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
Nā Kepa Hamuera Anaha Ēhau
Presented
by: Sir Howard Morrison, January 2006
Whaia
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
Nā
Kepa Hamuera Anaha Ēhau
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.