As the sun arced above the Waitangi grounds, boring down on the lush green peninsula where Māori and the British Crown forged a nation in 1840, New Zealand’s new government faced the heat – less from above and more from the blaze of alarm over its plans for Māori, which many fear could result in a rollback of rights.
Political leaders gathered at the grounds this week to celebrate Waitangi Day, New Zealand’s national day, which marks the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi/Te Tiriti o Waitangi in 1840. The treaty is considered a founding document of New Zealand and upholds Māori rights.
The multi-day Waitangi celebrations, which end with Waitangi Day on 6 February, is as much a festive time of music, food and community as it is a forum for political discussion about sovereignty, equality and history.
In years past, the event brought together Māori and government to foster unity and discussion. It was sombre yet welcoming – in the early years of Jacinda Ardern’s Labour government, the prime minister donned an apron and wielded tongs to cook a free barbecue for those who gathered.
But the national mood began to shift, as fractures over race relations appeared to deepen in New Zealand society and politicians – particularly Māori – faced increased threats and harassment.
This year, fuelled by anger over perceived attacks on Māori rights, the new government’s ceremonial welcome became its most hostile and bitter in decades. The atmosphere at Waitangi was charged, as record crowds – an estimated 80,000 people – converged on the grounds to challenge New Zealand’s leaders.
On Monday, after a pōwhiri (formal welcome) to Te Whare Rūnanga (the meeting house), the prime minister, Christopher Luxon, his party and coalition partners Act and New Zealand First delivered speeches to the crowd. Powered by a groundswell of Māori unity, those gathered rejected their words, booing and jeering – a mood not seen at the treaty grounds in decades.
Māori rights activist and former politician Hone Harawira singled out Act leader David Seymour – the architect of a controversial policy to redefine the principles of the treaty – over his proposed bill.
“Here we are today, and you buggers want to get rid of [the treaty],” he said. “You think it’s just a case of bring in some legislation to strip the treaty of its mana [prestige], to belittle the reo [language] by making it a second-class language in our land.
“You and your shitty ass bill are going down the toilet.”
Activist and lawyer Annette Sykes turned her attention to Luxon.
“Why would someone who wants to be the leader of a National party permit the tail to wag the dog,” she said, referring to the influence Luxon’s coalition partners have on his government’s direction.
In its short time in power, the three-party coalition has announced a repeal or review of at least a dozen policies that provide for Māori, in what it says is an attempt to improve outcomes for all New Zealanders. This includes rolling back initiatives designed to improve Māori health outcomes, stopping “race-based” policies such as co-governance between Māori and the Crown, and minimising Māori language use in the public service.
Yet the policy that has generated the most vocal opposition is Act’s proposal to redefine the principles of the treaty, which include the right to Māori autonomy and protection of Māori interests. While National and New Zealand First have repeatedly said they would not support the bill past the first reading, the push has stoked fear for many across New Zealand.
They fear it could wind back years of progress for Māori. Over the past 50 years, lawmakers, courts and the Waitangi tribunal – an institution that investigates breaches of the treaty – have looked to the wider intention, or spirit, of the treaty, in order to define its principles to include in law and smooth out differences in interpretations between the two versions (English and Māori) of the treaty.
Act wants the principles to include all New Zealanders, arguing the current principles give people different rights based on birth. Opponents believe changes to the treaty will undermine Māori rights and prioritise those who already have power.
Amid jeers and heckling, Seymour told the crowd on Monday he wanted a New Zealand where the treaty would provide tino rangatiratanga (self-determination) “not just for some people, but for all”, prompting the crowd to sing over him until he sat down.
The New Zealand First leader and deputy prime minister, Winston Peters, immediately drew ire from the crowd when he announced his speech would be “very, very brief” due to another engagement. His tone quickly escalated into anger as he yelled rebukes at the audience and told them to “get an education”.
“Whoever said we were getting rid of the Treaty of Waitangi?” he said. “Stop this nonsense.”
When he attempted to ask the crowd if it thought “separatism and division” was the future, he was booed and chants of “e noho” (sit down) drowned him out.
As tensions between the crowd of hundreds and the politicians grew, the event’s hosts threatened to pull the prime minister’s speech if the audience could not sit quietly to let him speak.
The crowd obliged, and Luxon stood to deliver a speech from pre-written notes, eschewing the opportunity to respond to concerns about Act’s treaty principles policy.
“Every nation’s past is imperfect,” Luxon read. “But no other country has attempted to right its historical wrongs or dared to undertake such an ambitious national reconciliation project as we have.”
After relaying many of his campaign promises, including restoring the economy, improving education and restoring law and order, Luxon said his government was committed to helping all New Zealanders, both Māori and non-Māori.
“We will keep talking – sometimes boisterously, always sincerely, I hope respectfully and, I believe, ultimately productively.”
‘Not being listened to’
Many of those who came to Waitangi – old, young, some from the farthest pockets of the country – arrived wrapped in the red, white and black of the tino rangatiratanga flag, or wore T-shirts emblazoned with the words “I will speak Māori.” But with banners and hopes raised high, many also left with the impression the government was not listening.
“Māori have contributed to the conversation with good will and an open heart,” said Marty Rodgers, who had joined a thousand-person strong hikoi (walk) to the grounds.
Amid waiata (songs) and chants calling for the treaty to be honoured, Rodgers explained how Māori felt the government was not interested in their perspectives.
“That’s why we are all so pissed off, because it’s being treated disrespectfully,” she said.
“This is the only way we can have recognised that we are not happy – what else can we do but take to the streets, fly our flags, chant our chants – there is no other forum to be listened to.”
In the three months the government has been in power, New Zealanders have mobilised against its proposed policies, in the form of protests and urgent claims filed in the Waitangi tribunal. In January, the Māori King called for a rare nationwide hui (meeting) to unite iwi (tribes) in their push towards mana motuhake (self-determination) and 10,000 people showed up.
The chair of the Waitangi National Trust, Pita Tipene, said while there had been “glacial” progress made with the government during the day’s proceedings, he was disappointed Luxon did not respond to the challenges presented to that morning.
“We’re talking past each other,” he said.
In the twilight dawn on the final day of Waitangi celebrations, three women who had not attended Waitangi before spoke of the “pulse” and the wairua (spirit) driving Māori together to challenge the government’s policies.
Rosie Clayton said the government’s direction “doesn’t resonate with who we are as a nation”.
“It seems to be all about the fighting,” added her friend Beverly Joy Proctor. “It’s a wake-up call, not a fight.”
As the sky lightened behind them to reveal thousands of people standing in front of the marae – the largest dawn service crowd in Waitangi Day history – Syretta Clayton questioned how the government could be so blinkered in its approach to Māori.
“How much do you have to put the blinders up to not feel what’s happening? People are speaking; we are here in droves.”
