THERE MUST NEEDS BE AN OPPOSITION

When Eve ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil she learned a very simple, yet complex truth: “There must needs be an opposition in all things…” (2 Ne. 2:11). In order for her to fully experience one thing, she had to also experience its opposite – virtue and vice, health and sickness, pleasure and pain, light and darkness. When I was 26 I started on the path that became my life work and learned the same simple and complex truth about a number of things, among them money and marriage.

First, money. In 1986 the government split the trees from the land of the state forests, sold the cutting rights and kept the land available for future Treaty settlements. That included the Aupouri forest, a huge employer of our people here in Te Hiku. At the same time the owners of Northern Pulp’s triboard mill in Kaitaia, where most of Aupouri’s timber went, were going belly-up. So a group of five Maori Trusts and Incorporations from Te Hapua, Te Kao, Herekino, Motuti and Mitimiti who also supplied timber to the mill, cobbled together a bid of $1million for the Aupouri forest. Although we had assets, cash was kind of scarce. Still we were confident we could find a partner with the money in short order. But, to buy time, between us we scraped up the necessary 10% deposit. Then Matiu Rata and I were sent to Wellington with the bid and the cheque; I to observe and analyse, Matiu to speak and make our case. We were received very politely, given a nice platter of finger food and a glass of fruit juice, listened to. Matiu said, “The land is under claim and correctly belongs to the iwi of Muriwhenua, so it should not be sold at all. As Treaty partners we gifted the use of the land in the expectation that we would one day get a return from that use. For that reason neither should the trees be split from the land and sold. If, contrary to all principles of natural justice [a favourite phrase of Matiu’s], the government is determined to go ahead and sell anyway, you must give preference to our bid.” We were invited to place our paperwork in a ballot-type box, then shown the door. In the lift Matiu, bless his dear optimistic heart, grabbed my hand and danced us around shouting, “We’ve done it!” In my bones I knew we’d just been given the bum’s rush by the Crown and its officials. Why? Because, in their world view (as our bid proved), we had little money and less credibility. We did not succeed in buying the Aupouri forest. I filed the experience away.

Next, marriage. In the mid-80s a group of us talked with Dame Mira Szaszy about what we were experiencing as single women. In her time she’d run into the same thing – male resistance, even aggression towards us as leaders. She felt it was something that had come to New Zealand with Pakeha settlers – what she called a “Victorian assumption” where women, like property, marked a man’s status in society. Having married relatively late in life herself, Mira knew the feeling of being soiled by exchanges such as the late night call I once got from a contemporary who, when I politely declined to follow his chosen pathway to settlement of our claims, sneered down the phone in graphic detail what he thought I needed. I filed that away as well.

Money is never something I’ve worried about personally. Even in the poorest of times there’s always been enough to feed, clothe, clean and shelter us. Being single … well, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The value both money and a good marriage have for me today, 26 years since I started on what is still my life’s work, is deepened by the fact that I know what it’s like to be without them.

And for that I can partially thank the moneyed, male, married majority whose opposition helped me be a better mother. You showed me that it's while doing ordinary things that extraordinary things are fashioned. Thank you.

THE POWER PARADOX

It ain’t easy being a Maori leader engaged with the Crown. It can be likened to standing with a crowd of friends and whanau in an unmarked minefield, all of them needing medical help … urgently. But, unlike Western Generals, who generally lead from the rear, we must lead from the front or risk, literally, losing our followers.

Additionally, before we can lead the way out of the minefield, we have to first find where the front of the crowd is. Then, having established ourselves on the front, we have to keep a close eye on our backs for the hits from wannabes and once-weres, all while still keeping a sharp eye forward for those damned mines.

Should we be smart or lucky enough to get through without being blown to smithereens, we then find that we’re actually tied, by a very close and tight rein, to the last man behind us. So we can never totally relax or be completely free of danger until the last of us reaches safety.

The recent hikoi through Kaitaia protesting Te Runanga O Te Rarawa's decision to negotiate the foreshore and seabed has all the elements of the power paradox between Maori leaders and followers, as did an incident during the 2004 Hikoi over the same foreshore and seabed. A week before that hikoi ended, all eight Taitokerau iwi Chairs had agreed to sign and deliver a letter to the government condemning its decision to legislate away the right of Maori to have title to the foreshore and seabed investigated. Then one of the Chairs refused to sign. He felt the best protection for his iwi’s interests was to distance them from the ‘radical’ face of the Hikoi that was so infuriating Helen at the time. His people were not happy with him, BUT – they wanted to keep it hush-hush.

Both these hikoi illustrate the power paradox in a nutshell. On the one hand, how do leaders protect and advance their people’s interests without looking like a kupapa? And, on the other hand, how do people pull their leaders into line without turning it into a bloodbath inside a media circus? Mines everywhere!

My experience is that there is only one sure way through that minefield. It’s found in the example of the greatest leader ever who simply said, “Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister … and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.” Then he said, “Follow me.” Of course at least one of his erstwhile followers proved more lethal than any mine. But the simple principle of leadership that serves arose triumphant with him and remains shiningly valid into eternity.

Being a Maori leader engaged with the Crown can also be that simple … but it’s never going to be any easier. Such a paradox!