explains the background to and rationale underpinning the provision of court services for Māori youth upon marae. Known as Rangatahi Courts, the initiative “approaches a partnership model aspired to under the Treaty of Waitangi”.4 The point of distinction of Rangatahi Courts is that the programme incorporates Māori language and protocols as part of the court process. The Rangatahi Court attempts to progress positive outcomes for Māori youth by providing them with a process that affirms identity in a marae environment. However, warns Taumaunu, long-term success will rely on public policies and programmes being developed that can support and run in conjunction with the Rangatahi Court.

In our final chapter, Associate Professor Manuka Henare examines the Treaty and economic development. Henare provides a matrix of Māori ethics as a basis to understand Māori efforts in economic development. The notion of an Economy of Mana is introduced, based within historical, philosophical and anthropological kaupapa Māori notions of business, economics, knowledge transfer and the creation of knowledge and value. Further, a Māori approach to economics encompasses spiritual, cultural, environmental and economic wellbeing. Overall, the notion of ‘Āta noho’ from the Preamble of the Treaty is drawn upon as a principle for a lasting peace and a good life, and the basis for the right to Māori economic development.

May the chapters in this book provide hope and strategic direction for further public policy development in New Zealand, drawing upon the vision of the Treaty for a future beneficial to all.

END NOTES

1As cited in Royal Commission on Social Policy (1988, p. 48).

2See, for example, Royal Commission on Social Policy (1988), Durie (1989), and Barrett and Connolly-Stone (1998).

3Health and iwi social services are investigated in the Barrett and Connolly-Stone (1998) paper. A few select areas are also addressed in Belgrave, Kawharu, and Williams (2005).

4Davidson (2010, p. 13).

‘Ko Te Mana Tuatahi’: The Treaty of Waitangi and Te Reo Māori

Professor Taiarahia Black

Kāore te pō nei mōrikarika noa

Alas for this unhappy night

Te ohonga ki te ao rapu kau noa ahau

I wake to this world and search

Ko te mana tuatahi ko te Tiriti o Waitangi

The first mana is the Treaty of Waitangi

Ko te mana tuarua ko te Kooti Whenua

The second mana is the Land Court

Ko te mana tuatoru ko te Mana Motuhake

The third mana is the Separate Mana

1

This chapter addresses the Treaty of Waitangi and te reo Māori revitalisation. Government entities such as the Ministry of Education and the Māori Television Service have received increased funding in recent years. There has been a proliferation of Māori language programmes and resources across mainstream and immersion schools, and tertiary and iwi wānanga. Yet the Waitangi Tribunal, in 2010, stated that te reo Māori was still “approaching a crisis point and that urgent and far reaching change is required to save it”.2 The rich cadence of te reo Māori is disappearing, and with it will go the explanations of the Māori world. The only tool we will have to unlock the richness of our oral and written history will be English! Indeed, the 2010 report by the Waitangi Tribunal is a wake-up call. We are at odds with keeping the dignity of our reo alive. How did this happen? Simply, we continue to be caught up in the powerful processes of colonisation. It confronts us every day. Colonisation is the single greatest contribution to the loss of language, land, customs, and cultural practices. Herein we need something to inspire our broken and shattered reo dreams.

The Mana of the Treaty and te Reo

The title of this chapter, ‘Ko Te Mana Tuatahi’, is taken from a waiata tohutohu (song of instruction) composed by the nineteenth century prophet Te Kooti Ārikirangi Te Tūruki3 of Ngāti Maru and Rongowhakaata of Tūranga-nui-a-Kiwa (Gisborne area). In its entirety, this waiata, ‘Kāore Te Pō Nei Mōrikarika Noa’,4 is a piece of oral and written history composed in 1883 for opening the carved meeting-house Eripītana in Te Urewera, Te Whāiti.5 The waiata is about ‘telling one’s life story’; of sounds and voices of injustice; of colonisation and land alienation suffered by Māori, sanctioned in laws passed by the settler government, the effects of which echo in present day. This waiata has significance for Tūhoe and wider Māori, as it records the catastrophic period for Māori of enforced dispossession.

In 1840, when the Treaty of Waitangi was signed, land in Māori ownership measured 66,400,000 acres. By 1860, 21,400,000 acres were in Māori ownership. By 1891, eight years following Te Kooti’s composition, 11,079,486 acres were all that remained in Māori hands.6 The stories of unjust land legislation, enforced alienation and dispossession of culture are traditions that link strongly with the demise of the language. Forced displacement brought about a decreased efficacy of language for Māori. Given the high rate of land alienation, a significant proportion of Māori communities during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries were confronted with the unmitigated loss of language – language that had traditionally been an integral part of cultural and intellectual wellbeing.

The initiative by Te Kooti to cite the Treaty of Waitangi is inspirational, as he pointed to adherence to the Treaty of Waitangi based on the principle of mana.7 He then, like us now, had become all too aware that change was inevitable, but that cultural and customary integrity must be maintained. This is developed in the text: Ko te mana tuatahi ko te Tiriti o Waitangi (The first mana is the Treaty of Waitangi). This waiata was composed as a result of injustice and Te Kooti reminds the settler government not to forsake the mana contained in the Treaty of Waitangi, which promised a fair and just society. This waiata is far reaching in that respect, as Te Kooti is saying that the Treaty should be regarded as a foundation for meaningful discussions between Māori and the government. Te Kooti therefore draws upon the Treaty of Waitangi as a constitutional document. Citing the legal recognition of the Treaty’s constitutional status would appear a necessary step in progressing towards a just society.

Te Kooti also, however, refers to the spiritual status of the Treaty of Waitangi. His waiata is informed by a deep spiritual connection that derived in part from the lived experience of growing up as a Ngāti Maru, Rongowhakaata individual in the knowledge of te reo me ōna tikanga (language and customs). Te Kooti’s perspective on the Treaty is emphasised through his reference to ‘mana’ - the spiritual dimension, an integral aspect underpinning the search for justice and dignity. In this there is the opportunity to reframe and rediscover the artistry of te reo by linking it to the dignity of the Treaty of Waitangi. Te Kooti’s words in this waiata represent truth and reconciliation through storytelling. In this regard, it is based on the fundamental principle of dialogue between the past and present. In 1883 Te Kooti cautioned Māori through his waiata, urging them to continue the journey despite the obstacles they faced. He articulated the challenge to the survival of land, culture and a people, and suggests experiential learning to reach a site of resistance and renewal. This is the position for te reo, to resume resistance, and to seek a platform from which mana may emanate – a language plan linked to the Treaty of Waitangi.

Te Reo as a Taonga

Cultural heritage upon which intellectual and philosophical traditions are based is valued by Māori because it provides continuity with past wisdom. We need to increase the recognition of language as a taonga, as an essential foundation to heritage, and to culture, education, wānanga (scholarship) and wellbeing. This could result in extensive reo revitalisation strategies, both locally and nationally. We therefore must not neglect or lose sight of the status of the language as a taonga. By not keeping te reo alive and active ourselves, we are agreeing to the imposition of a society dominated by Crown hegemony, allowing it domination over the authority of te reo. This will lead to the extinguishing of the rich essence of our cultural heritage for the next succeeding generation of reo speakers. The cultural basis of Māori society will be at risk of being overcome by Eurocentric values and positions.

The Treaty of Waitangi as applied on the part of Māori in current times includes the quest to uphold the obligations of tūhonotanga (connections), of whakaora (vitality) and of mana (sovereignty). The Treaty as applied on the part of the government highlights their requirement to act in good faith, and to protect taonga. Te reo is one element of that taonga to be protected, nurtured and maintained. As stated in the Māori Language Strategy, “the Māori language is a taonga guaranteed to Māori people by the Treaty of Waitangi ... Māori will lead the revitalisation of the Māori language”.8 What connection is there between Te Kooti Ārikirangi Te Tūruki’s citing of the Treaty of Waitangi and ourselves as Māori today, in so far as te reo is concerned? The word ‘taonga’ cited in the Treaty presents a further obligation to Māori also: He taonga te reo, kia tukua ki tēnā whakatipuranga – reo heritage must be succeeded to each generation.

Land was and still is integral to whānau, hapū, and iwi identity and wellbeing. Part of that identity is language. A process of separation has taken place where several generations were removed from traditional tribal land-based ownership circumstances, kāinga (home) language, and livelihood. This accelerated social, cultural, intellectual, and customary, language dislocation and disorder. It is this fundamental process of forced depopulation in line with disease and dispossession that accelerated the loss of inherent values of speech. Hence artistic conversational reo use by the community has been affected and confined, and in some cases the language has been abandoned all together. The challenge for the reo speaking community is the protection and maintenance of cultural customary and language use.

Te Reo Use and Expression

Use and expression in te reo Māori in our wider society is constantly at variance. The dominant language, and thereby culture, is reinforced when Māori and Pākehā media, and indeed Māori leaders, speak in English, even within Māori forums. There are wider implications for Māori language revitalisation: it is closely associated to societal attitudes, values and beliefs towards the Māori language, irrespective of the recent report by Te Puni Kōkiri.9 To what extent are current policies a genuine act of reform with respect to language assessment, revitalisation and continuity, in consideration of our powerful media influences? The best instrument to advance te reo is the principle of indigeneity, and that te reo is our indigenous language, unique to Aotearoa – so if it is not used here, then where?

For example, in a high-level Māori politician’s debate March 14 2011 on Māori Television, all four politicians – Metiria Turei, Peter Sharples, Hēkia Parata and Parekura Horomia – debated the issues, yet chose to speak primarily in English. Increasingly over the last two or three decades, Māori politicians have been involved in the discernible push for te reo Māori. Despite this, all of the politicians in this debate chose to speak in English in this powerful medium. Consider the reality of language teachers in te reo immersion schools, and their efforts to introduce the richness of Māori debate into the classroom. The debates on Māori Television where te reo is not spoken are ineffective as a language resource. The message given in terms of language revitalisation leadership is that te reo is not the language in which to discuss political issues.

Through programmes such as this, te reo Māori does not register at all in the Māori political debating environment, as a language of critical thinking and assessment. This is a shame! Language erosion has come about not only because of assimilation, but also because of the history of subjugation. In the case of Māori Television’s debate, reo Māori communities have been denied a guardian or custodial role. Ultimately for the survival of te reo Māori, Māori should decide the value placed on te reo, and how that value applies in language use and expression.

Another example is the point of giving correct pronunciation to te reo Māori, on a day-to-day basis in English news items. Each day, the media commits the most inappropriate cultural and linguistic mangling of Māori language throughout their broadcasts. Mispronunciation is a very hefty insult to te reo, as it is for any language. It is active in our society and accepted; just turn on your television and radio, and listen to television and radio broadcasts. In terms of conflicting messages, the experiences are all too common for minority languages, where the insult is communicated to the greater population via broadcasting networks. Of course there are many broadcasters who make a very good effort to give correct pronunciation, but there are many others who are contributing to the endangerment of te reo Māori. It seems there is no sense of courtesy with regard to correct pronunciation, or a response to the need to promote and maintain te reo. In reality we are fed a well-worn trail of ‘mixed messages’ about the value of Māori language. On the one hand it is being taught, we are gaining high level qualifications in te reo, and people are saying that it is good to learn it. However, on the other hand, the language student becomes all too aware when they leave their formal language classes, an environment ‘safe’ from negative associations surrounding the language.

Te Reo Status and Standards

A minority language such as te reo is thus relegated in the perception of its reo speaking communities to a lower cultural norm. In this atmosphere, even Māori have contributed to this aspect of language demise, where the use of the language is prescribed only to certain societal functions. Take Te Kāea and Te Karere for instance. As you watch these two reo Māori news programmes on Māori Television and Television New Zealand, note how English is now accorded a place within the reo Māori news items. This position further supports the wider societal picture that te reo as a minority language is constantly in a suppressed, underdeveloped vogue across many domains – social, administration, education, civil service, offices of government, broadcasting, human and social mobility, planning, and economics. Te reo is being moulded to fit in with changing government and society language items, bringing about a Māori language shift. Such conflict is difficult to reconcile when a statutory body like the Waitangi Tribunal states “that the language overall is in worrying decline”.10

Further adding to the complexities is the influence of our print and technology culture, and our leaders’ reminders about innovation, globalisation, world indigenous interaction, religion, politics, creativity, marketing, dress code, intellect, visual beauty, power, and performance. I am not saying these are not necessary, but I am saying these elements have become much more powerful, and the price we pay is the loss of rediscovering or retaining the art of reo Māori conversation. For example, the creativity of reo Māori conversation is now being out-stripped by the continual rise of the ever-present online social networking sites.

The conflict, I believe, is in the status of the reo being constrained by the continued elevation of English. Our reo communities continue to devote their everyday lives to keeping te reo alive and revitalised, but it is the government departments (having received a high level of funding to support their organisation to meet public demands) that are failing language revitalisation. This sends compelling and mixed messages to the homes where Māori language is spoken, and to those reo communities who have created their own reo Māori speaking domains. These reo domains became corrupted by complacency. The discovery and maintenance of the fine art of reo Māori conversation and intergenerational transmission within the home, whānau and immersion kura, has been interrupted.

As part of the government’s programme in response to Māori language revitalisation and the directive to treat te reo as a taonga under the Treaty of Waitangi, questions should be asked. Is there a broadcasting policy where Māori and Pākehā reporters are required to maintain a satisfactory or high level standard of reo use, status and pronunciation? What about politicians? The role of our government entities is to serve their community in a manner that is committed to ensure high level broadcasting standards are met in te reo. Minority languages, such as te reo, are under threat. Therefore new legislation or policy changes need to make sure government departments properly address the question of language revitalisation. In this regard the Māori Language Commission, with support from Māori language academics, can take the lead in introducing a new language and broadcasting policy as part of their broader Māori language policy 2011–2020.

This form of Māori language policy can and should become part of the Māori Language Commission’s strategy. Within these suggested language and broadcasting policies, reo speaking communities can remind government departments to act honestly, fairly and reasonably, and to give status to te reo in accordance with commonly accepted standards. The departments can be directed to ensure Māori and Pākehā broadcasters not only respect the rights of proper language pronunciation, but give status to the use of te reo as they are required under the Treaty of Waitangi, and protection to and enhancement of te reo as a taonga of Aotearoa. The opportunity presents itself here to stimulate another policy that ensures broadcasters are always ethical and professional, respecting the rights of language delivery, using correct communication and pronunciation, and working harmoniously and courteously with the indigenous language of Aotearoa. The mere suggestion of such policy development is overdue.

Te Reo Revitalisation

Where do we go from here? What can we do to turn this situation around? One part of the solution lies with how Māori will establish and target a Māori language revitalisation plan to include policy, in this decade, to drive its strategies of reo revitalisation beyond 2020. What is needed is a plan that supports multiple reo immersion initiatives. The use of the term ‘Māori language revitalisation plan’ refers here to the organised pursuit of a solution to language retention, maintenance and regeneration. This plan can be centred with those whānau reo (reo-speaking whānau) and reo communities who have dedicated and devoted their lives to promoting and speaking te reo in their kāinga (homes), whānau and communities over successive generations. They are out there and we should take notice of them!

That is not to say that this language plan would disregard the efforts of language academies and their programmes. There are deliberate, systematically designed programmes in education and iwi wānanga, tertiary and immersion kura, with specialist resources to support and develop language speakers and writers. They are very productive, industrious, dynamic elements in the broader field of our vision and plans for Māori language revitalisation. Add to this corpus language planning, where formative activities include investigating and bringing in new terms, reforming spelling and adopting iwi-centred resources, all contributing to the organised pursuit of solutions for language revitalisation regeneration.

At an official level, language policy planning concerning the teaching and the use of the language is a move in the right direction, towards building language cultivation and use in specific places in and around Aotearoa New Zealand. In some cases we may have created a tedious, confined language form of planning, with our structured activities approaching a management ideal. In this situation, needs are rationally determined, goals explicitly stated, means carefully tailored to these ends, and results systematically monitored to permit adjustments. But it is within this very framework that we need to galvanise a new language paradigm of intellect, ideology and personality - a language plan that is extraordinarily Māori. The foundations of this paradigm can be founded within Māori pedagogy, which fits in with the reo speaking kāinga and reo communities.

We need to reconsider revisiting our oral speaking traditions, our communicative oral roots, as our base. Those roots use te reo within the whānau in a close association with our native speakers of te reo. When Māori entered the Māori language resurgence in the last three to four decades, the scene was spectacular because it had a clear sense of direction. It demonstrated a capacity for reo recovery and growth from our oral speaking communities. But what we failed to do then, and still fail to do now, was target those whānau and communities that speak te reo and consider: ‘What is their motivation to continue to use te reo within their whānau and their selective reo speaking communities? How can we build on these motivations?’

The efforts of these whānau-home reo communities are groundbreaking. They took up the challenge of reinterpreting their role not just as a whānau, but as a central point for the development of whānau, hapū, and iwi oral traditions as a stabilising influence within the whānau paradigm of speaking. The shining light has been the increasing importance placed on the origins of the oral traditions from whānau, hapū and iwi perspectives. With this we also need to revisit the assistance, guidance and support of knowledgeable native reo speakers. The questions raised are: ‘How do we “connect” with our oral literature, whose roots are firmly planted in the oral traditions? What difference does a work’s base in oral traditions make to effective critical, decisive thinking and speaking in te reo within te whānau and our reo speaking communities?’

This form of reo Māori, of pedagogy linked to the native reo speaker, establishes exciting times ahead in this decade and beyond. The oral tradition discovered by those whānau and reo communities puts forward a reo revitalisation platform that reaffirms oral traditions. It gives a voice that focuses and develops speaking skills, promotes sustainability, research and development. There are whānau and reo communities around the country who have mastered and discovered this form of sustainable oral artistic reo expression. A model emerges that places greater stress on whānau internal speaking environments, and the significance of oral tradition becomes the platform in those reo speaking whānau and communities. To be part of these conversations is invigorating, continuous, and unremitting.

This chapter therefore revisits this site of contestation: the rediscovery of the art of reo Māori conversation linked to Māori language revitalisation, as told through the telling of one’s own life story with the example of the composition of Te Kooti’s waiata tohutohu. One could develop a conversation around the reasons for this composition, and analyse its multifarious expressions, meanings, voices, selective syntax and the circumstances of the waiata. Within this fabric the conversation will become an artful, insightful biography with its carefully crafted oral and written historical accounts, revealing the vast network of intellect and recapturing the richness of an oral speaking style, both careful and provocative with a pace that draws in speakers and listeners. The opportunity to participate in the analysis of Te Kooti’s waiata is just one example within the paradigm of giving, creating and rediscovering the art of speaking and writing. Herein is the opportunity to investigate the forms, styles and the context of his waiata tohutohu and other waiata mōteatea (sung poetry).

Māori literature, our oral and written prose, is saturated with these forms of live literature. The secret of course is to recapture and rediscover the air, the presence, the response to the majesty of the landscape of words. In so doing we then know that we are in the presence of something greater than ourselves, and that our oral speaking arts can be inspiring and uplifting. Some reo-speaking whānau and communities are able to give explicit expression to this form of conversation, which is implicit in Māori thinking, but which Māori had hitherto taken for granted or have ignored. This form of conversation by these reo-speaking whānau and communities denotes an obligation of stewardship and protection. On the part of whānau, it is about the obligation of the reo-speaking whānau and communities to give, maintain and protect the mauri (life-force) of these oral and written sources. The position that I take is that herein lies the artful conversation sources, supported by a knowledgeable native speaker to the revitalisation of te reo within te reo o te whānau. In this respect, continuity brings about the process of directing attention to the way in which language is intimately related to perception and the powerful foundational platform of native reo speaker support of reo-speaking homes.

He Kāinga Reo Whānau, e Kore e Mimiti – A Home of Reo-Speaking Whānau without End

I believe te reo native speakers and our oral and written literature can help create whānau reo conversations that draw upon memory, spark creativity and help individuals in that whānau to gain skills and confidence in creating their own life story. The process of telling one’s own life story will free up language choices guided by the immediate past or by whānau, hapū, and iwi. The telling of the rich character of our history in a way that is fresh, direct, visual, emotional and connected to the environment can restore our connection with identity and with the land.

The subtitle of this chapter, ‘The Treaty of Waitangi and te Reo Māori’, takes that perspective: a broad sweep to articulate, revisit and pursue a historical perspective that is for Māori oral and written history extraordinarily compressed, close at hand and yet very much relevant to all of us. The telling of a life story in te reo Māori for native speakers is fundamentally about retrospective thinking, where historical precedence is established and recalled to bring substance and passion, and offering an artistic speaking style to the conversation so the listener is allowed to glimpse the reality of a story that is not in the too distant past. Stories of our past from our mythic pathways will follow, and continue to invigorate whānau reo for the rest of our lives. From this frontier of storytelling comes compassion, dedication, self-sacrifice and idealism to Māori language revitalisation. The actual process of storytelling by a native speaker is a fascinating story in itself, because it produces personal whānau stories that help produce kaikōrero (speakers), writers, critical thinkers, essayists, and storytellers who are not moulded or taken in by the popular culture. A whānau reo in which personal, whānau, hapū, and iwi storytelling is developed and continues to be developed in te reo, is a society in which survival values are strong.

Values for survival are another point of this chapter. In this next decade, 2011–2020, the struggle for survival of our constitutional rights under the Treaty of Waitangi and te reo Māori is paramount. The waiata by Te Kooti Ārikirangi Te Tūruki was composed in 1883 for the opening of the carved meeting-house Eripītana in Te Urewera, Te Whāiti,11 so you might well be asking: ‘What has the Treaty of Waitangi to do with te reo Māori, and what has the opening of the carved meeting-house Eripītana in Te Urewera, Te Whāiti in 1883 have to do with the Treaty of Waitangi and te reo today?’ Our oral and written historical literature contains repositories of intellectual gifts, shaped by a resolute determination to tell our story. Our stories must survive and be valued together, with the knowledge they bring to this modern era. The life-force of these stories provides the vitality, the energy for the revitalisation, the regeneration of te reo Māori in this decade and beyond. These stories have enormous energy and can impassion this generation and the next generation of speakers.

This chapter identifies the pressures upon us to maintain the dignity and the value we place on the Treaty of Waitangi and, through the Treaty, on te reo. If we are to develop ourselves as a nation, at the very least we must ensure that our values, competencies and knowledge of the world we live in contains our stories. Let’s not forsake our te reo oral and written traditions, the scholarly literature that can support the rediscovery of the art of reo Māori conversation.

Ko te mana tuatahi ko te Tiriti o Waitangi

The first mana is the Treaty of Waitangi

Ko te mana tuarua ko te Kooti Whenua

The second mana is the Land Court

Ko te mana tuatoru ko te Mana Motuhake

The third mana is the Separate Mana

END NOTES

1Te Kooti Ārikirangi Te Tūruki (as cited in McLean & Orbell, 1975, p. 38).

2Waitangi Tribunal (2010a, p. 1).

3Oliver (1990, pp. 462–6).

4The complete text of this waiata is in Black (2000, pp. 303–4).

5Binney (1995, pp. 321–4).

6Durie (1998b, p. 119).

7Mana, a word now adopted into New Zealand English, means influence, prestige, power.

8Te rautaki reo Māori (2003, p. 5).

9Ministry of Māori Development (2010).

10Waitangi Tribunal (2010a, p. 1).

11Binney (1995, pp. 321–4).

Full, Exclusive and Undisturbed Possession: Māori Education and the Treaty

Associate Professor Huia Tomlins-Jahnke and Krystal Te Rina Warren

Since 1840 the Treaty of Waitangi1 has been the subject of contentious debate. The facts surrounding the signing of the Treaty and the rights expected to flow for both signatories are not generally understood by the New Zealand public. An analysis of the New Zealand secondary school social studies curriculum shows that units of study relating to the history of the Treaty of Waitangi constitutes a mere 1.5 percent of the total curriculum.2 In 2011 Rahui Katene, Member of Parliament for Te Tai Tonga, expressed concern that “schools are supposed to be teaching New Zealand history, and as part of that New Zealand history we would expect those schools to be talking about Māori history, but in fact we find that so many schools do not”.3 This significant gap in knowledge within our schools raises several questions. What is the role of education in ensuring citizens are informed and knowledgeable about the history of the nation? How does educational policy contribute to building an understanding of our nation, its historical roots, including the Treaty agreement, and how the Treaty contributes to our future? These questions provide a basis for thinking about both the history and future of Māori education and schooling in Aotearoa New Zealand. This chapter explores some of the long-term effects of State policies upon educational outcomes for Māori, and potential future pathways for the development of education that better honours the Treaty intentions.

The History of Māori Education

In customary Māori society, the acquisition of knowledge was highly valued and higher forms of knowledge were accessible to selected authorities through specialised wānanga.4 The first system of European schooling in New Zealand, the mission schools,5 flourished as Māori sought to grasp the new knowledge these schools offered. The success of mission education was predicated, in part, on the fact that te reo Māori was the language of instruction.6 Conversely, missionaries viewed the curriculum as an instrument for civilising ‘natives’.7 This attitude aligned with international thinking and colonial practice in the nineteenth century, which aimed to assimilate indigenous people into European society. This assimilative ideology was clearly set out in the Native Trust Ordinance 1844, which provided mission schools with financial assistance and access to Māori land, and the Education Ordinance 1847, which established a set of education standards in religious instruction, industrial training, and instruction in the English language. This shift from Māori language to English as the language of instruction was significant as it initiated the steady decline of Māori language usage which followed.8

The Native Schools Act 1858 then provided financial support for Māori students to attend schools as boarders. The boarding school strategy was aimed at removing Māori children from the influences of the kāinga (home), to acculturate them in the ways of the Pākehā and hasten the assimilation process.9 In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, colonial policies in Australia and Canada saw indigenous children placed in boarding schools and subjected to sustained cultural, mental and physical abuse, with devastating intergenerational effects.10 Alternatively, mission boarding schools in Aotearoa were largely influenced by humanitarian ideals.11 The Act, however, continued instruction in the English language and a curriculum focused upon industrial training, reflecting prevailing colonial attitudes whereby Māori were thought best suited to manual work.12

These schools waned following the land disputes in the 1860s, and under the Native Schools Act 1867 the State assumed responsibility for Māori schooling. The onus, however, was put upon Māori communities to establish schools in their districts, requiring not only a letter to the government to request that a school be established, but that Māori commit financial support for the establishment and maintenance of the school. This included providing land for the school site, money for half of the cost for buildings and repairs, one-quarter of the teacher’s salary, and the cost of school books. While the Education Act 1877 established public schooling in New Zealand, the 1880 Native Schools Code13 required teachers to discourage amongst Māori children “Māori beliefs and practices” and instead replace them with European “belief systems and ‘manners’”.14 It was at these schools that the policy for English language was enforced through the corporal punishment of children speaking Māori within the school grounds, the psychological effects of this being long-term and intergenerational.15 As Tomlins-Jahnke states, “schools serve to act as key agents of cultural and ideological hegemony and of selective traditions”.16 In other words, “what counts as school knowledge, the way school knowledge is organised ... the underlying codes that structure such knowledge access to and legitimation of school knowledge is determined by the dominant culture”.17

Further policy with significant implications for what was perceived as valid ‘knowledge’ was the introduction of the Tohunga Suppression Act 1907, which outlawed the role of the tohunga, the experts and repositories of traditional knowledge who guided the social, cultural, economic, environmental and spiritual wellbeing of their communities.18 This legislation effectively saw the exclusion of Māori knowledge and customs from curriculum within state schooling and higher education until the end of the twentieth century. The effects of the Tohunga Suppression Act, combined with the exclusion of Māori language in schools and a policy of inferior education for Māori generally, set the foundation for Māori educational underachievement for the decades to come.19

Māori leaders like Princess Te Puea20 and Sir Apirana Ngata21 tried to counter the exclusion of Māori knowledge by leading a marae-based cultural revival programme from outside of the formal education system,22 which helped to influence change in education policy to include selected aspects of Māori culture. In particular, in the 1930s Māori culture and arts were encouraged in order to “intensify training in the practical arts of woodwork and home-craft”.23 However, the continued exclusion of the Māori language in schools led Te Puea to publicly advocate for Māori language and culture to be an integral part of the education system.24

An Era of Reports

By the 1950s, assimilative policies were replaced by policies of integration. Of similar intent, integration was given full expression in the 1961 ‘Hunn Report’.25 Overall the Report presented a deficit view of Māori, where Māori parents were blamed for the poor educational performance of Māori children. The Māori Education Foundation, established in 1961, was an outcome of the Report, initiated by the State as a “suitable way of helping the Maori people to overcome the educational handicaps suffered by some children ... for the purpose of encouraging and promoting better education of Maoris [sic]”26 and to increase their communication in the English language. The 1962 ‘Currie Commission Report’, which considered the role of public schooling in Aotearoa, emphasised Māori educational success was ultimately up to Māori themselves, since they were afforded the same educational opportunities as anyone else,27 but affirmed that Māori culture should be included in schooling.28

The patronising attitude of the State towards Māori at the time was apparent across education, for example in the inaugural National Advisory Committee on Māori Education (NACME), established in 1955, which consisted of non-Māori members only.29 The committee sought Māori opinion, but came to its own conclusions as to whether it agreed with Māori or not. Following concerns about continuing Māori underachievement, by the 1970s the State decided the Committee should contain significant Māori membership.30 The inclusion of Māori membership in the deliberations of NACME thus led to the promulgation of two key philosophical ideas that were consistent with a proactive view of Māori education. The first was that Māori children need to be equipped to realise their potential. In other words, it was up to the education system to provide an education that met their needs and was relevant to them. The second idea was that in order to achieve such a system, principles of social justice needed to be considered.

The 1970 Report of the National Advisory Committee on Maori Education31 subsequently signalled a move away from deficit theories of Māori student failure, where the blame lay with Māori parents, Māori culture, Māori homes and Māori children themselves. The need to improve communication between parents and schools was raised, and it was recommended schools incorporate the values and cultures of its students32 in the school habitus.33Engaging Māori communities was a catalyst for initiating a teacher training course for native speakers of te reo Māori.34 Māori education became subsumed within the broader goals associated with a national identity, but framed within an agenda that promoted diversity and multiculturalism.35 Māori language and culture was seen as providing opportunities for all New Zealanders,36 such as the Taha Māori programme for schools. However, as Smith argues, the problem with such initiatives was:

a Pakeha defined, initiated and controlled policy which serves the needs and interests of Pakeha people. Education policies such as Taha Maori are concerned with surface level, ‘additive’ or ‘sticking plaster’ solutions to the burgeoning crisis affecting many Maori pupils. Liberal responses to this crisis, have generally advocated changing Maori pupils to fit into the prescribed mould of the existing Pakeha schooling system.37

Māori disillusionment with state schooling subsequently came to a head in 1982 with the emergence of Te Kōhanga Reo.38 Initiated by Māori outside of the State, kōhanga reo were expressions of mana Māori motuhake, education Māori controlled and operated. Within a year kōhanga reo spread rapidly across the country and were established at marae, in whānau homes and garages, wherever whānau, their children and kaumātua were able to gather. The outcome of this Māori-inspired and initiated ‘revolution’ was an unprecedented increase in the participation of Māori children in early childhood education.39 While the State ignored the phenomenon of Te Kōhanga Reo, the challenge for Māori was how to achieve a system of education where Māori language, culture and people were central.

By 1985, the first kura kaupapa Māori40