My father is a fan of Winston Peters. In fact instead of giving the stray cat that turned up a couple of years ago the usual lead between the eyes treatment, he kept and named it Winitana because he reckons that, like its namesake, “it’s a survivor with style.”
However, being on the Maori Roll, my
father has never cast a personal vote for the New Zealand First leader. But I think, given the chance, he would have in
the recent by-election.
Clearly a
number of Northlanders did, either before or on Saturday 28th March. That was also the hui-a-marama of Te
Runanga-a-Iwi o Ngati Kahu where, if anyone was on the General Roll, no-one was
owning up to it. But even amongst Ngati
Kahu, there was a degree of interest in the outcome of the by-election,
with the closing comment in the poroporoaki
being along the lines of, “Ka wini Winitana!”
The by-election
result is now history, and National didn’t lose Northland so much as Winston
went out and took it off them. But now,
what next?
For the red
blooded leftist parties the reality is largely unchanged. Although Winston won Northland with their
support, and may even win it again in 2017 with their support, the majority of
active voters in the electorate remain blue blooded to the core. Winitana will have to do more than merely survive
to change that reality.
Similarly,
the reality for Mana Whenua is unchanged, albeit for different reasons. Regardless of who holds the general seats,
the majority of people in them are pro-Crown, and will never allow Mana Whenua
to sit within their political system as anything other than servants to their
Crown.
Why then
would Maori want to share power with such people and within such systems? It seems contrary and unnatural. But is it?
I can think of at least two reasons why, in spite of the huge amount of
evidence that it’s a waste of time, many of us participate in the Crown’s electoral
systems.
The first is
to do with colonisation, which can be likened to what happens to the cage-bred offspring
of wild animals. They may retain many of
the characteristics of their wild relations, including language and
hierarchical behaviours. But if they are
returned
or introduced into the wild, cage-bred animals invariably have difficulty adjusting to
"fending for themselves” and often don’t make it, either dying in the
wilderness or returning to their cage.
And even if they
are accepted by their wild kin, while the gene pool is expanded, so too is the
risk of introducing new and devastating diseases into the wild population.
This is a very
close analogy to Maori who claim the title of Mana Whenua, but have been cut
off from its systems for so long they cannot adjust to “fending for themselves”
under it, but prefer to remain within, or return to, the familiar framework of
the Crown systems.
These Maori are
easy to spot, because wherever they go amongst Mana Whenua tuturu, they introduce
their own internalised dis-ease,
dissent and doubt about Mana Whenua systems.
The second reason some
of us take part in the Crown’s electoral systems is to do with hope. In spite of its past and present criminality
against us, some of us continue to hope that the Crown’s
recidivism can be curbed if we have a few of us inside its systems.
These ones can be
identified in at least three different ways:
Their exhaustion from trying to reconcile Crown and Mana Whenua systems;
their frustration that it ain’t happening; and their halos as they forgive
everyone, including themselves, for that fact.
Kei a
ratou. Kahuri.
Whether its colonisation or hope that motivates any of
us to take part, for me the Crown’s electoral processes have now become matters
for passive observation, and my active participation is reserved for mahi Mana
Whenua because that’s what brings me and my whanau wellbeing and happiness.
And, as even
our newest MP for Northland will know, being well and happy is much better than
just being a mere “survivor with style.”
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