Introduction and Welcome - The Hon. Parekura Horomia >>
Karakia/ Opening Prayer - Bishop Muru Walters >>
The Waitangi Rua Rau Tau Kaupapa/Concept - Justice Eddie Durie >>
Introducing Sir Howard Morrison - Kara Puketapu>>
The National Anthem - Sir Howard Morrison & Audience >>
The Fourth Waitangi Rua Rautau Lecture
Whāia ko te mātauranga hei whītiki te iwi kia toa ai
Seek ye from the fountain of knowledge so the people may be uplifted, thrive and prosper
Whaia ko te mātauranga hei whītiki te iwi kia toa ai
This whakataukī by Kepa Ēhau. Kepa Ēhau was a member of the Ngāti Tarawhai tribe of Te Arawa and has been hailed as the greatest Te Arawa orator. He attended Te Aute College, and on leaving school became a law clerk. As well as Māori and English and Latin, he also spoke French. His knowledge of Māori ceremony and tradition was claimed to be unsurpassed in Te Arawa territory. Sir Apirana Ngata said that Kepa Ēhau was the finest interpreter of Māori in the country. Many of his speeches in Māori and English have been learned by heart by those who admired his oratory.
Kepa had both legs amputated in the 1960s due to a wound from World War One, but continued giving his ‘whaikōrero’ from a wheelchair until his death on February 10th, 1970, at the age of 85.
His tangihanga was at Tunohopū Marae in Rotorua, and he is buried at Kauae cemetery in Ngongotaha.
This quote is meaningful for me because like others of his ilk, Kepa left us with a legacy as Māori that still even today puts the emphasis on the collective, the people. So whatever path we choose, whatever work we do, whatever fountain it is that sustains us as individuals, let’s be sure that we reciprocate benefits and advantages back to the people. Despite the fact that Kepa made this statement many, many years ago, it is just as pertinent today and I’m sure it will be just as pertinent in the year 2040.
I have many heroes, heroines, and mentors that include those who have gone beyond the veil, and those who have left a lasting imprint on myself, also those with whom I interact with today.
In my address, I want to honour Kepa’s whakataukī by talking about the fountains of knowledge from the past, creating the fountains of knowledge in the present, and to prepare the fountains for the future.
Before beginning however, let me acknowledge the aims and visions of the Waitangi Rua Rau Tau, as laid down by Sir Graham Latimer in 2002 on behalf of the Tai Tokerau Māori Council. That aim was to ensure that the dreams of harmonious relationships between Māori and Pākehā are made true in our time. This would be done by drawing deeply on established wells of courage and tolerance to make the vision a reality by the year 2040. I wish also to acknowledge past presenters: Sir Rodney Gallen, Dame Joan Metge and Whatarangi Winiata, who have added their own words of wisdom into this visionary dialogue.
If I could enlarge on my salutation to Sir Graham Latimer. To me, he epitomises Kepa’s whakataukī. Sir James Henare as one of his mentors encouraged him to go to Wellington to learn about the legislative processes. He had no idea where to start but he went nevertheless and whilst there, no money for hotels, he had to sleep on the floor of the Gear Meat Hostel. Now, you fast forward to 1987 and this is the period as Chair of the New Zealand Māori Council where he led the State Owned Enterprises challenge and has been active on issues affecting Māori since. His work has been of benefit to all Māori, not just to his own people. Nō reira, Kereama, ka nui rā te mihi ki a koe. Tēnā koe.
Setting the Scene
In 1940, the Treaty of Waitangi was 100 years old, and I was five. Michael Savage was the Prime Minister and they were tough times. We were still in the grips of a Depression and going into World War Two. As a child, I was relatively unaffected by any hardships as my father and his brothers were great hunters and fisherman and as a family, we wanted for nothing.
Our family house was 25 yards from the lake where fresh koura and morihana ‘carp’ abounded. Unfortunately these bounties disappeared from the bay in 1952 due to effluent discharge.
I remember my Dad and his older brothers would bathe in the communal baths every morning and I would listen to their discussions on the war and the Māori Battalion’s emergence as result of a call from Māori MPs and Māori organisations, actually led by Sir Apirana Ngata himself. Throughout the country, they were wanting a full Māori unit to be raised for service overseas. Te Arawa soldiers were recruited into B Company and linked to the Māori Battalion, and we were named the ‘Penny Divers.’
Our villages around the lake were emptied of young men who responded to the call to serve their country. The Battalion left with a full complement and returned sadly depleted. Their courageous endeavours brought testaments of the highest order. A Victoria Cross for Te Moananui-a-Kiwa Ngārimu from C Company. Colonel Awatere, and our own Lance Sergeant Haane Manahi, they were but a few of the many men who made up the brave united collective under the mantle of the Māori Battalion.
Such was the respect for the Māori Battalion that they were frequently used as a spearhead unit. General Freyburg, the General Officer Commanding of the 2nd NZEF, commented ‘No infantry had a more distinguished record, or saw more fighting, or, alas, had such heavy casualties, as the Māori Battalion.[1]’
At home, Rotorua was at war in a friendly way with the invasion of the American soldiers. They came to protect our shores due to the threat of the Japanese. New Zealand was the last assembly point before going to meet the Japanese imperial forces in the Pacific and South East Asia. As a youngster, I remember that Dad had organised socials, and Mum was part of the concert parties, not only to entertain troops established in Rotorua, but those who came by train from Auckland. My aunts, Witarina Harris (who incidentally will be 100 years this May in the year of our Lord 2006) and her relation Nuki Charters, they were doing similar things here to entertain the American troops in Wellington. I remember clearly Dad and brothers and Mum and her mates entertaining American servicemen in our house where they taught us their songs which were important to a lot to them, mainly because of the loved ones that they left behind. Songs like ‘Maria Elena’ etc.
By the way, our local maidens were not used to the attention of the Americans who bought with them flowers and chocolates and as my Mum once said to me, 'the Americans were polite, courteous and they left a few parcels behind.'
New Zealand was used as a final assembly point for Americans before they left to do battle with the Japanese. In fact, at that time, we were very vulnerable and the American presence acted as a preventative measure against potential attack. The threat was real, as the Japanese were bombing Darwin at that time and there were sightings indicating submarine activity in our seas.
The relationship through those American soldiers has left a lasting legacy with me. To this day, whenever I meet Americans I express gratitude for their predecessors' sacrifice and the knowledge and experience that I learned in their presence.
When the Māori Battalion returned, rehabilitation was of the highest priority. Sir Apirana Ngata was leading and negotiating resettlement and my Dad in Rotorua was at the forefront of those endeavours while working as a field officer for the Department of Māori Affairs. In our village, my uncles and cousins who came back from that war would often come together, and on Fridays and Saturdays, they were party nights where I first heard the melodies of Neapolitan music that they learnt in the campaign in Italy. They were beautiful songs, and they were known by all the Battalion because the music had captured them and gave them pleasure and became a sanctuary away from the horrors of war. Songs like [‘Come Back To] Sorrento,’ ‘O Solo Mio,’ ‘Buona Note Mi Amore.’ But the song that meant more to them, at least to my uncles, was ‘Mama’ because on many occasions as the wounded were withdrawn from the front line, one would inevitably hear their cry, their cry for their Mum. That came even before the cry for God. This song, ‘Mama,’ is a song I always like to sing. I understand its nostalgia because of the English translation, and I understand the sentiment, the cry and emotion for greater reasons. For any soldier, no matter what ethnicity, race, or creed, the human need for their Mum is universal.
And so my future was sealed. From my uncles and my cousins returning from the War, I developed a love for music and singing, which became a defining time for my absolute love of music. The messages as an expression of the human spirit, it transcends racism, separatism, cultures, languages. A medium that lifts hearts and minds, that is the essence of music, and it is through music where I have been able to make my contribution to rangatahi and in so doing it has allowed me the gift of living the whakataukī of Kepa Ēhau.
Fountains of knowledge of the past
We all need heroes and heroines and we all have them. Every iwi is able to recount traditional stories of courage, bravery and gallantry. We in Te Arawa have a lot to thank Te Aokapurangi for.
In 1823 we were paid a not-too-sociable visit by Hongi Hika whose colossal feat of arms of travelling from North down the coast, gathering momentum and picking up other allies who, like Hongi, held bad feelings towards Te Arawa. Just think of perhaps 1,000 warriors who came off the coast at Maketū and up the Pongakawa river and on hearing that Te Arawa had pulled all their canoes up to Mokoia, and as a consequence of that, they manhandled their waka across the land. A tedious task but they did it, through the lakes, and over what is now known as Hongi’s track, up the Ōhau Channel and there onto Lake Rotorua, Mokoia where, assembled were Te Arawa. They had but one musket between them. At the height of the battle, a Te Arawa woman Te Ao Kapurangi, who had been taken prisoner by Ngāpuhi some years before, and who had travelled with the Ngāpuhi tū taua out of concern for what might happen to her people. She implored Hongi to spare her people. Hongi, in an act of cynical chivalry agreed and said ‘all those who go between your legs before I say enough will be spared’. Te Ao Kapurangi immediately climbed to the top of Tamatekapua. She spread her legs on the roof above the doorway and invited her people to enter. Probably not what Hongi envisaged would happen, but it was significant as Te Arawa would most likely have been extinguished as an iwi. So to this day, we draw strength and still celebrate Te Ao Kapurangi in our waiata and our history. This piece in reverence to Te Ao Kapurangi is very important because it is our way that we reflect on the importance and the impact that our women made.
When I reflect on my mentors, my heroes, and my heroines, naturally my own family, parents, uncles and aunts have been wonderful mentors. For me, they’ve been my conscience also in reminding me who I am. However, sometimes you meet people along the way that leave you with a lasting impression. As a boy of 11 years when Sir Apirana Ngata visited our house in Ruatāhuna, I was overcome with awe and his visit is still vivid in my mind. ‘What am I doing in Ruatāhuna?’ you may ask? Well, in 1947 my Dad was sent to Ruatāhuna to assist the Māori unit farmers there to bring profit to the land, the stock and their wellbeing. While in Ruatāhuna at about 11 years of age, Sir Apirana Ngata visited out house in Ruatāhuna. I was overcome with awe and his visit is still vivid in my mind. During my schooling at Te Aute, that sense of awe continued in my respect for the greatness of Sir Apirana Ngata and Maui Pomare, men of that ilk, emanated from the pictures that hung on the wall. There they were, something to look up to. Their achievements carved in my mind and loomed as examples for which to aim.
Largely, aside from my family, my mentors were men of the cloth. Men like Canon Wi Huata, Manu Bennett, Whakahuihui Vercoe. They epitomised the greatness to which I aspired and they would never have known, probably, that they were my examples. They portrayed a wisdom and experience which they willingly shared and imbued their messages with humour. The encyclopedia of tikanga Māori which they carried in their heads continually amazed me as did their ability to straddle both worlds with dignity and integrity. Post war, many of my mentors like Hamuera Mitchell and Henry Northcroft, they had entered into administrative jobs which failed to capitalise on their depth of knowledge of the Māori world, the manaaki which they had to offer the Pākehā world, and their abilities to bring them both together. They were the unsung heroes, earning money in the Public Service to feed their families, while also having their commitment to their people at tribal hui and wānanga.
Our challenge in this day and age is to take our lessons from these masters, who have not only left their mark for Māori but in the bicultural merging and synergy of Māori and Pākehā. They are of the past and the present: Sir Apirana Ngata; Sir Peter Buck; Sir Maui Pomare; Sir Turi Carroll; Te Puea; Dame Whina Cooper; Dame Te Atairangikaahu. We must capture the treasures left by our tūpuna now in this generation. If we don’t, then we are guilty of not recognising them outside the period that they were here. When we utter the words, ‘ngā taonga tuku iho nā rātou mā,’ let’s mean it, let’s walk it and let’s remember them in living up to that honour by keeping these sources of the fountain rich and flowing in the abundance in which they should naturally flow. We now have a Māori television station. Now any one of these leaders of the past represent an informative, educational and entertaining story which is tailor made to documentaries. So listen up New Zealand On Air and Te Māngai Pāho, and don’t think I will forget.
Which leads me to recognising that from the fountains of the past we need seriously to talk about the fountains of the future.
Creating the fountains in the present for the future.
As an example, I would like to share my experience and work with and personal involvement as a trustee and mentor of Manaakitanga Aotearoa Trust www.manaakitanga.org.nz in Te Arawa. It was set up to provide Māori performing arts, kaupapa Māori education and to enhance work experience, employment and training opportunities for learners.
Our Manaakitanga programmes have received wonderful acknowledgements which led to a John Amos reading about Manaakitanga and our endeavours in the local newspaper. Consequently, he offered a one million dollar endowment from his family trust for Manaakitanga to administer a project to identify rangatahi at tertiary level who have academic and leadership qualities. Fifty thousand dollars over 20 years, each year. Last year, we sponsored nine Te Arawa men and women to universities throughout New Zealand, who were studying a wide range of degrees including medicine, sciences and the arts. This year, 2006, seven more from Te Arawa will receive scholarships. We estimate that by the year 2025, there will be up to 120 young men and women of Te Arawa out there fulfilling the whakataukī of their tūpuna, Kepa Ēhau.
Also this year, an ex-pat friend of the family, Owen Glen, who is with us today, made a substantial grant to the Manaakitanga education programme. We have decided to create scholarships for both academia and sport for six candidates who have already been chosen and will have sufficient funding for their tertiary fees for the next two to three years. Our requirement is that they maintain a B-plus average. Our commitment is to follow their progress and support them in the spirit of whānaungatanga.
My commitment to youth development had its genesis through the philosophy created by Kara Puketapu, and it’s wonderful to have him here today. Kara was the first Māori Secretary of Māori Affairs, appointed in 1977, with the glowing endorsement from Rob Muldoon who said that, in his opinion, Puketapu was the most brilliant public servant that he knew. My involvement came from a neighbourly conversation over the fence actually, with John Rangihau. We both lived on Korokai St which is positioned on the sacred Te Papaiouru marae in Ohinemutu. Our street of four houses was named Korokai after a famous Ngāti Whakaue chief. John said to me, 'why don't you think about joining the team that Kara Puketapu is putting together?' and quickly added that it should not interfere with my singing, but in fact it might add to the programme.
My participation in Tū Tangata was specifically youth development. It was driven through a need to address the terrible statistics of young Māori leaving school with no qualifications. Waiariki was our pilot scheme and we visited the 21 high schools in our rohe. We were assisted by the staff from the Community Services section of Māori Affairs, Māori wardens, Honorary Community Officers, and parents who were only too willing to participate in our programme. In every school from 9 o’clock to 10 o’ clock it was show-time in the assembly hall in front of all the pupils. The entourage that came with us, they greatly enhanced the message that we sent from the stage. We interviewed every Māori pupil from 3rd form to 7th form. The message to those third and fourth formers was to stay at school to acquire qualifications. We followed up the group of high risk pupils in the third term through marae-based wānanga. We had them together for one week and threw everything at them in terms of motivation and looking to the future. It was embellished by poi, waiata-a-ringa, mau rākau for the boys and also, key note speakers like Don Selwyn, Selwyn Muru, Hika Reid the Happy Hooker, the All Blacks in those days, and Buck Shelford, many others. The influence of these high profile luminaries gave the attention grabbing and inspirational highs that got rangatahi listening. In our follow-up and our follow-through, it was heartening to return to the school the following year and find that we had a high rate of return of third and fourth formers. Meanwhile, the programme for fifth formers was obviously focused on School Certificate and Kara and Neville Baker (by the way, the first Māori District Officer appointed), they expanded the trade training options. For instance, somewhere out there, there are three hundred plus Māori chefs who I presume are doing very, very well.
Those with tertiary ambitions, we were able to assist through a new initiative, namely the Massey College, Tū Tangata Bachelor of Business Studies degree, created by Professor Ngatata Love, resourced by the Department of Māori Affairs and administered by Neville Baker. My participation was to find holiday workplace paid positions in companies and corporates so that practical experience would complement the theory. Holiday workplace businesses included Carter Holt, Fletchers, Alex Harvey Industries and Tasman. The inaugural students numbered 11, but through the life of the BBS degree, there were over 200 to 300 young Māori who achieved that, went on to MBA, maybe PhD, but the BBS degree it grew and expanded into other universities and in one year, Westpac placed 33 in their banks around New Zealand.
On a personal note, the high degree of satisfaction is when I meet those in their mid-40s who were part of that programme and who are doing extremely well in business pursuits today, too many in fact to mention.
But it was with great sadness when all of the programmes that were working successfully were aborted with the devolvement of the Māori Affairs Department.
The Tū Tangata programme was a period that gave me opportunity to play my part in the development of these young men and women. The recipients were told that failure was not an option and that success comes from hard graft and dedication. Mostly, they should expect only the best of themselves as well. Time will show that rangatahi of this ilk will help to positively shape our unique, sustainable and economic advantage of the future. Of this generation, I have great faith.
From the deeds of the 28th Māori Battalion, we lost so many who could have brought value back to Māori and to the whole of the country. So while Ngata, Buck, and Pomare will still be in the forefront of New Zealand’s history, I am confident that by 2040 there will be individual pursuits of excellence for us to savour. Michael Campbell, Susan Devoy—they will be joined by many others in making their stand in the world.
Treaty of Waitangi
So where does the Treaty of Waitangi fit for Te Arawa?
Well specifically for Ngāti Whakaue, the Treaty was happening in some other part of the country. A version was brought to Ohinemutu by Rev Chapman for us to sign, but missionary influence was not strong enough and on the advice of Te Amohau, Te Haupapa and Pukuatua, we vehemently rejected the Treaty. Te Heu Heu had a stronger, more overt reaction. Twenty years after the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi at Waitangi, Ngāti Whakaue later attended the Kohimārama conference 20 years later, where gave our assent with caution, to the Queen by making it very clear that it was to be on our own terms. As time progressed, Ngāti Whakaue saw the need for a township and when approached for land on which to build the town, we astutely perceived of the benefits for us in terms of tourism and the exposure of the natural wonders of the world held in our area, namely the Pink and White Terraces. It seemed like a good business deal where both Māori and Pākehā could benefit. Chiefs of Ngāti Whakaue were still clear that this was a business deal under which we still retained our mana. The subsequent transgression of that agreement in which the power base shifted from Ngāti Whakaue to the settlers, does not diminish the fact that we entered into the agreement prepared to seek and define common goals with mutual benefits for all. The subsequent events are now history, but justice prevails for us today where our tūpuna Pukaki is now a tangible link to the 21st century.
Christianity amongst our iwi was late arriving, and it came when Archdeacon Henry Williams, who was the first Anglican to visit Ohinemutu along with Thomas Chapman in 1831. They brought with them a Māori from Ngāpuhi, Ihaia. A mission station was established at Te Koutu and later Ihaia was the initiative behind the building of a church at Maketū and St Faiths in Ohinemutu. Ihaia was held in high regard by Ngāti Whakaue, being recognised more for his work amongst us with great affection, as opposed to angst of previous battles with Ngāpuhi. The Ngāti Whakaue waiata or our national anthem, is ‘e kore te aroha i te kororia tapu.’ It is our waiata to honour Ihaia and also in honour of his daughter.
Pompallier arrived a little later to bring the Catholic faith to Ngāti Whakaue and to find adherents which actually caused much division amongst our people. Our chief Pukuatua called the tribe together in Tamatekapua. He listened to the discussions, the tos and fros, the pros and cons, but he saw the advantage of having Christianity, and the missionaries in particular, amongst us, no matter who they were and who they represented. So, he declared one side of the meeting house from that time on would be Catholic and the other side was to be Anglicans. Our side was originally on the Catholic side, but when my uncle, who was Anglican, fell in love with a Catholic girl, he asked my Dad to change—in his words, to balance the books. This suited my Dad and he joked that it was best to be Anglican because you only had one collection and so that is the reason why my family are Anglicans today and all my cousins are Catholics. Pukuatua added a rider to that decision, which was that as the Catholic Church was at one end and St Faiths was at the other, with Tamatekapua in the middle. If any division was to follow, that they would all come to Tamatekapua, our Parliament, our wānanga, our place of worship and the place where we honour our ancestors.
In many ways, I am not well informed on the actuality and the context of how the Treaty was put together. Earlier this week, I visited the ‘Treaty 2 U’ exhibition which is an initiative of Te Papa. It is presently touring in a mobile exhibition. It will certainly inform people curious enough to know more. Two or three days ago, I spoke to the kaumātua who was travelling with the exhibition, and he remarked that for him, it was pleasing to see so many Pākehā visiting the exhibition. So hope springs eternal that this travelling exhibition will play its part so that we may learn to know each other better. Every country in the world has a day to celebrate: July 4th in America; Bastille Day in France; and St Patrick’s Day which is a universal celebration. The irony is that of all those days which are celebrated, they have come about through conflict and civil unrest. A question to be asked perhaps, in moving towards 2040, will we be able to finally as a nation celebrate Waitangi in a true spirit of unification?
Being around for 50 years, well that is in show biz, I have met and I know a lot of people who feel comfortable in asking me sensitive questions about being Māori. I am grateful that music has allowed me to make that connection, because it’s been a bridge for me, towards building understanding and tolerance.
In our communities today, we have merged, intermarried and come together in a way so many of us now have blue-eyed blondes for mokopuna, and Pākehā, they have brown-eyed, brown-skinned mokopuna. So, many of us, our blood is now mixed and fortunately for us, we do not have clear demarcations of race and religion that pervades and dictates and gives rise to violence as in many other countries. God bless New Zealand.
Some of you may remember a song in particular the Quartet which was a reminder about race relations in this country. It was 'My old man’s an All Black' in 1960 when the All Black team went to South Africa, and no Māori were allowed. The words were, ‘My old man’s an All Black, He wears the silver fern, his mates just couldn’t take him, so he’s out now for a term.’ Actually, the first draft was stronger than that. It was ‘My Old Man’s an All Black, he wears the silver fern, those bloody Boers wouldn’t take him, so he’s out now for a term.’ So anyway, we had to mellow that down.
From 1960 in that particular song, which actually moved the Howard Morrison Quartet to prominence in this country as a singing group, we fast forward now to when apartheid ended and Mandela and his ANC party were in power. A documentarian friend of mine visited to see how that transition was taking place. He actually asked for an interview with Desmond Tutu. When he got to the place where the interview was to take place, it was full of journalists from around the world, the BBC and America and all over. He’d already given his CV as to who he was and where he was from. It was a surprise to him that an aide of Desmond Tutu, out of all these high-powered journalists from around the world, chose him to be first to talk to Desmond Tutu. And in fact, he asked Desmond Tutu what the reason was. Desmond Tutu replied, ‘because of Hamilton.’ ‘Why Hamilton?’ and then he twigged, because that was the time when of course protesters invaded the field. Now Desmond Tutu went on to explain that in South Africa it was the first satellite match for television into South Africa and as it was at a time, early in the morning perhaps, they had no control on what they should do, because here was New Zealand up in arms, stopping a football match between Waikato and South Africa. It went on for five minutes, because they thought, ‘oh, we’ll let it go because they’ll clear them off.' They waited a half an hour and they still hadn’t cleared them off. So after about 45 minutes, they realised that this was a huge embarrassment to South Africa White, to the white South African. They actually got, they actually rang the Minister of Broadcasting up for permission to stop the transmission. My friend told me that the delight on Tutu’s face in explaining that story to him only amplified his feeling of affection for New Zealand.
When I actually wrote this, I was thinking about the passing of Rod Donald, and he was right in the front line then. And I also record my own feelings of being embarrassed perhaps of sitting on the fence, and I wonder how many of us would put up our hands to that?
So, it’s a way of acknowledging that we must never lose sight of the privilege of knowing more about ourselves, Māori and the privilege of being embraced by our culture. But also, let’s not be over overt in flogging Pākehā intolerance. There are gracious ways that we can go to a point of engagement that is all-inclusive. In my little world, music has been like a bicultural bridge and I am unashamedly a bicultural man, because I was born bicultural. My whakapapa is Scottish, Irish and Māori, so I am them and they are me. Now what’s our excuse? We build bridges, we need more shapes and forms, because there is room in this fountain for all of us, no matter what colour or creed. What we can be remembered for in 2040 will be that we made decisions based on an obligation and a commitment to understand and appreciate each other more. If that sounds idealistic, I’m sorry. But at my age, (and I’ve lived more years than I’ve got left), I’m impatient to see change made.
Here in New Zealand, I think we still have a strong sense of being particularly Māori and I believe that it is up to us to foster these values so that they are just as vibrant and dynamic in 2040. Let's be mindful that technology will never ever replace the cultural values that we were born to endorse and fulfill.
Like for instance 'whakapapa.' We at Te Aute College were told by John Rangihau and Henry Northcroft 'your history is your whakapapa.' For me, part of the privilege of acknowledging one’s Māori side is to know and understand your Māori roots. In a diverse and changing world where many of us now live, not only throughout New Zealand but throughout the world, then we must reinforce whakapapa. An incident that continues to remind me of whakapapa was when Inia Te Wiata visited Te Arawa in an informal capacity. This multi-talented, multi-faceted master carver, beautiful bass singer we had sent to London to study music. He stood at the door of Tamatekapua, he broke into incantation citing his whakapapa in his mihi to the pou around the walls. He never forgot his roots, nor the appropriate processes of being Māori.
When I'm asked about my whakapapa, I can take anyone to Maketu, which is the landing place of the Te Arawa canoe.
Whakapapa comes with obligations, but such obligations allow us to be part of collective growth and development and should not be shied from. Within whakapapa, there is a hierarchy of knowledge that enriches the fountain and it is important to acknowledge the taumata of every iwi and ensure that all that brain power and knowledge is fully exploited to bring to the young people and their learning process.
Whakapapa of course does not stand on its own. There are a myriad of values, all interlinked. It is however worth making comments about the place where these all come together and that I believe is in the ritual of tangihanga, which to me represents the bastion of tikanga Māori and where we see the intrinsic values of Māori coming together.
The significance of tangihanga does not escape me. It is still an important ritual because our people have made it so. My worry is that we have taken the sanctity of the taumata for granted for too long. Our people are asset rich but cash poor. People are born into the taumata or chose to be part of it. They have come through with PhDs in which they have memorised whakapapa, waiata not only for our own tribal connections but also for connections with other iwi. My peer, cousin and friend, the late Hapi Winiata trained his mind in becoming part of the paepae tapu, where he remained for two thirds of his life. He died a young man because of the effort and time he put in. Hapimana’s example is not unique to us in Te Arawa. It is repeated throughout the motu. What we are seeing now is the strength of the taumata declining and if that happens, then the cornerstone of our marae practises and also our values dissipates.
If we still want to hold on to this ritual and all that it represents, then there are fundamentals and basics of which we must be aware. Do not take our people for granted. Look after all our fountains so that they will continue to spring forth and offer us their knowledge to uplift us, particularly in our times of need. They are the keepers of the whakapapa, and so we need to acknowledge that and not take their sacred ethos for granted.
So in 2040, what values will still be strong? Human values are human values, but what makes us Māori is a whole set of cultural values that have been passed down over many generations. Sure, their form may have changed but their essence and spirit never changes. It is up to us to cherish our paepae, to cherish our taumata, to cherish our rituals and make them distinctive and dynamic so that they are present and strong in 2040.
In concluding.
In the year 2040, I will be 104, my daughter will be 82, my granddaughter and youngest mokopuna Kiriana will be 42. What are the legacies that we will leave for our children and grandchildren? While we have the privilege of being on this planet, it is incumbent upon us to give a little of ourselves back to the people, to seriously nurture the growth and the source of those wells and fountains. I was looking up the word ‘dynasty’ and found that it meant a succession of leaders in any field. Given that definition, aren’t we talking about the fountains of knowledge all over again? How are we improving the dynasties to which we all belong?
The bottom line is asking ‘how we have done?’ When we had our visitors, Cook and the settlers and those who came after him, they bought with them a thousand years of development (and bad habits). We weren’t accustomed to that, because if we compare that with Māori and in a condensed period of 160 years, then we can not deny that we have done more than very, very well. There will be no other indigenous people in the universe who have made such a giant leap in such a short time.
And so I return to Kepa:
Whaia ko te mātauranga hei whītiki te iwi kia toa ai.
Seek ye from the fountain of knowledge so the people can be uplifted, thrive and prosper.
And so from the whakataukī of Kepa Ēhau, I turn to his friend, Sir Apirana Ngata, and leave you with his legacy:
E tipu e rea
Mō ngā rā o to ao
To ringaringa ki ngā rākau o te Pākehā
Hei oranga mō to tinana
To ngākau ki to Māoritanga
Hei tikitiki mo to māhunga
To wairua ki te Atua
Nōna nei ngā mea katoa.
Nā reira e te iwi, noho ora mai koutou i o kāinga, marae, i te manaakitanga o te atua. Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou tātou.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Zealand_Expeditionary_Force