Tuesday, June 28, 2016

HE WHAKAPUTANGA IN TE TAI TOKERAU

Last week’s BREXIT vote result in the United Kingdom took most markets, media commentators and government leaders (including John Key) by surprise.  They have all badly misjudged the mood of their peoples.

However for Iwi and Hapū engaged in constitutional transformation, the British vote to exit the European Union aligns with their own constitutional right to independence as first declared by Te Wakaminenga to the world in He Whakaputanga o Te Rangatiratanga o Nu Tireni (1835).

[1]Given that it was drafted and first signed in Te Tai Tokerau, He Whakaputanga figured largely in that region’s feedback on constitutional transformation.  In Waiomio, we heard –

“…In my view every discussion of this nature has to begin with tikanga and He Wakaputanga.  They define our independence and predate Te Tiriti … Te Tiriti actually makes no sense unless you understand that ... He Wakaputanga says rangatiratanga is independence, and that makes it like our preamble to Te Tiriti ... a statement of intent that every rangatira would have understood no matter where they lived or whether they signed He Wakaputanga or not.”

“We have lived and breathed He Wakaputanga … we have seen the Crown reject it, laugh about it … we have read historians saying it doesn’t mean anything, but we know our tūpuna thought about it and solemnly put their marks to it because they wanted the world and the King in England to know we were independent … We know that, we hold to that.”

“He Wakaputanga was seen by our old people as a form of protection because they could see what was coming and wanted to make it known that we had mana and were sovereign.  We knew all those things from our own history and from the travelling that many of the old people were doing at that time to England and elsewhere.  So in some ways it was kind of new, but it was also a really old tradition ... like an evolution to meet challenging times, just like we have to do today.”

“Just the fact that our tūpuna were smart enough to think about such things is important.  They weren’t afraid to talk about their power because they had it, and in Wakaputanga they told everyone what that meant … When we look at it like that, it was our first written constitution and it is still relevant today.”

In Kaikohe
“The Wakaminenga that is in He Wakaputanga and Te Tiriti is a body unique to us.  It met and was in existence years before 1835 and provided a model for all Hapū to work together and make joint independent decisions.  Our people have never lost sight of it, and neither have we forgotten what it promised.”

“It [He Wakaputanga] has been such an important part of my life and the life of my whānau.  Our tūpuna was there in 1835 and we grew up hearing stories about he Wakaminenga and the hui about (James) Busby … I think it is important because of all that history and what it says about us ... politically as well as historically.”

At Whatuwhiwhi
"I know not many Iwi outside the North signed He Wakaputanga, but its kaupapa is something everyone can understand.   It’s the same kaupapa about our mana that the old people took to Waitangi five years after He Wakaputanga was signed, and it’s still our kaupapa today.”

At their hui-a-marama on Saturday, the members of Te Rūnanga-a-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu considered last week’s BREXIT vote.  They see what is coming and, in the context of He Wakaputanga, empathise with its drive for independence and against globalisation.   

Next week we will consider feedback from other regions on He Wakaputanga.

Sunday, June 26, 2016

HE WHAKAPUTANGA AS A BASELINE

One outcome of the work done since 2010 by Matike Mai o Aotearoa has been the establishment of the baselines on which constitutional transformation may be brought to pass. 

The first baseline is tikanga, which we have already covered in previous posts.  The second is He Whakaputanga, or the Declaration of Sovereignty and Independence, which was signed by our tūpuna rangatira in 1835.[1]

Any consideration of He Whakaputanga begins with understanding both its unique origins and the practical limitations of its reach after 1835 due to the pressures of colonisation which inevitably affected people’s understanding of it.

During its many hui, Matike Mai o Aotearoa found that in Te Tai Tokerau, where He Whakaputanga was drafted and signed, it was discussed at length.  But it was mentioned only briefly in Tainui where people knew that one of the later signatories was Te Wherowhero who would subsequently become the first King.  And in other rohe, where it was not a direct part of their history, it was only mentioned in passing or not at all.

Yet the ideals it expressed were acknowledged and respected by all because they saw it as a novel and brave articulation of an old concept and site of constitutional power that had allowed an adjustment to changing circumstances, but remained consistent with traditional legal, philosophical and religious thought.

Essentially He Whakaputanga proposed that a collective of Iwi and Hapū polities should regularly come together in a Whakaminenga, or assembly, to make joint decisions on matters of common concern, while respecting the mana of each participating polity.  That joint decision-making power is defined in Article Two of He Whakaputanga as a “Kingitanga” where “all sovereign power and authority” is

“… declared to reside entirely and exclusively in the hereditary chiefs and heads of tribes … who also declared they will not permit any legislative authority separate from themselves.”

At the Waitangi Tribunal hearings into He Whakaputanga and Te Tiriti, the kaumātua Nuki Aldridge stated that

“The purpose of Te Wakaminenga was for Māori to control their own changes in the ‘new world’ … [it was] about how Māori were able to think and put themselves into the future.”

In the same hearings, Professor Patu Hohepa described it simply as

“a declaration of our independence and sovereignty as a nation of independent rangatira.”

Professor Dame Anne Salmond also stated at those hearings that under He Whakaputanga

“the rangatira … foreshadowed the possibility that they might delegate kāwanatanga or function of government to someone whom they themselves had appointed.  In such an arrangement however, they would retain their rangatiratanga or independence, and their mana and Kingitanga or sovereign authority and power.  The Declaration is unambiguous and the relationship between these key terms is clear.”


Because of its core ideals and clear expression of an existing constitutional authority, He Whakaputanga is a necessary baseline for our ongoing constitutional transformation discussions.


Sunday, June 19, 2016

TIKANGA AS LAW

[1]  Under Māori constitutionalism, mana and tikanga are like the maihi and amo of a whare tūpuna – they hold the “house” of the people together. 

Historically, tikanga was both the law and a discrete set of values by which mana was given constitutional structure and expression.  It still is.

"… tikanga Māori controls interpersonal relationships, provides ways for groups to meet and interact, and even determines how individuals identify themselves.  It is difficult to imagine any social situation where tikanga Māori has no place.” [Professor Sir Hirini Moko Mead – in his work “Tikanga Māori – Living by Māori Values”]

Tikanga may be seen as Māori principles for determining justice … The principles of tikanga provide the base for the Māori jural order.”  [Sir Edward Taihakurei Durie – former Chair of the Waitangi Tribunal]

As a practical law, tikanga still influences every aspect of Māori constitutionalism, from the political organisation of our Hapu and Iwi to the social interactions of individuals.  As a set of values it … is the “ought to be” of Māori existence.  Together, both aspects of tikanga mutually reinforce mana

 “Mana was always about political power or personal status, but it was always about protecting the whakapapa and the whenua too … that was its tikanga, the whole idea of relationships and making sure they were in sync.”

“… we’ve got trapped in the last few years to only see rangatiratanga as a right or some sort of power … and sometimes we think it’s just about making money.  But it was always a legal authority more than anything else … just like sovereignty is, except it rests on tikanga …

“If we look at what or how mana was exercised … nothing could be done unless it was done in the name of the law … tikanga was like a precondition for mana … and there is no doubt that mana or rangatiratanga was always meant to be exercised in a tika way.”

While some Tauiwi fear a strong Māori constitutionalism, many more do not.

“… for a long time [some] Pakeha said we didn’t have real law, and now they just say their law should prevail … their law should be the one law for all …”

“Saying you can have a Māori constitution without tikanga is like Pakeha saying they can have their constitution without the Magna Carta … It doesn’t make sense.”

Although we come from different constitutional and cultural traditions and have a way to go yet, we and our Tauiwi allies are already modelling the kind of tikanga relationships upon which practical constitutional transformation is already happening.

“… Tikanga was created because our old people knew humans were prone to make mistakes or act in a non-tikanga way … it’s where we need to start.”

Ka haere tonu tātou.  We will continue.

Monday, June 13, 2016

MOVING ON


[1] There is a distinct Māori constitutionalism.  It was clearly defined and understood prior to 1840, and it ensured the survival of our people for hundreds of years.  Tikanga was essential to its evolution and practice, and both He Whakaputanga and Te Tiriti were adaptive expressions of it.

The actual institutions of Māori constitutionalism (its effective sites of power, ariki and rangatira) may have been suppressed in colonisation, but its founding ideal (its concept of power, mana) has remained, as has the belief in the right to express it once again.

Any present day talk about tino rangatiratanga is, at its base, a talk about constitutionalism and all that it implies.  It is also a talk about the colonisation experiences after 1840 that diminished or took away the effective exercise of that constitutionalism. 

“We wouldn’t be having this discussion if it wasn’t for colonisation … in practical terms we can’t revert to what we were in 1840, but rangatiratanga hasn’t disappeared, and we just need to begin what will be a long kōrero among ourselves and with others about what that might mean today … what it really means to move on from colonisation.”

“Colonisation was about taking power more than anything else.  We just need to listen to the old people or read a (Waitangi) Tribunal Report to know that … The Settlements Act that led to the raupatu, that’s about power and not just about land.”

“… The grievances are real and still aren’t getting properly settled.  But the things our old people went through should make us think about what steps we have to take to go somewhere else in the future.”

“Sometimes we get caught in the trap of just accepting what colonisation has done, like setting up its own government and saying that it’s right or can’t be changed because it’s too hard … but as rangatahi we think we should try, because that’s what the treaty talked about.”

As we reclaim our right and authority to make our own decisions once again we must also reconcile the relationship between rangatiratanga (Māori) and kāwanatanga (Crown).

To that end our discussions have already brought forward the notion of different spheres of influence, with particular reference made to the efforts of the Anglican Church and other organisations to find different ways of modelling those different spheres.  They have also brought forward the notion of a relational sphere where Māori and the Crown might make decisions together.

In spite of all that has happened in the last 176 years to the effective practice of our constitutionalism, the right to it has been retained and the tikanga and mana of it have remained.  So too have Te Tiriti and He Whakaputanga.  

We take those as givens in moving on from colonisation.

Sunday, June 05, 2016

MANA AS THE CONCEPT OF POWER

Mana, our Māori concept of power, was grounded in Māori constitutional values and presumptions.  

Just as one could not be tangata whenua without any whenua to stand upon, Iwi and Hapū could only claim mana if they had the ability and capacity to effectively govern.  [1]

To be “mana enhancing” was to keep the whenua and the people safe.  In that way the concept of power was given effect. However, that power and its exercise in everyday political affairs was always sanctioned by tikanga and by the fact that mana in relationship to a particular whenua (mana whenua) was always dependent upon the mana in the land itself – mana i te whenua.

Prior to 1840, the common land mass that made up the islands of Te Ika a Maui and Te Waka a Maui was occupied by distinct Iwi and Hapū polities.  Each polity exercised its own mana and lived according to its tikanga secure in both its political independence and its whakapapa-based interdependence with others.

The effective governance on a day to day basis resided in the Hapū.  That authority is encapsulated in the word “hapū” itself which means to be pregnant or swelling with life.  So the Hapū was the place of power where the most life affirming (and life threatening) decisions were made.

Just as the common land mass of Europe was occupied by a number of different polities exercising their own sovereignty according to their law, so Iwi and Hapū were distinct and constitutionally regulated polities here.

Within this reality two fundamental prescriptions and proscriptions underpinned the effective exercise of mana. 

Firstly the power was bound by law and could only be exercised in ways consistent with tikanga and with the maintenance of whakapapa relationships and responsibilities.  

Secondly the power was held as a taonga handed down from the tūpuna to be exercised by the living for the benefit of the mokopuna.

For these reasons it was a constitutional authority that could never be ceded or given away. Indeed no matter how much mana might vest in an Iwi or Hapū, and no matter how powerful individual Rangatira might presume to be, they never possessed the authority nor the right to subordinate the mana of the collective to some other entity.  To do so would have been to give away the whakapapa and responsibilities bequeathed by the tūpuna.

The fact that there is no word for “cede” in te reo is not a linguistic shortcoming but an indication that to even contemplate giving away mana would have been legally impossible, culturally incomprehensible, and constitutionally untenable.

In that context, political power and tikanga were like the maihi and amo of a whare tūpuna – they held the “house” of the people together. 

Next week we will further consider the political and constitutional role of tikanga.




[1] Sixth edited extract from pp. 35 – 36 of He Whakaaro Here Whakaumu Mō Aotearoa – The Report of Matike Mai Aotearoa – The Independent Working Group on Constitutional Transformation.