2018 - HAERE RA

He rāngai maomao i taku ki tua o Nukutaurua, e kore a muri e hokia.

“A shoal of maomao (fish) that gets beyond Nukutaurua (a reef outside Mangōnui harbour) will never return.”

This hakatauki refers to our departed and are the words spoken by the Ngāti Awa rangatira, Kauri, to his people who had settled and married into Ngāti Kahu and did not want him to return home.  His reply was to explain to his people that he was resolute in his decision to leave.

Kauri could not stay in Ngāti Kahu because he was not from here and he wanted to take his people home where they belonged.  So, he moved all the kōiwi (bones) of his people from Pārakerake (a mountain between Parapara and Aurere) in preparation for his and their return, and likened himself to the maomao beyond Nukutaurua reef; once he passed it, he would never look back.  And, indeed, Kauri never returned to Ngāti Kahu.

This hakatauki has been used to encourage Ngāti Kahu and others to be resolute in our decision making; to set a goal and not waiver from it until it is completed.

It has also been applied to the irrevocable passing of the years which, in New Zealand, are marked according to the Julian calendar that starts 1st of January and ends 31st December. 

But in Aotearoa there are close to 400 maramataka (calendars).  Each one takes into account the different times, seasons, climates and energies of each locale and each day is marked according to the cycle of the marama (moon).  So each day of that cycle has a specific name which is a metaphor for the kinds of activities that will suit its specific time, season, climate and energy.  Each maramtaka is a scientifically logical matrix based on centuries of observation and experience that works.

For those who work directly in te taiao (the natural environment), the correct maramataka for their locale is an especially great boon and blessing that passes on to all who consume or rely upon what we produce. 

In terms of productivity, I find the maramataka more useful than the calendar.  Engari, I have learnt to  live a synthesis of both.

According to our local maramataka of Ngāti Kahu,we are in the season of Raumati (summer) and the marama (month) of Hakihea; Christmas Day will be Rakaumatohi and New Year’s Day in Kohitatea (January) will be Tangaroa a Roto, both high energy days.  Hei aha!  Whatever we choose to do on those days and regardless of which maramataka we choose to follow, once every day passes beyond Nukutaurua, it will never return. 

Tae noa ki te hakatau ano mātou, ma te Atua e manaaki e tiaki i ngā wā katoa. (Until we meet again, may the God of your understanding bless and keep you at all times.)

           

TOHORA AND KAURI

There is a pakiwaitara (legend) that tells of a time when Tohorā (the Whale) lived on land and was very close to his brother, Kauri (Agathis Australis).  However, unlike the young Kauri, the giant Tohorā yearned to be free from Iwi (nations) who constantly hunted him for wealth and mana.

Knowing that his teina (younger brother) would face the same fate when he grew tall and strong, Tohorā suggested they take refuge within the depths of the Whare belonging to their uncle Tangaroa (Atua of the sea) where they would be far from the reach of those who hunted them.

But Kauri loved the embrace of Papatūānuku (Earth Mother) and was rooted so deep into the Whare of his father Tāne (Atua of the forest), that Tohorā could not take him to the sea.  So, before he left, Tohorā bestowed upon Kauri a cloak made of his skin to give him some protection from those who would hunt him for his golden blood.

As time went by, Tohorā regularly rose from the depths and sent bursts of wai (water) towards Ranginui (the Sky Father) in the hopes that his love would be carried on the winds of Tāwhirimātea (Atua of the winds) to touch his teina. 

At the same time, Kauri soaked up mana from Papatūānuku to grow taller and stronger in the hopes that he would one day be able to look out to sea and gaze upon his beloved tuakana (older brother) once more.

Although Iwi remain kaihakamahi (users) of the resources provided by Tohorā and Kauri, we have always been their whanaunga (relations) and are also their kaitiaki (protectors).  So, whenever they return to the land, we support their passage from one plain of existence to the next and thank them for providing us with the mana of their kōhiwi (bones).  They also remind us that we are kaitiaki of Kauri. 

At the same time, Kauri continue to purify our air and their kiri (bark) reminds us of our responsibility to look after the children of Tohorā who come ashore in our rohe.

That is why Te Whānau Moana me Rorohuri, supported by neighbouring hapū, DoC, Ngāti Kahu Rūnanga and Te Tohunga Tohorā, are preparing the Parāoa (sperm whale) that died on Tokerau Beach last week.  

It’s also why other Iwi are working to save the Tohorā that grounded on Te Oneroa-ā-Tohe (Ninety Mile Beach) over the weekend.  

Finally, it’s why, at 2pm today, there is a hui at 21A Parkdale Cres in Kaitāia with the Ministry of Primary Industries to address the dieback disease killing Kauri.

The pakiwaitara above tells us it is no coincidence that Tohorā and Kauri are both in distress at this time.  However, it also tells us that their healing may be found in their relationship.  So too do these two hakatauki (proverbs):  Anā tā te Parāoa (here is the strength of the Sperm Whale).  Kia toitū he Kauri (keep Kauri standing).  Koinā te kōrero. 

HAKAPAPA OF WATER

In a recent article for Spin-Off, Tina Ngata of Ngāti Porou, described the hakapapa of water to help people understand the prevailing Māori perspective on the current freshwater debate.  Her discourse is too important to summarise, so I have taken the liberty of quoting her opening statements extensively, as follows:

“Our world, Te Ao Māori, is a hakapapa – one vast genealogical chart that connects us as siblings, mutually dependent upon all that surrounds us in this time, and across time.

“Water first manifests in this genealogy as Wainuiātea – the great expanse of water, the gathering of all waters – who was the first partner of Ranginui, the Sky Father. Freshwater first appears as a consequence of the parting of Ranginui, Sky Father, from Papatūānuku, Earth Mother. Their grief and yearning for each other presents as the teardrops (rain) of Ranginui and the sighs (mist) of Papatūānuku.

“We can therefore see freshwater as the inevitable consequence of atmosphere, upon which all life depends. It is brought about through the separation of land and sky, held in place through the Atua Tāne, in the form of trees.

“In this form, Tāne is known as Tāne-Toko-Rangi – Tāne who holds up the sky. However, one of his multitude of other forms is Tāne te Waiora – Tāne of the life-giving waters, of light, well-being and prosperity. It was the union of Tāne te Waiora and Hinetūparimaunga, the Atua of mountains, that brought about Parawhenuamea, personification of freshwater on land.

“That first sacred teardrop became Te Ihorangi, Atua of rain, parent of the hundreds of different forms of rain and snow that each had its own name, and also parent of Tuna, the freshwater eel. Once born, Tuna was given into the care of Parawhenuamea and Hinemoana, Atua of freshwater and saltwater.

“Hakapapa helped us to consider the consequences of our actions across multiple spaces and make sense of what was happening around us. Indeed, relationships – hakapapa – are regularly cited as a foundational principle of Te Ao Māori.

“Māori scholars have often reflected upon the severe impacts of the loss of Mana Atua upon our people’s well-being, upon our perception of the world around us and our place in it… What was once a relationship based upon connectedness and reciprocity between us and our non-human ancestors thereby shifts towards one of dominion over and ownership of assets.”

In closing, I note that the above shift is not only unhealthy and unhelpful, it is all too often matched by a shift in the longstanding relationships between whānau, hapū and iwi (humans related by hakapapa) from reciprocity towards rancour over who has rights and responsibilities over which wai.  In the meantime, the wai itself is degrading and dying right before our eyes.

It is way past time that we remembered or relearnt all of our hakapapa to each other, including to water, because ultimately, all life depends on it.

DEALING WITH THE DISEASE

The hapū and iwi of Aotearoa must deal with the same domestic and international pressures as other sovereign nations; climate change, pollution, violence, security and wellbeing, trade agreements, me wētahi atu (etc).   We must also deal with the modern day diseases of colonisation that afflict too many of our people; welfare dependency, poor health, low education, high unemployment, crime, addiction, suicide, me wētahi atu.

The medical definition of disease is “a particular abnormal condition that negatively affects the structure or function of part or all of an organism, and that is not due to any external injury.”  In humans, disease may refer to any condition that causes physical or emotional pain, dysfunction, distress, social problems, or death to the person afflicted, or for those in contact with the person.

So, what do we do about the diseases of colonisation amongst our hapū and iwi?

The first thing we do is study and understand the diseases’ causes and correlations so that we can identify their structures and pinpoint their power sources – the things that keep them in place, alive and breeding.  This kind of analysis is not a blame game exercise.  It’s a simple reality that must be done if we are to treat these diseases amongst ourselves, and it requires an unflinching and fearless look at ourselves as well as the colonisers.

Seven generations after Te Tiriti o Waitangi was signed, this is a work still in progress and only our Prophets can see the end in clear sight.  But even before I started writing these columns 12 years ago, our collective understanding had been greatly enlightened by the work and teachings of generations of enlightened rangatira.

Just in Te Hiku o Te Ika alone, and in my lifetime, we were blessed to learn from the likes of Nuki Aldridge, Hone Kamariere, Pa Henare Tait, Gloria Herbert, Māori Marsden, Makari Matiu, Matiu Rata, Mira Szaszy, Whina Cooper, Ta Hemi Henare and so many others.  Today, we carry the work on without fear that it will ever fail, especially when we consider the powerful people we have birthed and grown who already work alongside us as we did with our kuia kaumātua, and who will replace us eventually. 

In the coming weeks and months, I will cover the many ways in which we are slowly but steadily treating and recovering from these diseases that are common amongst colonised peoples around the world.

To end this column, we know that none of the modern day diseases listed above existed amongst hapū and iwi prior to colonisation.  If they had, then the fantasies of yesteryear’s coloniser, like terra nullius, would have been fulfilled as fact, and the odd notions of their modern counterparts that Europeans rather than Māori were the first inhabitants of these islands would be accepted as fact.

  

Those fantasies and notions have a disease pathology of their own, but I will leave them for others to deal with.

DONE AND DUSTED

This is the time of year when many charities are reporting to their members at their Hui-a-Tau (AGM) and the Ngāti Kahu Group is amongst that number.  The parent body of the Group is Te Rūnanga-ā-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu which has two first tier subsidiaries and one second tier subsidiary. 

At the AGM last Saturday, the Rūnanga confirmed its 26 current Board members who represent 13 Marae as well as our sole Auckland-based Taurahere.  Then, along with its subsidiaries, the Rūnanga reported the highlights and lowlights of 2018, the most important being that Kotahitanga o Ngāti Kahu (Ngāti Kahu unity) was supported, promoted and modelled for all we were worth! 

It also covered our efforts to help our treaty partner rid itself of the stigma of recidivist criminality that dogs it to this day.  The fact that the Crown’s previous government lost its mandate last year after unsuccessfully trying to over-ride and replace the Ngāti Kahu mandate has not changed anything; the previous government was unsuccessful, and its successor remains unshriven.

We also reported on the decent relationships we have with Shanghai CRED, Taitokerau Culinary College Taitokerau QRC Resort College, PĀMU and various arms of our treaty partner.

On the educational front, we covered our Māori – Mandarin language exchange, hakaora o te reo me ona tikanga Māori (revitalisation of our language and protocols), provision of access to higher learning and training opportunities, and participation in Te Kāhui Ako o Te Hiku o Te Ika which covers ten mainstream schools in the district.

Our environmental outcomes included support for the Hapū Integration Group on the Taipā Bridge Upgrade Project, support for Project Waiporohita to restore the mauri of our lovely little lake, support for the establishment of the Rāhui and the Pou at Maitai Bay, and support for the Para Kore (Zero Waste), Maara Kai (community gardens), and Ngā Maramara o Parata (Parkdale Park) projects.

Underpinning this aspect of our charitable work was Te Hakaputanga o Te Rangatiratanga o Ngāti Kahu (the Declaration of Sovereignty of the Hapū of Ngāti Kahu) which is notified every year to the Crown and its agents, as well as to the general public.

We also reported on our advocacy, child care and protection and constitutional transformation work, as well as our delivery of wananga on Tikanga Tangihanga (death and funeral protocols), Ohu Kaimoana (customary fishing protocols) and Dynamics of Whanaungatanga, complemented by the publication of our book, Ngāti Kahu: Portrait of a Sovereign Nation and the unveiling of our pou, Te Hononga o Ngāti Kahu as part of our 2018 symposium. 

Te Rūnanga-ā-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu’s charitable outcomes during the year were all self-funded, confirming that Iwi don’t need a Crown-determined “settlement” (in reality an extinguishment of Ko Te Tuatahi me Ko Te Tuarua o Te Tiriti o Waitangi) to meet our Ko Te Tuatoru rights and needs. 

Today we can report that it is our AGM that is done and dusted, not our rangatiratanga.

SHANGHAI 2018 - DAY FIVE

Ngāti Kahu’s Diplomatic and Cultural Mission to China this year began with a delay of 21 hours as the result of a still-unexplained problem with Air New Zealand’s flight 289.  This was then followed by a similarly unexplained failure in customer service when Air New Zealand said it could not get us to Shanghai until four days later, an untenable delay that would have shortened our Mission so drastically it would have been pointless even going.

After fruitless hours of trying to get Air New Zealand to help us, our Chinese host in Shanghai advised us to meet with the Auckland Airport Manager who had a duty to get us to China with as little delay as possible. 

Thanks to the unflagging efforts of the Manager, Mr Nguyen, we had arrived only one day late, a delay that was manageable for both our host and us.

So here we are on the fifth day, all travelling well together and looking forward to spending time with our host, Gui Zhong, as we cross Huangpu (mother river) to the Pudong (east bank) side of Shanghai where his private club is located. 

Just a little over thirty years ago, Pudong was nothing but rice paddies and farmland.  Then in 1993, the Chinese government created the Pudong New Area.  Now, it is a financial hub of modern China containing several landmark buildings that we have visited in previous years; the Oriental Pearl Tower, the Jin Mao Building, the Shanghai World Financial Centre and Shanghai Tower.

Pudong is also home to more than five million inhabitants, an explosive growth since the turn of the century, thanks mainly to immigrants pouring in from other parts of China seeking broader and better educational, employment and social opportunities.

Nestled in the midst of Pudong is the Belle Wood Club and Villa Estate, a compound of elegant two-storey homes built by Shanghai CRED around a communal clubhouse, gym, indoor and outdoor pools, kids playground, squash and tennis courts, sauna and restaurant.  Some of the homes also come with private swimming pools.

Our time with Gui Zhong is spent talking about the proposed Carrington development on Karikari peninsula which he has owned since 2013.  His cooperation agreement with us supports the determination of the local Karikari marae to protect the ancient burial cave Te Ana o Taite and other waahi tapū from that development.  His agreement with Haititaimarangai, the other local marae, will see them provide him with a Cultural Impact Assessment on the development in due course.  The key take home messages from our meeting are – clarity and harmony are needed.

After lunch, we present him with a signed copy of our book, Ngāti Kahu: Portrait of a Sovereign Nation then participate in the tea ceremony and a calligraphy demonstration before ending our visit with a stroll through the estate. These quiet activities are a nice way to wind down from the hustle and bustle of the preceding week.

To be continued.

SHANGHAI MISSION - DAY FOUR

One of the loveliest aspects of Ngāti Kahu’s annual Missions to China is the strengthening of whanaungatanga (relationships) between the members of each Delegation.  Our first year was an entirely Ngāti Kahu affair, but since 2016, Mr Gui has chosen members of his Carrington staff and their whānau to join us.  Initially, I had wondered how this combination might be affected by the need that arises from time to time for Ngāti Kahu to hui privately. 

Very quickly I got my answer, outside our normal lives and inside a foreign country, we quickly become comfortable enough to know when to hang together and when to diplomatically separate.  And regardless of whether we are selected by Mr Gui or Ngāti Kahu, we bond with and care for each other. 

That caring manifests in many ways. E.g. on day four of the Mission, as we make our way through the Shanghai Museum of Art and Technology surrounded by millions of tamariki mokopuna who weren’t always looking where they were going, one of our younger members says, “Stay close behind me whaea,” then places himself between me and the jostling crowds. 

This museum is one of China’s most visited.  Publicly administered by the government and privately funded by local businesses, including Shanghai CRED, it has 14 permanent exhibitions and 4 science-themed IMAX cinemas.  However, we end up only visiting one exhibition, the Spectrum of Life, which imitates the scenery of Yunnan Province and displays its diversity of creatures.

By the time we finish viewing this exhibition, it is already afternoon and I for one am feeling the strain of the crowds.  So, when our guide gives us a choice of visiting another exhibition or having lunch, the unanimous and immediate response is, “Lunch!”  And on that slightly hasty note we exit stage left for lunch.

That afternoon, we make our way over to the Fake Markets in the massive underground AP Plaza Mall which has more than 1,000 stores selling clothes, suitcases, watches, and other luxury goods that are openly fake but just as good as their branded counterparts.  By the end of the afternoon, and with the help of a couple of our Ngāti Kahu members who are good hagglers, all of us leave with most of our gift shopping done for this year and our thoughts are turning homeward.

That evening, our Carrington members go out to try and buy some KFC as a birthday surprise for one of our Ngāti Kahu members who loves the stuff.  They return emptyhanded an hour later, having learnt that without an interpreter it is really hard to complete any mission in China.  We warmly welcome them back into the fold.

Since 2015, two dozen Ngāti Kahu individuals and seven Carrington members have travelled this road together building relationships and understanding that outlast each Mission and increase our opportunities and capacity as a sovereign people to act locally while thinking globally. 

To be continued.

 

SHANGHAI MISSION - DAY THREE

On day three of the Mission, our Ngāti Kahu Delegation wake up back in Shanghai feeling rested and raring to go.  However, my iPhone from which I have been livestreaming our daily activities, is not in the same state at all. 

Although the hotel has a wall point that fits its New Zealand charger, the phone is not charging.  Luckily though, my power pack has a full charge. 

The Chinese government can block access to facebook, google and other internet addictions, but only if you’re using a Chinese LAN or wi-fi service.  If, like me, you use your own satellite-dependent data roaming service, then you can pretty much carry on as you would at home.  With that, I message all our whānau and friends who have been following my livestreams: 

“HE HAKAHOU (UPDATE): Aroha mai (sorry) whānau but my phone is struggling to charge and so I’ve got it on the power pack and won’t be able to livestream this morning. Us oldies are holding up well – thank you for asking Kui.  In the meantime, aroha tetahi ki tetahi (love one another).”

NB – Kui is one of our many formidable but loving Ngāti Kahu kuia who keep us all on our toes and are there to pick us up if we trip. 

Our first stop for the day, the Shanghai Institute of Visual Art (SIVA) was established in 2005 as part of Fudan University.  Built by a JV that includes our host Mr Gui’s company Shanghai CRED, in 2013 SIVA became completely independent.  Its faculty is made up of full-time and part-time teachers, as well as visiting and honourary professors from home and abroad; three from New Zealand. Guest lecturers and professors include actor Jackie Chan, Beowulf and Spider-Man movie animator Sing-Chong Foo, and Japanese manga artist Makoto Ogino, the creator of the “Peacock King”.  I record as much as I can of this state of the art facility for upload later.

Thankfully, by the time we reach our second stop of the day, the Guang Fu Lin Cultural Heritage Centre, my phone has enough charge to livestream and we’re able to take our whānau with us through an underground archaeological site that covers 6,000 years of history with models that are so lifelike I have to surreptitiously poke one of them to convince me they are only wax. 

Our whānau are also able to get a taste of what it’s like being in Shanghai during the school holidays with millions of kids everywhere accompanied by nannas and papas.  Imagine Te Papa Tongarewa during our school holidays, then multiply by fifty; and that’s being conservative. 

That night we meet to recap the day’s learnings and observations, and all agree that even in this huge population and ancient culture, our Ngāti Kahu kaiwhakapāoho (broadcasters) and ringatoi (artists) would fit right in at SIVA while our tamariki mokopuna would bug out at both SIVA and the museum. 

To be continued.

SHANGHAI MISSION - DAY TWO

On day two of the Mission, our Ngāti Kahu Delegation awake in Zhouzhuang, a 900 year old suburb situated in the heart of Suzhou, itself built 2,500 years ago along a large network of canals.

We start our day with karakia and breakfast, then tour the markets of this ‘water town’ where we experience the fine art of haggling and learn to get it right or else sit down, avoid all eye contact and leave it to the experts. 

The hullabaloo of the markets is replaced with serenity at our next destination, a large and open rectangular courtyard with shaded porticoes on three sides and a raised, roofed stage on the fourth.  Like us, our hosts use music and theatre to tell their stories, and the stage is taken by the renowned Suzhou Opera to tell us two of them. 

First comes the story of a monk and a nun who broke their vows of celibacy to fulfil their dream of living and loving together, going on to become ancestors to many of the people of Suzhou – waimarie rātou (lucky descendants)!

The next story has a single character whose makeup and movements suggest either a monkey, a rat or a cat.  Eventually, we decide he’s a mix of them all because his is the story of a very game thief who risks life and limb to steal from the emperor. He’s the Chinese Maui-Tikitiki-ā-Taranga; nanakia! 

After lunch, our guide Julia introduces us to the elegantly preserved home of Zhou Zhong, the founder of Zhouzhuang.  I am always struck anew when we enter these ancient spaces, first that they have survived so much human history; and second, that some of their classic architecture is so similar to that of our tūpuna. 

Doors and walls are adorned with intricate carvings that tell important stories, while doorsteps are elevated, both as an indicator of status and a protection against ghosts which are traditionally thought to have no knees, so are unable to step over high obstacles.  Ridgepoles are buttressed by rafters, reminiscent of our tāhuhu and heke, while ancestors and guardians are symbolically remembered and represented, as are tūpuna and kaitiaki in our architecture.

We end our time in Suzhou with a gondola ride along the main canals.  Initially we have a rocky start but, encouraged by loud shouting from the kuia (elderly woman) who is our gondolier, we finally get our weight distribution right.

Using a deceptively simple wrist-twisting action on the tiller, the kuia then serenades us throughout.  We nickname her ‘Aunty Suzie’ after one of our late, great kuia who, as occasion demanded, could similarly be commanding, comical, delightful or daunting – the kind of woman you want on your side. To reciprocate, we sing Putiputi Kaneihana and gift her a korari (flax) putiputi (flower) brooch. 

The return journey to Shanghai starts with contemplative tātākī (chatter) about what we’ve experienced and ends in haumūmūtanga (silence) as jetlag catches up on us all. 

To be continued.

SHANGHAI MISSION 2018 - DAY ONE

PURPOSES:  Ngāti Kahu and Shanghai CRED conduct an annual cultural exchange and diplomatic mission to share our cultures, strengthen our mutual understanding and friendship, explore commercial opportunities of benefit to our peoples, progress in harmony.

This was our fourth annual Mission and was once again led by Ahorangi (Professor) Margaret Mutu (Te Whānau Moana/ Te Rorohuri) and me (Patu Kōraha / Matarahurahu). 

This year’s Ngāti Kahu Delegation included Ven Lloyd Popata (Te Paatu / Pikaahu / Matakairiri), Tony Walden (Ngāti Tara / Te Whānau Moana), DeeAnn Wolferstan (Patu Kōraha), Te Kani Williams (Ngāi Tuhoe / Te Aupōuri), Anthony Housham (Patu Kōraha), Hazely Windleborn (Te Whānau Moana / Te Rorohuri / Matarahurahu) and Adrian White (Te Whānau Moana / Te Rorohuri).  We were also joined by two Carrington employees, William Harris and Alan Collinson, as well as William’s wife Hana.

DAY ONE:  As we drive 100km north to Suzhou those of us who have been in Shanghai before notice big changes since last year – less traffic, less people, significantly fewer slums and more blue sky.  We’re told this is due to combined government efforts to increase the uptake of electric vehicles and to redistribute the population to satellite cities within an hour’s commute via Shanghai Metro and the high speed Maglev trains.  It seems to be working. 

Two hours later we arrive in Suzhou. This ancient city was founded in 514 BC and has over 2,500 years of history. With high life expectancy and per capita incomes, it’s comparable to a moderately developed country.

Built on an ancient system of canals, it is often dubbed the "Venice of the East" or "Venice of China", but I think it should be the other way round, given that Venice was founded some 800 years after Suzhou. 

On arrival we tour the city's Classic Gardens which are listed as UNESCO heritage sites.  in China, gardens are a way to commemorate and honour people who were loved and respected. They were hammered under Mao Tse Tung and his successors, and many of the oldest were completely destroyed. Often built on a zig zag pattern, they take up relatively little space but give an impression of being huge.

In the afternoon we visit the First National Silk factory to see how silk was made before the economic reforms. Nowadays it’s made in modern factories, so this facility is largely a museum that captures and preserves past practice.  Dangerously for our wallets, it’s also a shop.

That night we dine in a countryside restaurant where we are joined by the Master and Diva of the Suzhou Opera.  For us who tell our stories in moteatea, pao and patere, even though we could not understand all the details of their stories that they sang, the rangi was somehow familiar and lovely.

We end our day with a half hour walk into Zhouzhuang, where no buses or heavy traffic are permitted and where we stay in a 900 year old hotel.

To be continued.

LEAVE IT ON THE MARAE

Speaking at this year’s New Zealand Nurse’s Association conference, Dr Moana Jackson addressed the always topical issue of “free speech”.  This is an edit of what he had to say.

 “Earlier this year, I [read] six speeches by a man called Don Brash and six speeches by a man called Bob Jones.  It was one of the most difficult and tortuous jobs I ever set myself, because their exercise of free speech has actually been an exercise to demean and diminish us, and the presumption that free speech does not have a cost is a cultural European presumption which our people have never shared.”

Moana points out that the modern-day western notion of free speech has its genesis in the period of European history known as The Enlightenment, its best-known proponent being the French philosopher Voltaire who is attributed with saying, “I may disagree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” 

There is good evidence that Voltaire never actually said it, but, in any event, that statement has become the gold standard for quotations mustered in defence of free speech. As Moana notes, it also “became a very profound base for the western Liberal-Democratic tradition.  But like all parts of [that] tradition, whether it is their parliamentary system, Kings, Queens or Courts, [their notion of ‘free’ speech is a European] cultural creation that came from a particular place and story in a particular land.”  And sadly, it has “too often been used to make others ‘unfree’.” 

But Moana also notes that the Maori cultural notion of free speech is quite different and “is exemplified every day on our Marae which are recognised as the place of Tūmatauenga where people can be honest, critical, funny and witty; at someone else’s expense.”

In this tradition, “the notion of freedom of speech on the place of Tumatauenga is always balanced by the fact that the Marae Ātea sits in front of the Whare Tūpuna; the place of Rongo; the place of peace.”

We have a whakatauki, ‘The thrust of the taiaha may be pushed aside, but the thrust of words cannot’.  Therefore, Moana says that the principle of free speech on the Marae is balanced by the principles of protection, preservation and maintenance of “peace in the relationships of those who are on the Marae.  Without that balance and preservation,” Moana cautions, “People can be hurt, relationships can be placed at risk.” 

Clearly, free speech is not reserved just for the Marae.  However, the principles underpinning our cultural notion of it can be exercised anywhere so that “words can flow freely, challenges can be made, and questions can be asked.”

As Moana concludes, we should “make a stand on free speech.  Not the free speech envisaged by a Don Brash or a Bob Jones or two strange Canadians, but rather the free speech envisaged by our people in the stories that they left on the Marae.”

THE VISION REMAINS INTACT

Following the sale of both the Aupōuri forest and the Kaitāia-based NPL mill in 1990 to Juken New Zealand (JNL), the members of the Northern Federation of Māori Authorities (NORFED) negotiated individual lease reviews with JNL for each of their forests.

By the mid-1990s, NORFED had effectively gone into recess, but the vision remained intact.  In the intervening years, the Aupōuri forest has changed ownership at least once more, and the original mill, built in the 1980s, has been expanded to include other mills which produce other wood panel products besides triboard.

There were a number of factors that influenced the building of those mills in Kaitāia.  The support of local and central government regulators helped, as did the town’s proximity to the neighbouring Aupōuri forest with its nursery and forest school, both since closed. However, in my opinion, these were all secondary to the relationship and agreement between Keith Hunt and the NORFED forest owners.  

Whether you love, hate or are completely indifferent to the original mill, it was built on the shared vision of NORFED and NPL leaders. 

Similarly, in the 1960s and 70s, the Aupōuri forest had been planted on the shared vision of local Iwi and New Zealand Forest Service (NZFS) leaders. But, while Dr Barry Rigby’s 1999 report, A History of the Aupouri State Forest, fully covers the establishment of the Aupōuri forest, there isn’t a similar record about the NORFED forests and the NPL mill; what little there is mentions Keith Hunt only in passing, and NORFED’s leaders not at all.  That is why, in recent weeks, I have serialised this brief history about them.  It is nowhere near complete, but it is a start.

As Pētia Welsh predicted in the 1970s, forestry has become an economic mainstay in the region, and the power players are those who operate across the whole value chain of the industry.  Central to their success are the JNL mills, the 21,283 ha Aupōuri forest and the 12,000 has of forests planted on lands owned by the founding members of NORFED. 

Today’s entrepreneurs may disagree with NORFED’S focus on the monoculture of radiata pine; hei aha (whatever).  Theirs was a wide vision, but it was forged during a time when narrow monoculturalism was the norm across all aspects of society and so their focus, by necessity, was also narrowed.   

Observing the steam issuing daily from the mills and the hundreds of workers and tonnes of logs passing through their gates, I am grateful that today’s entrepreneurs can have a wider vision and focus and are further across the entire value chain of their chosen industries than NORFED was able to get in forestry.

But most of all, I’m grateful to those entrepreneurs who preceded them, including Pētia (Bill) Welsh, Andrew Rollo, John Brown, Matiu Rata, Amy Tatana, Bully Kendall, Gloria Herbert ara ngā mate katoa o NORFED me ta rātou hoa mahi, Keith Hunt.  The vision remains intact.

THE NORTHERN PULP MILL SALE

After the Aupōuri forest was sold in 1990 to Juken New Zealand (JNL), the NORFED forest owners strove to preserve our original vision to be part of the entire value chain, from owning the land in which the trees grew, through to milling, finishing and marketing the timber and other end products.   

Having failed to purchase the Aupōuri forest ourselves, we then considered purchasing the Northern Pulp Ltd (NPL) mill, which had by then moved into full blown receivership and was on the market.  However, after exhausting every avenue, we could not leverage the necessary money to complete the purchase. So, we decided to meet with JNL which was shaping up to be the likely buyer. 

On the night before our first meeting with JNL, Pētia Welsh, the architect of NORFED, called me and my mother to visit him at Kaitāia hospital.  Clearly unwell, he steadily instructed us for hours on what we were to say and do, and specifically told us that no matter what happened with him, we were not to cancel the meeting. 

The primary goal, he emphasised, was to get JNL to use its clout as forest and mill owner in ways that supported our own vision.  If that was not possible, then our fall-back position was to do whatever it took to minimise the impact of the impending changes on our people.  We left around midnight and awoke to the news that in the early hours of the morning, Pētia had passed away.

Although grieving, we honoured his instructions and held the meeting.  Did we succeed in our primary goal?  No.  Did we succeed in our fall-back position?  Partly. 

With regard to the forest, the huge impact had already occurred in 1988 with corporatisation of Aupōuri forest and the catastrophic loss of more than 130 jobs; so, its privatisation in 1990 had not introduced any further significant change, other than ownership. 

However, with regard to the mill, because only the NPL assets (including our leases) and none of its liabilities would transfer to the new JNL owners, we were to lose the opportunity to take up the 15% shareholding in the mill that had been reserved for us, a major body blow to our vision.

That said, Toshio Nakamoto (JNL President) and his 2IC Tommy (Tomio) Inagaki agreed at the meeting to renegotiate aspects of our leases, like changing the management regimes of parts of our forests from low value pulpwood to higher value pruned logs for export to their Japanese markets. 

Most importantly, they would not only keep the mill open, thus avoiding further job losses for our people, they also planned to expand it. On that basis, we gave our support for their bid.

Within a few weeks of our meeting, and with the support of central and local government leaders, JNL received Overseas Investment Commission consent to purchase the mill for $17.7million. 

Next week I will conclude this brief history of NORFED and the JNL mills in Kaitāia.

THE AUPOURI FOREST SALE

The fates of both the NPL/JNL mill in Kaitāia and the Aupōuri forest have always and inevitably been intertwined. In fact, one without the other would drastically diminish the value of both. Also, without a doubt, the loss of either or both of them would be catastrophic for the region’s economy.

That is the case now, and it was the case in 1990 when the Aupōuri forest was put up for sale at the same time that the NPL mill went into statutory management.

For the NORFED forest owners, at stake were not only our lease arrangements with NPL and our 15% share option in the mill, so too was our vision to be part of the entire value chain, from owning the land in which the trees grew, through to milling, finishing and marketing the timber and other end products.  Additionally, the sale of the Aupōuri forest logging operations would have a huge gravitational impact on us, because wherever Aupōuri forest went, so would our forests. 

That is why we strongly resisted the sales of both the mill and the forest.   Initially, we thought we had allies in the New Zealand Māori Council (NZMC) and Federation of Māori Authorities  (FOMA) who were jointly prosecuting the “lands case".  However, the outcomes of that case, while important and wonderful in many ways, ultimately undermined our opposition to the sales, and it became clear that they were going to go ahead regardless.

At that point, we reasoned that if we owned the Aupōuri forest, we would have more chance of saving the mill and all it meant to us. So, between us, the seven NORFED member organisations came up with the $100,000 deposit needed to make a bid of $1million for the Aupōuri forest. 

On the final day, Matiu Rata (as Chair of Muriwhenua Incorporation) and I (as Secretary of Parengarenga B3 Trust) were sent to Wellington by NORFED to file our tender. We arrived at the Forest Corp HQ in time for a cordial cup of tea and chat, before ceremoniously placing our cheque and documents into the slot of the tender box just a few minutes before the 4pm deadline.  Then we were respectfully ushered out to the lifts.

In my heart of hearts, I knew that we had just been given a polite version of the bum’s rush. However, Matiu (God bless his optimistic heart) was positive that we had succeeded.  I so wanted to believe he was right. I wish he had been right. 

On 14^th January 1991, the Aupōuri Crown Forestry License was formally executed between the Crown and Juken Nissho (JNL) who had won the tender and purchased the Aupōuri Forest for $37.7million. 

Having lost the bid to secure the Aupōuri forest, NORFED next turned our attention to the pending NPL mill sale with one question in mind – how could we still fulfil our vision?

More on that next week.

THE VISION UNFOLDS

In 1975, partly to fulfil the vision he shared with the Northern Federation of Māori Trusts & Incorporations [NORFED], Keith Hunt established Northern Pulp Ltd [NPL] which then supported a huge planting programme on NORFED lands stretching from Te Hapua in the north to Mitimiti in the south.  This was followed in the mid-1980s with the building of the NPL Triboard mill at the northern end of Kaitāia; by 1987 it was in production.  

In that same year, Pētia Welsh, the architect of NORFED, asked my employers [Parengarenga Incorporation] to let me work with him, which they did. 

The first thing that Pētia made clear to me was that, because the NORFED forests were not yet ready for production, the JNL mill was totally dependent on timber from the Aupōuri State forest, which was then being run by the Forest Service.  The fates of the mill, the Aupōuri forest and the NORFED forests, he explained, were intrinsically linked.

He also explained that, while the plans of NORFED and NPL had unfolded well with the planting of our forests and the commissioning of the mill, we were seeing the end of what he called the “post-war era of prosperity”, and hard times lay ahead for us all.  I had no idea what he meant but was soon to find out.

Characterised by government spending to stimulate and maintain economic growth, strong union protection of workers’ rights, and artificially low costs of living, the post-war era had survived the 1960s’ counter-culture and the 1970s oil shocks.  But it was now being hit by an economic neoliberalism in which the market had become God, and the ‘trickle-down’ theory held sway. 

What had started in Britain with Thatcherism, emerged in New Zealand as Rogernomics, named after then Minister of Finance, Roger Douglas.  Under Pētia’s tutelage, I learned and understood that, while the policies of Rogernomics were staged, their impact was immediate.

The first stage was corporatisation in which state industries were broken up and replaced by commercial Corporates and non-commercial Departments.  In 1987, the Forest Service was replaced by the Department of Conservation which took over management of native forests, and Forest Corp which took over the exotic forest commercial logging operations.  Overnight, more than 130 local households lost their main source of income.

The second stage was privatisation.  In 1990, all of Forest Corp’s logging operations and some of the lands were sold or leased as Crown Forest licences to private companies.  That included the Aupouri forest which was sold in December 1990 to a Japanese company, now known as Juken New Zealand Ltd (JNL).

At the same time that the government was preparing to privatise its logging operations, news broke that the entire Equiticorp Group, including the NPL mill, had been placed into statutory management.  By 1991, the mill had also been sold to JNL and the NORFED vision was unravelling.

Next week I will write more about NORFED’s response to the forest and mill sales.