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.

HOW AND WHY THE JNL MILLS CAME TO BE IN KAITAIA

Every day, hundreds of workers clock in and out of the JNL mills here in Kaitāia as they operate around the clock.  Have you ever wondered how and why those mills came to be here?  Pull up a chair and let me tell you what I know.

In 1970, Petia (Bill) Welsh of Tao Maui (Te Rarawa) and Te Uri o Tai (Rarawa / Aupouri) hapū retired from a long career in the forestry industry.

He had started before World War II as a trainee saw doctor at Kaitāia Timber Mill working under the management of Garth Beatson and others. Forty years later, he completed his career as a senior manager and the Pacific troubleshooter for Fletchers International.

When he retired, Petia came home with a simple clear message which he shared with Māori land owners mai Te Rerenga Wairua ki Hokianga Hakapau Karakia – i.e. If not THE economic mainstay of Te Hiku o Te Ika in the future, forestry is going to be a major player, and there is money to be made by Māori from it – BUT NOT IN SIMPLY LEASING LAND IN EXHANGE FOR AN ANNUAL PEPPERCORN RENTAL AND A LOW STUMPAGE AT THE END OF THE LEASE.

INSTEAD, he said, THE REAL REVENUE IS TO BE FOUND IN BEING PART OF THE VALUE CHAIN, RIGHT FROM OWNING THE LAND IN WHICH THE TREES GROW, THROUGH TO MILLING, FINISHING AND SELLING THE TIMBER AND OTHER END PRODUCTS THAT COME FROM THE TREES.

To that end, Petia convinced the Trustees and owners of six of the largest Māori landholdings in Te Hiku o Te Ika to set up the Northland Federation of Māori Land Trusts and Incorporations [NORFED for short].

The original members were Te Puna Toopu o Hokianga Trust in Mitimiti, Panguru-Motuti Forest Trust, Tapuwae Incorporation, Epikauri Forest Trust at Herekino, Parengarenga B3 Trust in Te Kao, and Te Hapua 42 Incorporation (later to become Muriwhenua Incorporation).

These NORFED members then agreed to advertise their combined land holdings as being open for tender to those who met the following conditions:

• A fair annual rental for use of the lands, to be divided on a pro rata basis amongst the land owners.
• A commitment to build a manufacturing plant in the region capable of producing a range of wood products from the timber grown on NORFED members’ lands.
• A commitment to reserve a 15% shareholding in the plant for NORFED members to take up within a set period.
• A commitment to train and employ a local workforce from amongst NORFED’s people.

It was a bold and visionary plan, and when the tender process was completed, NORFED had found an equally bold and visionary partner in the shape of Keith Hunt and the recently invented product, Triboard.

Next week I will share how the vision unfolded.

FRAGILE SILENCE

It’s the day after Waitangi Day, 1978.  I report for afternoon duty and join the handover meeting.  There are six of us in the room.  I am the only non-white.  The Charge Nurse’s first words are to me: “Like, I’m not racist, but did you see what those idiots did at Waitangi?”

I know where this is headed but I engage anyway.

“I did.  What kind of idiots try to barge through a crowd when they could easily have gone around?” 

“I meant those Mowree idiots who threw eggs at the Governor-General!” 

“Seems tame in comparison to what gets thrown in Ireland.” 

“You’re just lucky you lot didn’t get colonised by the Spanish!” 

“Lucky, like the Irish?”

“What do you Mowrees want?”

“I can’t speak for anyone else, but what this Māori wants is to know how my patients are before I start work.” 

She stands and leaves the room without completing the handover.  I look at my colleagues who all avoid my gaze and my company for the rest of the shift. 

Later that night I ponder the total inappropriateness of the Charge Nurse and the utter gutlessness of my colleagues.  I realise that I had been expected to show more sensitivity to their sensitivity to the “r” words.    

“White Fragility” is a term first coined by Dr Robin DiAngelo to describe the defensive moves that white people make when challenged racially, particularly about “white privilege”. These include emotions such as anger, fear, guilt; and behaviours including argumentation, recentering, distancing, silencing. 

While the average person of colour has spent years developing a thick skin when it comes to systemic racism, the average white person can go through most of their formative years without ever having to think about race.  So even just hearing an “r” word can be traumatic and create a negative environment for them.

Recently, a satirical group devised a simple system to help people of colour to foster a non-hostile environment for our fragile white friends and co-workers.  Apparently, all we have to do is – Stop, Ignore, Listen, Empathise, Never Complain, and Eat. 

They only came up with this SILENCE system last year, so it wasn’t around to help me back in 1978.  But if it had been, then this is how the handover meeting might have played out.

CHARGE NURSE:  Like, I’m not racist ...  [Stop and say nothing] … but did you see what those idiots did at Waitangi?  [Ignore and say nothing] … I meant those Mowree idiots who threw eggs at the Governor-General!  [Listen, but say nothing] … You’re just lucky you lot didn’t get colonised by the Spanish!  [Empathise, either with a nod or a statement of agreement] … What do you Mowrees want? [Eat].

Unfortunately, I must interrupt this satirical SILENCE to confirm that not ALL white people are racist, even though they are all privileged by systemic racism.  Oh, the fragility. 

THE PORTRAIT

On January 3^rd, Ngāti Kahu: Portrait of a Sovereign Nation was launched on Te Paatu Marae in Pamāpuria, just south of Kaitāia.  This is an abridged review of it by Paul Moenboyd (Te Aupōuri, Ngāti Pāoa, Te Ātiawa).

“The summit of Rangikāpiti Pā in the Far North town of Mangōnui overlooks the wide expanse of Tokerau Moana (dubbed Doubtless Bay by a quickly convinced Cook) and a vast swathe of Ngāti Kahu’s rohe (territory). Similarly, Ngāti Kahu, Portrait of a Sovereign Nation, sure to become an equally imposing landmark on the northern landscape, is a sweeping overview of this iwi’s physical and emotional topography – its memories and heartaches, struggles and victories.

“Just as Ngāti Kahu draws its strength from its many different hapū, so the Portrait is made richer by its wide range of sources. These include irreplaceable oral histories gathered by the project’s historians, documentary evidence of wrongful land purchases, maps, quotations from an extensive bibliography of other works, excerpts from letters, and testimonies .... Each of these constituent parts come together to trace a remarkable hakapapa of resistance.

“True to its title, the Portrait is a nation building exercise. In scope and reach, covering the long haerenga (journey) from distant beginnings to the challenges of the present … illustrating events with first-hand experience and steeped in Ngāti Kahu’s understanding of itself and its place in the world, this work is a pou (a marking post), carved with pepehā (identifying sayings) and hakataukī (proverbs), and kōrero o mua (traditions).

“… The Portrait immerses the reader in this iwi’s worldview with a concise yet complete introduction to its stories of origin and to its unique understanding of principles such as mana, tikanga and rangatiratanga.

“The Portrait does not overlook the heke (rafters) that sustain the roof, the hapū that form Ngāti Kahu. The inhabitants of kāinga (settlements) nestled in valleys or dotted along the coast all have their time on the paepae (speakers bench). With the deep love of place that comes from generations of continuous occupation, stories of back country rivers and hills and the riches within are told, as only those who have kept the ahi kā (home fires) burning for so long can.

“… In a tone which would be bemused exasperation if not for the injustices that followed, the Portrait observes the difficulties of the first Pākehā in “living according to the laws of this land”. Despite its dispossession, Ngāti Kahu tells of the arrival of these guests not with anger, but with sadness at how the generous hospitality that was shown to the new arrivals was repaid.

“Treaty settlements are generally accompanied by a Deed of Settlement, which sets out an official version of events and of the injustices that are partially remedied. In the absence of an agreed path towards settlement with government, Ngāti Kahu’s Portrait pre-empts this and presents its truth on its own terms ...

“This Portrait is more than a testimony to Ngāti Kahu’s tenacious struggle to hold on to its home, it is also a defiant cry of independence, identity and love for the people and land, founded in a deep awareness of the past and hope for the future. It is a rewarding read for anyone with an interest in history, identity, and how memory shapes not only our sense of self, [but also] the landscape we live in and the way we imagine our future.”

Published by Huia, the Portrait is available in bookshops nationwide.

TE HONONGA - THE CONNECTION

Visitors to Te Ahu Centre in Kaitāia enter a circular atrium bounded by seven Poupou (carved pillars) representing seven nations; Ngāti Kuri, Te Aupōuri, Ngāi Takoto, Te Rarawa, Ngāti Kahu, Pākehā and Tarara.  Each Pou has its own name and kōrero.  The name of our Pou is Te Hononga o Ngāti Kahu, and this is the kōrero.

The central figures in the top section are our Tūpuna Whaea (ancestress) Kahutianui, her husband Te Parata, and their daughter Māmangi.  The patterns above them represent Mau-o-ngā-Taniwha, the mountain range where many of their Kai Tiaki (guardians) live; the Ruru (owl), the Kaahu (hawk) and the Taniwha (powerful spirit creatures).  Maungataniwha marks our Whanaungatanga (relationship) with Ngāpuhi and Ngāti Kahu ki Whaingaroa.   Behind Kahutianui, Te Wheke (the guardian octopus) wraps a protective Paapaaringa (tentacle), anchoring her to the Moana (ocean) and the Whenua (land).  Te Parata protects her left with a Hoeroa Tohora (an ancient whalebone throwing weapon), and Māmangi protects her right with the Hoe Urungi (steering paddle) which holds Mana (power and authority) and represents both a weapon and steerage into the future.  Alongside hangs Te Kete Tuatea (the basket of light and of current knowledge) woven in Tāniko.  In this section we see our history as Kai Tiaki and the need to maintain this role in the face of changing circumstances.

Central to the middle section are the Tara (female genitalia) and Ure (male genitalia) representing our Hakapapa (who we are and where we come from).  This section also contains the Mana of the many Waka (traditional voyaging canoes) represented by the Aukaha (rope lashings) that connect Ngāti Kahu to other Iwi throughout the Motu (country) as well as to the peoples of Te Moana-nui-ā Kiwa (the Pacific Ocean).  Our main waka, Māmaru, was readzed from the waka Tinana which had been captained by Tūmoana, the father of Kahutianui.  It strengthens our connection to Te Rarawa.  The paua Paatu (portals) on either side describe our conscious movement between Te Ao Wairua (the realm of spirit) and Te Ao Mārama (the physical world) as part of life’s journey.  Between them hangs Te Kete Tuauri (the basket of darkness and knowledge yet to be revealed) woven from Pingao (sedge), Kiekie (epiphyte) and Muka (flax fibre).  Tikanga was developed by our Tūpuna to give us life and guide us in our relationships.  In this section we see that, just as the Waka Tinana was readzed for another life-giving mission, so too is Tikanga open to informed debate to fit changing circumstances. 

The bottom section commences with Te Kete Aronui (the basket of knowledge currently being sought by humans) woven from Kiekie and Pingao.  It hangs above Rangi (the sky), Moana (the sea), Motu (the islands off our coast) and Tangaroa (god of the oceans). Below them swim the Pākaurua (stingray) denoting our allies, and the Pioke (ground shark) of Rangaunu harbour denoting our connection to Ngāi Takoto.  The eight Paapaaringa of Te Wheke emerge, some in the form of Manaia (spirit beings), to touch significant sites in our Rohe (territory); Hukatere, connecting us to Ngāti Kuri in the north; Whatu (Berghans Pt) on the east; Rangiāniwaniwa in the centre; Maungataniwha in the south; Takahue, Ngākohu, Kaitāia and Te Oneroa-ā-Tohe (90 Mile Beach) on the west.  Peeking between the Manaia is the Tāmure (snapper) inviting us to play and engage with each other.  These striking images remind us that our Rangatiratanga (the right to exercise power and authority) can never be set by others, but only by us through utilising our life-giving Tikanga and maintaining our life-sustaining Kaitiakitanga in all circumstances.   

This kōrero came from our hapū at numerous hui, interviews and wānanga.  We thank all those involved in transforming our kōrero into the design, concept and execution of our  Poupou; most especially Paul Marshall-Slade (Tohunga Hakairo o Ngāti Kahu), Bonnie Kerapa (Kai Hakairo o Ngāpuhi me Tainui), Nina Raharuhi (Kai Raranga o Haiti-tai-marangai Marae) and Clare Stensness (Kai Raranga o Karepōnia Marae).