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IN NEW ZEALAND
Edited by Malcolm Mulholland
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
people but there is no reason to pretend they did not
happen. It is about being brave and facing our colourful
history as a nation. By understanding the past we are better
able to build a solid foundation for the future and to plot a
pathway forward which is both informed and inclusive.
ISBN 978-0-473-44931-5
TE PŪTAKE
IN NEW ZEALAND
Edited by Malcolm Mulholland
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
people but there is no reason to pretend they did not
happen. It is about being brave and facing our colourful
history as a nation. By understanding the past we are better
able to build a solid foundation for the future and to plot a
pathway forward which is both informed and inclusive.
ISBN 978-0-473-44931-5
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
WARS AND CONFLICTS IN NEW ZEALAND
ISBN 978-0-473-44931-5
Published by Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi
Publication Date 09/2018
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
Malcolm Mulholland . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
CHAPTER 1
WAR AND CONFLICT
Sir Harawira Gardiner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
CHAPTER 2
WHAKAMAUMAHARA ME TE WAREWARE:
REMEMBERING AND FORGETTING
THE TARANAKI WAR
Kelvin Day . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
CHAPTER 3
HE TINO PAKANGA NUI NO NIU TIRENI
THE ‘GREAT WAR FOR NEW ZEALAND’
IN MEMORY AND HISTORY
Vincent O’Malley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
CHAPTER 4
THE WHANGANUI EXPERIENCE RESISTANCE
AND COLLABORATION ARE VALID FORMS
OF SURVIVAL
Che Wilson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
CHAPTER 5
PUKEHINAHINA (GATE PĀ)
Buddy Mikaere . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .95
CHAPTER 6
A NGĀTI AWA EXPERIENCE
Layne Harvey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
CHAPTER 7
TE RIRI A TE KOOTI MAUMAHARA
Haare Williams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
CHAPTER 8
REMEMBRANCE, DENIAL AND THE
NEW ZEALAND WARS:
THE ROAD TO RĀ MAUMAHARA
Joanna Kidman and Vincent O’Malley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
CHAPTER 9
TE KAPEHU O TUMATAUENGA
WAY FINDING AS A MEANS OF
REMBERING THE PAST
Harawira Pearless . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
PROFILES OF THE CONTRIBUTORS
MALCOLM MULHOLLAND
Ngāti Kahungunu, Rangitaane.
Malcolm Mulholland has edited or co-edited seven publications that focus
on Māori development, has co-authored Marae: The Heart of Māori Culture
(Huia, 2015) and Māori Carving: The Art of Recording Māori History (Huia,
2015) and authored Beneath the Maori Moon: An Illustrated History of Māori
Rugby (Huia, 2009). Mulholland is currently a Senior Researcher at Te
Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi.
KELVIN DAY
Kelvin Day is Manager of Puke Ariki, New Plymouth. He completed an
MA (Hons) in Anthropology at Auckland University in 1983. Since then
he has worked in several New Zealand museums and published a number
of articles on archaeological and museum collection related topics. He
has also written a book, Māori Wood Carving of the Taranaki Region (Raupo
Publishing, 2001) and edited a volume of essays, Contested Ground Te
Whenua I Tohea: The Taranaki Wars 1860-1881 (Huia, 2010).
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
VINCENT OMALLEY
Dr Vincent O’Malley is a professional historian and founding partner of
HistoryWorks, a Wellington consultancy specialising in Treaty of Waitangi
research. He has published widely on New Zealand history including The
Great War for New Zealand: Waikato 1800-2000 (Bridget Williams Books,
2016), completed in part during his 2014 tenure as J D Stout Fellow at
Victoria University of Wellington.
CHE WILSON
Ngāti Rangi, Te Atihaunui-a-Paparangi.
Che Wilson has held a number of roles involving the environment and
tribal leadership. These include being a member of the Māori Advisory
Board for Geological Nuclear Science, the Māori Heritage Council, Deputy
Chief Executive for the Ministry for the Environment and an Environmental
Court Commissioner. He has also been the Chief Negotiator for Ngāti
Rangi and was recently elected as the Co-President of the Māori Party.
BUDDY MIKAERE
Ngāti Pukenga, Ngāti Ranginui.
Buddy Mikaere is a historian and consultant. In 1990 Mikaere was
appointed Director of the Waitangi Tribunal and was responsible for the
research programmes that investigated raupatu claims, as well as overseeing
the amalgamation of claims. Mikaere is also a published author having
written Te Maiharoa and the Promised Land (Heinemann, 1988) and
Maori in Aotearoa New Zealand: Understanding the Culture, Protocols and
Customs (New Holland Publishers, 2013).
PROFILES OF THE CONTRIBUTORS CONTINUED
LAYNE HARVEY
Ngāti Awa, Rongowhakaata, Te Aitanga a Māhaki, Te Whānau a Apanui, Ngāti
Kahungunu
Judge Layne Harvey was appointed to the Māori Land Court in 2002.
Based in Rotorua, he is the resident Judge for both the Aotea and Tākitimu
Districts of the Māori Land Court. Judge Harvey has also been a trustee of
Māori land trusts, Iwi authorities and Māori reservations and has been a
member of the Council for Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi since 1997.
HAARE WILLIAMS
Ngāi Tuhoe, Te Aitanga-a-Māhaki.
Haare Williams is a veteran broadcaster, poet and artist. Raised at Karaka
between Ohiwa and Kutarere, Williams was raised by his grandparents and
exposed to the waiata of Te Kooti and Ringatū writings from a young age.
In 2018, Williams became a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for
his services to Māori, the arts and education.
TE PŪTAKE O TE RIRI
JOANNA KIDMAN
Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Raukawa
Joanna Kidman works in the field of indigenous youth sociology at Victoria
University of Wellington where she is Kaihautū of Te Kura Māori in the
Faculty of Education. Her research centres on the politics of indigeneity
and settler-colonial nationhood. Over the past twenty years Joanna has
worked with Māori research partners and community-based tribal groups in
different parts of New Zealand.
HARAWIRA PEARLESS
Ngāti Tū-mata-uenga
The dissertation of Harawira Pearless, Moenga Toto Te Whenua, adopted
a series of eclectic way finding methods to geographically and physically
relocate a series of 28th Māori Battalion battle grounds and burial sites with
the intention of reopening previously unknown remembrance pathways. He
is currently writing the official history of the D Company of the 28th Māori
Battalion.
Malcolm Mulholland
INTRODUCTION
MALCOLM MULHOLLAND
Each presenter was asked to address two questions; “What has been done
in the past to commemorate the New Zealand Wars?” and “How should
we commemorate the New Zealand Wars today?” The common response
was deafening; historically Pākehā New Zealand commemorated (and in
some cases ‘celebrated’) previous battles with little or no Māori input while
Māori remembered the events of the 1860s in our own culturally unique
way such as the naming of wharenui or the composition of waiata and
haka. With regard to why we should commemorate the wars today, again
a shared response was found; that in order to appreciate the position of
Māori today, one has to have a deeper understanding of the conflict that
devastated Māori communities in the mid-19th century.
The previous year, the same students visited the sites of Ōrākau and Rangiaowhia,
following the initiative of their teachers. The pupils were exposed to the histories
of those locales from local kuia and kaumātua and as petitioner and pupil, Leah
Campbell, would remark “…there were massacres [committed] only half an hour
from where you live, not that long ago.2”
The petition was heard by the Māori Affairs Select Committee.3 During the
hearing, the Government announced that a ‘Raa Maumahara National Day of
Commemoration’ would be held every year on October 28th (the anniversary of
the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1835) and that the inaugural
commemorative day would be held in Tai Tokerau in 2017 with the intention
of shifting the venue each year to highlight battles that took place around the
country.4 The Government also announced a fund of $4 million dollars to be
distributed over a period of four years, to help communities commemorate the New
Zealand Wars.5 The Māori Affairs Select Committee in their report congratulated
the Government for their support of the petition and supported the Crown-Iwi
partnership that would oversee the development of the recognition, teaching and
curriculum development associated with Raa Maumahara.6
The report also noted that it supported the notion of ‘Raa Maumahara’ as a day
of commemoration, after having sought the advice of Treasury that a public holiday
would cost somewhere in the vicinity of $220 and $280 million.7 Other alternatives
were explored including replacing a current public holiday or establishing regional
observation days. Of the suggestion to replace a public holiday 8 it was noted
by this author that of the eleven public holidays in New Zealand, only Waitangi
Day focuses upon the country’s bicultural past.9 An Act of Parliament to mark
Matariki as a public holiday was defeated in 2009 when it was introduced by the
In the United States of America, the President has the ability to issue a declaration
of selected public observances, either as designated by Congress or by his/her
own discretion.14 These days are not public holidays but rather days that can
be observed with appropriate ceremonies and activities. Observance days are
typically created to honour or commemorate a social cause, an ethnic group, an
historic event, or an individual. There are over fifty such days and the following
table provides examples of American observance days.
NAME OF
DATE PURPOSE
OBSERVANCE DAY
16th of January Religious Freedom Day Religious Freedom
Day commemorates
the Virginia General
Assembly’s adoption
of Thomas Jefferson’s
landmark Virginia Statute
for Religious Freedom on
January 16, 1786.
15th of February Susan B. Anthony Day Susan B. Anthony Day
celebrates the birthday
of Anthony, a women’s
suffrage leader.
2nd Thursday in D.A.R.E. Day Drug Abuse Resistance
April Education (D.A.R.E.) is an
international substance
abuse prevention
education programme
that seeks to prevent
use of controlled drugs,
membership in gangs, and
violent behaviour.
19th of May Malcolm X Day Malcolm X Day is held on
the birthday of the Civil
Rights Leader Malcolm X.
3rd Sunday in June Father’s Day A celebration that honours
fathers.
26th of August Women’s Equality Day Commemorates women
being given the right to
vote.
17th of September Constitution or Recognising the day
Citizenship Day the Declaration of
Independence was signed
in 1787.
1st Monday of Child Health Day The Day invites all agencies
October interested in child welfare
to unite to develop the
health of the children of
the United States.
In applying such a concept to the New Zealand calendar, there are some obvious
days that we currently ‘observe’ although they are not written into law. The table
below are days that we observe in New Zealand.
To borrow from the calendar of the United States of America, New Zealand
regional observance days could be days that are acknowledged but are not public
holidays, that are significant to a region and can be named by regional authorities
which, in turn, present themselves as opportunities for local communities to
organise local events and therefore commemorate dates of historical significance.
For example, Ngāti Awa may choose to commemorate the New Zealand Wars on
the anniversary of the Battle of Te Kupenga on October the 20th every year and the
date can become significant to the local community by it being named ‘Te Kupenga
Day’ for the Bay of Plenty. Potential dates to commemorate significant battles or
events connected to the New Zealand Wars are provided in the following table.
CONFLICT
DATE REGION
COMMEMORATED
11th January Ruapekapeka Northland
31st March Ōrākau Waikato
29th April Pukehinahina Tauranga
14th May Moutoa Whanganui
17th June Wairau Te Tau Ihu
18th June Opening of Great South Road Auckland
6th August Battle Hill Wellington
4th October Te Pōrere Taupō
12th October Ōmarunui Hawkes Bay
20th October Te Kupenga Bay of Plenty
5th November Parihaka Taranaki
3rd December Ngatapa East Coast
The application of observance days in New Zealand need not be limited to only
the New Zealand Wars. For example, at a national level the following observance
days could be acknowledged.
Chapter Two is penned by Kelvin Day on the subject of the Taranaki Wars.
Day selected three battles that took place and their subsequent commemorations:
The Battle of Waireka, Te Ngutu o te Manu, and Parihaka. Commemorations that
took place at the turn of the twentieth century involved culturally-inappropriate
picnics with Pākehā veterans in attendance, with the occasions emphasising the
participation of British troops and their heroic efforts rather than the valiant
and intrepid moves made by Māori to protect their lands in the face of superior
technology and adversaries that outnumbered them significantly.
In stark contrast to the earlier commemorations of the New Zealand Wars, Day
notes that the centenary commemorations of the invasion of Parihaka in 1981
were Māori-led with five thousand people in attendance. The commemoration of
Parihaka in 1981 reflected the slowly- changing attitude of a wider New Zealand
society towards Māori rights as a result of the Māori activism of the 1970s. Events
such as the Māori Land March (1975), the occupations of the Raglan Golf Course
(1975-1978) and Bastion Point (1977-1978) and the consciousness that was raised
as a result of protests organised by Ngā Tamatoa, all contributed towards a growing
awareness of injustices that had been committed against Māori.
By the time the site of Te Ngutu o te Manu was returned to Ngāruahine as part of
their 2015 settlement with the Crown, again many advancements had taken place
in New Zealand society concerning Māori rights; the Waitangi Tribunal process
had heard multiple historical grievances and the New Zealand Government had
made numerous settlements with Iwi across the country; te reo Māori had been
recognised as an official language of New Zealand and Māori Television had been
established, and the Māori economy was valued at $50 billion as of 2017.18
O’Malley’s account of how the Waikato Wars have been commemorated in the
past are similar to that of Day’s analysis of the remembrances of the battles that
took place in Taranaki. The commemorations from the turn of the twentieth
century to the 1960s was a Pākehā affair while Waikato Māori petitioned successive
Governments to have their grievances heard. During this time, the country and
majority of Pākehā portrayed New Zealand as having the best race relations in the
world. Publications such as the cartoon book ‘The Half-Gallon Jar’.21 penned by
‘Hori’ (a pseudonym for the Pākehā writer W. Norman McCallum) entertained
older Pākehā audiences with stereotypical stories regarding Māori, while younger
generations were being taught from the textbook ‘Our Country’s Story’ that stated
that New Zealand enjoys the world’s greatest race relations.22
During the 1970s, the narrative changed from the New Zealand Wars being a
‘noble’ affair to that of a land-grab as articulated by James Belich in his authoritative
work “The New Zealand Wars”23 that was published in 1986. Belich was not the
first Pākehā historian to advocate for a greater and more accurate awareness of the
New Zealand Wars. James Cowan, the author of the first comprehensive history
of the conflict in his two-volume series commissioned by the Government during
the 1920’s, did his best to advocate for the better protection of historic battle sites
despite a motorway dividing the Pā of Rangiriri in two during the 1960s.
Te Keepa Te Rangihiwinui (Major Kemp) led the Kūpapa troops and Matene
Rangitauira led the Hauhau contingent. The two opposing rangatira had agreed
to meet at Moutoa Island by the small Whanganui River settlement of Rānana.
Wilson, who can trace his ancestry directly from both rangatira, recalled the battle
as the day the river ran red with blood and when cousins killed cousins. The event
was memorialised with a flag and a kaioraora, a derogatory chant. Following the
battles, peace accords were struck and remembered in a uniquely Māori fashion
with the naming of wharenui.
The trend of naming wharenui in the name of peace continued when Te Kooti
opened several wharepuni in the region within fifteen years of being hunted by
some of the people of Whanganui. In more recent years, kaumatua Mark Grey
handed back land near Waverley, as a gesture of peace and goodwill as the land
had initially been given to Whanganui as a result of their loyalty to the Crown.
Nowadays the history of internal conflict in Whanganui is taught on an annual
basis to those who attend the annual Te Tira Hoe Waka.
Buddy Mikaere in Chapter Five on Gate Pā, and supported by O’Malley in his
chapter, highlights that a significantly large number of troops were provided by
the British Empire to fight Māori during the New Zealand War. Gate Pā, otherwise
known as Pukehinahina, was the worst loss suffered by an imperial force during
that era. Apart from India, New Zealand accounted for the largest number of British
Troops stationed anywhere in the world. It is forgotten by many that during this
period New Zealand was very much the ‘naughty child of the Empire’ with George
Grey in his second term as Governor of New Zealand defying orders to have the
British troops depart New Zealand shores and for the colony to take responsibility
(and the cost) of fighting Māori. The situation deteriorated to the point where
Grey’s appointment was terminated in 1868.
The actions of Grey and the burgeoning cost of warfare in the far-flung corners
of the Empire harken the need to analyse the New Zealand Wars within the wider
The sesquicentenary of the Battle of Gate Pā in 2014 was a major event for
Tauranga Moana and the community of Tauranga. It serves as an illustration of
what can be achieved for the benefit of the whole community when commemorating
a significant event of the New Zealand Wars. As is often the case with former Pā
sites, a motorway dissects the site. Yet Gate Pā was revamped, as best it could be,
in anticipation of the anniversary. Local businesses were contracted to carry out
the restoration that included increased accessibility and pou being erected. For
the day itself, one hundred Gate Pā flags were recreated, cannons, coehorns and
tupara (double-barrelled shotguns designed in Italy) were also on display. A one-
thousand strong haka was performed, along with items from the New Zealand Army
Band and a string quartet reciting songs from the era. Other activities associated
with the anniversary included art and poetry competitions.
The mantra of the organising committee was to include the local community
in all of the events associated with the sesquicentenary, an aim that contributed
significantly to the success of the day.
The crossing of armed troops over the Mangatāwhiri Stream would lead to a
succession of shattering conflicts that resulted in a loss of life, land and resources.
Ngāti Awa continued to pursue redress from the Crown following the acts of
1865 and 1866 and the pursuit of justice, as was the case with other Iwi, would
become the way in which Ngāti Awa would commemorate their participation in
the New Zealand Wars.
First came the Compensation Court Hearings to determine who owned what
land and/or who was unjustly treated with the raupatu imposed upon Ngāti Awa.
In much the same way the disposal of the bodies of the Ngāti Awa men who were
executed by the Crown was to further insult the Iwi, the wharenui Mataatua and
Hotunui found themselves in museums and were altered in a way not envisaged
by their original designers. The Native Land Court documented the conflict of the
1860s, as did numerous petitions and the hearings of the Sim Commission of 1927.
The place of religion is central to the beliefs and actions of Te Kooti. This is the
tragedy of the story of Te Kooti; that despite being held on unsubstantiated charges
and detained on an island six hundred and fifty kilometres from New Zealand at
the closest point, Te Kooti was not opposed to law or to the Government. And
although he was pursued through the central North Island by the Government for
the best part of five years, he declared peace with the Pākehā forever at his pardon
at Otewa in 1883. The lesson here is that arguably the most maligned Māori figure
of the New Zealand Wars was able to reconcile his feelings towards a people who
had hunted him in the hope of killing him.
Overall, three quarters of submissions to the petition opposed the aims stipulated
in the document.24 In the main, those who opposed the petition believe that New
Zealand’s history has been re-written through the Treaty settlement process, label
those who advocate for Māori rights ‘activists’, ‘radicals’ and ‘troublemakers’,
and that changes in society that uphold Māori rights lead to widespread ‘unrest’.
They follow arguments promoted by ‘anti-treatyists’ who have found their voice
as a result of Don Brash’s infamous Orewa Speech in 2004. They believe in ‘One
Nation’, they are regularly confused between the ‘Musket Wars’ and the ‘New
Zealand Wars’, and they constantly reference Māori cannibalism as being a reason
There is one final observation that can be made once reviewing all of the chapters
contained in this publication. All contributors stress that more needs to be done to
educate the public concerning the New Zealand Wars and one such measure that
could go some way to addressing this is the implementation of observance days.
While this publication does not focus on options to educate the public regarding
the New Zealand Wars, the author presented the following option to the Māori
Affairs Select Committee in his briefing paper: 26
Underlying the desire to better educate the public, and perhaps more importantly
future generations about the New Zealand Wars, is the need to appreciate that
the events that took place in the 1860s in New Zealand have defined our identity
and who we are as a nation since and into the future. Most contributors to this
publication lament the dearth of accurate information within the New Zealand
curriculum regarding the New Zealand Wars when they were at school, a trend
that seems destined to continue unless a minimum standard of New Zealand
historical knowledge is defined and required by the Ministry of Education. Again,
as several contributors have written, their interaction with the history of the New
Zealand Wars through the New Zealand education system has been little or none
and what was taught has tended to place the Government forces as heroes pitted
against Māori savages.
The majority of contributors to this publication urge each New Zealand resident
to gain a better understanding of the New Zealand Wars. They do so, so that all
Hopefully this book goes some way to addressing the lack of information and
knowledge about an event that would forever transform New Zealand.
1
https://www.parliament.nz/en/pb/sc/make-a-submission/
document/0SCMA_SCF_51DBHOH_PET68056_1/petition-of-
waimarama-anderson-and-leah-bell
2
Libby Wilson and Rachel Thomas, ‘College students petition for a national
holiday to recognise Land Wars’, http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/
politics/72303304/College-students-petition-for-a-national-holiday-
to-recognise-Land-Wars (accessed 25 October 2016).
3
It should be noted that the author was appointed as a “Specialist Advisor” to
the Maori Affairs Select Committee hearing the petition.
4
https://mch.govt.nz/date-set-commemorate-land-wars
5
Ibid.
6
Report of the Maori Affairs Select Committee of Petition 2014/37 of
Waimarama Anderson and Leah Bell.
7
Ibid, p.8.
8
The most popular suggestion to replace an existing public holiday is that of
the Queen’s Birthday that is held on the first Monday of every June
despite her actual birthday falling on April the 21st.
9
Nine of the country’s public holidays are inherited from the British Empire
and Labour Day was become a public holiday as New Zealand
was the first country in the world to accept an eight-hour working
day. Another suggestion has been to have the New Zealand Wars
commemorated as part of the Anzac Day commemorations. The
wording of the Anzac Day Act 1966 is such that it is highly dubious it
could be extended to account for those who fought during the New
Zealand Wars.
10
https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_
id=1&objectid=10592009
11
New Zealand is one of five remaining Commonwealth countries to
commemorate the Queen’s Birthday. The others are Australia, Papua
New Guinea, Tuvalu and the Solomon Islands.
12
http://www.maoritelevision.com/news/national/call-make-matariki-public-
holiday
The three issues I want to raise are personal reflections. I want to address
the issue of why we commemorate war, of how we commemorate war,
and then discuss the issue of the New Zealand Wars. The reason I want
to contextualise the issues of war and conflict, and why we remember
and how we remember war, is because war is an extraordinarily complex
issue. It is hugely divisive and is potentially destructive. It disrupts entire
societies which implies we have to address these issues within a much
broader scope.
the many other roles he held in society. In this respect, the defence forces are
well ahead of the rest of society. For example, whenever a haka is done the entire
assembly of soldiers are capable of participating. When I was a solider in Malaya
and Vietnam we very seldom had karakia or a haka and to a certain extent Māori
soldiers merged into the mainstream of soldiering. Nowadays, especially in the
younger generations, we see a greater acceptance of tikanga and āhuatanga Māori.
I think that is something that will be reflected upon as we address the issue of
where the New Zealand Wars fit within our history, within our society, and in the
future, how we might deal with that conflict.
Why do we commemorate wars? The first reason is that the victors of conflicts
have a wish to commemorate and celebrate their victory. Perhaps the most
significant battle of the Second World War which paved the way for the landings
in Normandy was the battle for Stalingrad which occurred between June of 1942
and February of 1943. The 75th anniversary of this conflict will be commemorated
by Russia in 2018. It was fought around the City of Stalingrad and nearly two million
soldiers and civilians were killed. If the Battle of Stalingrad had not taken place,
it would have made it much more difficult for the D-Day landings on Normandy.
German reinforcements for the battle included units drawn from the forces facing
the English Channel. The Germans who were killed the Russian Front diminished
the capacity of the German Army to withstand and hold off against the allies in
France, in Italy, and in other places. The Russians see this as the Battle of World
War Two and I agree with them. The second reason we commemorate war is to
remember the sacrifices. In May 2017 I was standing at Sfakia in Crete and a group
of young men and women from Te Whānau ā Apanui and Ngāti Porou performed
a haka in front of the cenotaph to remember their Māori Battalion tūpuna who
were killed in Crete. Through commemorations we remember the brutal fact that
war is about people dying.
The third reason we commemorate war is that we may need to make a virtue
out of military disaster. Politicians, by and large, do not want to admit that due to
In the Phaleron Cemetery in Athens, there is a long list of names of all the
soldiers that were killed. We have to find a way in society to remember them.
People who lose wars generally do not build large monuments. After the First
World War, the Allies, as the victors, erected massive monuments. When Hitler
rose to power he changed the nature of remembering the First World War. As
part of the resurrection of the German people, Hitler built monuments so the
German people could remember the sacrifices of World War One. In this repect
the memory of the humiliation and defeat in WWI was a political weapon used
to rally the Germans to rise once more.
When I was a child we used to wait at Pohaturoa Rock, Whakatāne, for the bus
to take us back to Te Teko. I had never looked at the names on the front of the
bus shelter which listed the Māori soldiers who gave their lives in World War One.
There is a gate at Whakarewarewa that memorialises the names of Wahiao and
Tūhourangi soldiers who died in World War One and added to that are the names
of the soldiers who had died in World War Two. These local monuments speak
directly to the sacrifices of locals who left home to fight in far distant countries.
New Zealand has two national days in which we remember war. The first is
ANZAC Day on April 25th and Remembrance Day on the 11th of November which
signifies the 11th minute of the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of
1918 - the end of World War One. There has been a debate about adding a third day
Another way that Māori commemorate war is through hikoi or travelling in the
footsteps of those tūpuna who fought in wars. In 1972 a group of veterans from
the 28th Māori Battalion were invited to Germany by the German Afrika Corps.
The Afrika Corps fought against the New Zealand Division in North Africa. Soldiers
fight wars and are deployed to wars by politicians. They do not necessarily hate
the enemy but if you do not fight them or shoot them first, they are likely to shoot
you! The German Afrika Corps had an abiding respect for the New Zealand
Division and a particular respect for the 28th Māori Battalion. The Germans knew
that whenever the New Zealand Division was opposite their lines that they could
expect a night attack. Very few, if any of the British or Allied Troops, attacked at
night but the New Zealanders did. As soon as an operation was underway at night
and if the Germans did not know who it was they would say “Those are the New
Zealanders coming at us.”
In 1976 and 1977 about six hundred veterans, families and friends, undertook
an ambitious hikoi across the world. It was quite a remarkable feat because people
had to raise money, had to get leave from work, and had to prepare themselves
When I studied my Master’s Degree in London I knew more about Prince Charles,
the Cavaliers, the Roundheads and Cromwell. My three children always told me
the thing they most regretted when living in England was travelling with me to
go and see a battlefield. I would stand at the bottom of the road and would point
out where the Cavaliers were and how many charges there were.
I knew more about British history than I knew about the New Zealand Wars.
The question is how do we address the dearth of knowledge about what happened
at home? Colonial Governments had no interest in highlighting the fact that they
had actually gone to war to deprive Māori of their land. In recent times New
Zealanders have been ignorant of the wars that happened in our own country
and did not want to know about it. Yet in 1866-1867, ten imperial regiments were
sent to New Zealand and during the 1860s the largest engaged number of imperial
troops were based here in New Zealand; not in India, not in Afghanistan, not in
the many other hotspots of the world but here in Aotearoa. That is why I do not
understand why we do not address our own history.
Of recent times, the Treaty settlement process, the growth of economic power of
Iwi entities and their assertiveness indicate a shifting willingness of Goverments
to take heed of Māori aspirations when in previous generations they might have
ignored them. The successful conduct by Iwi of their own national commemorations
like Te Ranga and Ōrākau and the pressure brought to bear for Government to
recognise and give effect to our shared history has finally borne fruit.
The Government has provided four million dollars to begin the process of
commemorating the New Zealand Wars with a million dollars each year for four
years. The fund is to be divided into half a million dollars for a national event
and the balance of the fund is to be made available for regional commemoration
events. Te Puni Kōkiri is the agency responsible for administering the fund. I am
the Chairman of the Te Pūtake o te Riri/Wars and Conflicts in New Zealand Fund
that distributes the money. The Committee consists of two Iwi representatives,
Pita Tipene and Kawhia Te Muraahi, and the two Crown representatives, Michelle
Hippolitte the CEO of Te Puni Kokiri, and Paul James who is the CEO of the
Ministry of Culture and Heritage.
If you go to 42nd Street now you will see a memorial to the 42nd Street Battle
that was built and sponsored by the Australians. If we do not claim the battlefields
that are ours, someone else will take them away. There are certain battles in places
such as Meleme Airfield, 42nd Street, Tabaga Gap, Orsogna, and Monte Cassino,
where New Zealanders played a major role. These are places and where New
Zealanders carved out an epic reputation for soldiering, for courage and bravery.
If we can make that huge investment in World War One, we can make a significant
investment in World War Two.
FIGURES
Fig. 1. New Zealand troops in the trenches, World War I. Royal New Zealand
Returned and Services’ Association :New Zealand official negatives,
World War 1914-1918. Ref: 1/4-009460-G. Alexander Turnbull
Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/22637569
WHAKAMAUMAHARA ME TE
WAREWARE: REMEMBERING AND
FORGETTING THE TARANAKI WAR
KELVIN DAY
INTRODUCTION
BATTLE OF WAIREKA
Following several hours of firing, ammunition on both sides was low. Murray
then made a call which resulted in him receiving severe criticism, which was,
according to orders he had been given, to march his men back to New Plymouth
about 5.30pm. Returning to New Plymouth they were passed by Captain Cracroft
of the HMS Niger with 60 of his men on the way out to the battle. It was then left
to Cracroft’s men to storm Kaipopo, resulting in a number of Māori being killed,
including three prominent chiefs.3 Cracroft’s men did not contact the marooned
settlers or militia before returning to New Plymouth but Māori, hearing the action
at Kaipopo pā, abandoned their positions by the stream which allowed the militia
and settlers to safely return to New Plymouth.
The organising committee decided that the “… survivors of the battle of Waireka
will be invited to form part of the procession and march with their colours.” They
paraded and their names were published in the local press.
The ‘first’ official celebration of the anniversary of the Battle of Waireka was
held on the 29th of March 1897. This was a dinner with veterans and invited
guests “after which several speeches were made and reminiscences given.”5 Over
the following two years nothing further occurred. However, the 40th anniversary
was marked with a veteran’s picnic on the ‘scene of the action’ on 29 March 1900.
New Plymouth businesses were invited to close for the afternoon so that as many
as possible could attend. From the press report it is unclear how many of the
public attended but at least forty-one veterans were present [Fig. 1].
Figure 1. Group of Battle of Waireka veterans assembled for a group photograph, possibly
taken in 1900, in the vicinity of where the battle was fought.
By the time of the centennial in 1960, the New Plymouth Historical Society and
Taranaki Regional Committee of the National Historic Places Trust took the lead
and organised commemorations. In the days leading up to the event accounts
of the Battle of Waireka were published in the local press. On the actual day an
estimated six hundred people were present, including some members of the Māori
community who had been noticeably absent from previous events, along with
military personnel and civic leaders. Interestingly the proceedings were carried
out not on Kaipopo Pā but on the nearby Waireka Redoubt, a Pākehā military site
constructed several months after the Battle of Waireka.
Figure 2. Kaumātua George Koea, representing the Māori people, welcoming visitors on
the occasion of the centennial of the Battle of Waireka, 28 March 1960.
“Because we are today one nation let us not be too self-satisfied, much less self-
righteous. Do not misconstrue these words. We are none of us blameless. We
had our intertribal wars. What you called the Maori wars ought to be renamed
the pakeha wars (not British wars). By the same token what you term ‘rebels’
are our heroes; the ‘murders’, reprisal killing; the ‘victory’ our loss.”10 Cameron’s
words were warmly embraced as part of the centennial and were again quoted at
the Te Ngutu o te Manu centennial commemorations in 1968. Both the 125th
and 150th anniversaries passed without acknowledgement although Waireka did
feature in the 150th Taranaki Wars anniversary exhibition held in 2010 at Puke
Ariki in New Plymouth.11
In the course of surveying the Waimate Plains in the early 1880s, Te Ngutu o te
Manu Reserve was set aside. In February 1884 a Domain Board, comprising of
Pākehā settlers, several of whom had actually been present at the final battle,12 were
charged with administering the fifty-acre (twenty hectares) reserve around “the
disastrous spot ... where Von Tempsky fell in 1868.”13 The plan was for ten acres
(four hectares) to be fenced off and “treated in every respect as a cemetery.”14 The
site was obviously seen as valuable and with special significance, but for whom?
Records of the early discussions of the Board show that the significance was not
about it being the strategic stronghold of a Māori military genius and his warriors,
rather it was the place where the seemingly invincible von Tempsky and others
were killed. The concrete monument that sits on Te Ngutu o te Manu today was
unveiled in April 1886 and is the earliest Taranaki Wars memorial in Taranaki.
Also part of the domain at this time was a somewhat less grand monument,
a cross consisting of “two pieces of fern tree nailed together”15 that was said to
mark the spot where von Tempsky was killed.16 The surveyor, Edwin Brookes,
recorded that he and his men were told of the spot von Tempsky fell by Katene,
one of the warriors present, and that they marked it with a ponga cross within a
small enclosure. Later in 1886 the rātā trees that had sheltered Māori marksmen
and that had been damaged by fire, were falling, and the kāinga site was being
cleared, fenced and ornamental trees planted. Six years later it was noted that that
the “old ratas - monarchs of trees - and white pines, which were witness of Von
Tempsky’s fall, are being wiped out to make room for pines of another country.”18
By the early 1900s, many of the veterans had died and thoughts were turning
to the 40th anniversary. This was celebrated at Te Ngutu o te Manu on the 7th of
September 1908 where seven survivors who had participated in the battle were
present along with the Hon Robert McNab who “was personally introduced [to
the veterans] and examined the medals worn.”21 [Fig. 3]
It was reported that there were between 1500 and 3000 people present but the
reporter “saw but two Maoris - a youth and a boy ... which was rather singular
when it is remembered it was a British defeat and not a British victory that the
pakehas had assembled to commemorate.”22 It was noted that many “tributes were
paid to Von Tempsky’s memory.”23 The main organiser of the commemoration,
the Rev Klingender, stated:
“It is manifest that the settlers of to-day had not forgotten that the peace and
prosperity was due in a great measure to the sacrifice and work of the men whose
memory they were now honouring.” However, the Rev T.G. Hammond, West Coast
Māori Minister, sounded a warning when he said the gathering “… was a mistake,
because it would have a very bad effect upon the Maori people, and would stir
up bitter feelings.”25
There are no records of any commemoration being held for the 50th or 75th
anniversaries. However, the centennial was marked on the 7th of September 1968.
Also commemorated on the same day was the raid on Turuturumōkai Redoubt on
the outskirts of present day Hāwera which was attacked in the early hours of the
12th of July 1868 by warriors sent by Tītokowaru resulting in the death of several
of the men stationed there. A joint committee, made up of respective Domain
Board and Taranaki Branch Committee of the National Historic Trust members,
were charged with managing proceedings for both events. Among the guests at
Te Ngutu o te Manu were more than fifty descendants of the militia and Armed
Constabulary who were present at the battle along with over two-hundred other
guests. They were addressed by Rigby Allan, Director of the Taranaki Museum.
[Fig. 4] This was followed by the planting of two kauri, a tree that is not endemic
He stated that, in 1968, race relations still needed to be worked on. “Let us
continually seek the common ground of our humanity, and our citizenship, let
us learn from one another, let us work for more advances in Maori education, let
us seek more opportunities for Maoris [sic] in more gainful employment.”27[Fig. 5]
The 125th anniversary, in 1993, was not marked in any official way.
Figure 3 — Rigby Allan addressing the crowd assembled for the centennial
commemoration at Te Ngutu o te Manu on 7 September 1968.
PARIHAKA
Parihaka, situated just inland of Cape Egmont, was the centre of a large community
based on passive resistance under the leadership of Te Whiti o Rongomai and
Tohu Kākahi. Actions such as ploughing settler’s fields, pulling survey pegs and
fencing across surveyed roads during the late 1870s in coastal Taranaki, greatly
frustrated the settler Government. This culminated in the invasion of Parihaka by
fifteen hundred military personnel on the 5th of November 1881 when Te Whiti
and Tohu were arrested, women were raped, and taonga were looted. The village
was then dismantled and the people dispersed.
On the 5th of November 1931, a celebratory afternoon tea was held in New
Plymouth to mark the 50th anniversary of the invasion of Parihaka. The local
press reported that forty individuals attended, however only one Māori, Wi Kupe,
was present. Kupe had been arrested at Pungarehu in September 1880 for erecting
The 75th anniversary does not appear to have been marked. By the time the
centennial anniversary came around it was a very different affair. This time Māori
from Parihaka were clearly in the driving seat. Considerable discussion took place
as to what should happen. A suggested ‘re-enactment’ of the 1881 invasion was
quickly dismissed as inappropriate. Leading up to the event a number of buildings
were repaired and painted, including the tomb of Te Whiti. On the weekend of the
centennial over five thousand people
descended on Parihaka, including many
dignitaries and members of Parliament,
a sign of recognition of what was being
commemorated. Interestingly, and
perhaps somewhat tellingly, the local
print media were silent on the speeches
that would have be made. New
Plymouth’s Govett-Brewster Art Gallery
held a major art exhibition in honour
of the event featuring the work of forty-
two artists such as Ralph Hotere, Nigel
Brown, Tony Fomison, Patrick Hanly
and Michael Smither. These works
were subsequently auctioned off and
the money raised was given to the
people of Parihaka. [Fig. 6]
Figure 5 — Cover of the ‘Parihaka Centennial Exhibition & Art Auction’ catalogue.
This review of how three engagements of the Taranaki Wars have been
commemorated shows how their form and function has changed over time.
Initially each commemoration was essentially an opportunity for Pākehā veterans
to come together and celebrate their ‘heroic’ deeds. This is, of course, perfectly
understandable. Historian, Vincent O’Malley notes that such commemorations
“could be seen to reflect a nostalgia for the pioneering period that had passed.”31
A theme which ran through the earlier commemorations was that they were all
initially centred on the veterans. “In observing the anniversary of the Battle of
Waireka, there is no desire whatever to gloat over a victory; the object is merely to
remind present and future generations that if necessity arose they should emulate
the deeds of their forefathers.”32
This is not unexpected given that the drivers for these events were actually the
veterans themselves. The events were decidedly monocultural with no apparent
Māori involvement, not surprising given that there was certainly nothing for Māori
to commemorate given the losses, both in people and resources. The ‘group’
photographs, particularly in relation to Waireka, contained no Māori and, unlike
other regions, no single or group images of Māori veterans were taken at any of
these commemorations.33 However, once the Pākehā veterans had passed away
the frequency and nature of the commemorations understandably changed. And
by the time of the centennials the voice of Māori was beginning to be heard. This
was most notable at the centennial of the 1881 invasion of Parihaka where clearly
the people of Parihaka were in control. There were to be no ‘toasts’ with milk this
time around. While a large number of Pākehā were present and made welcome
the proceedings appear to have been conducted according to tikanga Māori.
In their 1990 publication, ‘The Sorrow and the Pride: New Zealand War
Memorials’, historians Chris Maclean and Jock Phillips say that the period between
1907 and 1920 was a time when “the long generation of apathy and lack of concern
in the New Zealand Wars came to an end.”34 They identified catalysts for this
being events such as the South African War which “helped to infuse the Pakeha
population with a new jingoistic spirit of imperialism.”35 Another compelling
reason was that veterans who participated in the wars were beginning to pass
away in greater numbers. During this 1907 to 1920 period, more than twenty
monuments were erected to the New Zealand Wars in various places around the
country. In Taranaki, as in other areas, some of the initiatives for these came from
In Taranaki, it was the late 1950s to the early 1960s that saw further memorialising.
The driver for this was the Taranaki Regional Committee of the National Historic
Places Trust (later to become the New Zealand Historic Places Trust, now Heritage
New Zealand). Through their efforts a memorial plaque was unveiled on the corner
of Sutton and Waireka Roads on the afternoon of the 6th of November 1958. The
unveiling was attended by a number of dignitaries and interested people, along with
one hundred and ten students from three local schools. It is unclear how many
Māori were present but it is known that a Mr and Mrs Ru Mahutonga each spoke.
“Not much can be done in the time that is left. Had this been a United States
anniversary, the Americans would have used their flair for interpreting history by
re-enactment, spared no expense and taught history as well as proving one of those
spectacles of which they are so fond.” 37 This sentiment was again expressed by
historian James Belich several decades later in his television documentary series
New Zealand Wars.38
Dansey went on to say that Cameron’s address was, “…both admonition and
challenge.”40 That it was received so favourably and reproduced in full in the main
Taranaki newspapers as well as on the souvenir Waireka Centennial programme
suggests that it struck a chord with the general community at that time.
This begs the question – why should we commemorate the Taranaki Wars in the
21st Century? If we are to understand who we are as a nation today then we need
to look back on the past and reflect on how it has shaped us. Many of the issues
that Taranaki is now dealing with are a result of what happened during the Taranaki
Wars. Many of Taranaki’s non-Māori residents are probably still unaware that wars
were fought in the province during the 19th Century. It would, I suspect, come
as a surprise to many that the 1996 Taranaki Waitangi Tribunal report suggested
“that no other Māori group in New Zealand felt the impact of warfare and ongoing
colonial oppression more than the tribes of Taranaki.”41 The Taranaki Wars stripped
Māori of being in control of their own destiny and being economically self-sufficient
which reduced them to a situation which saw them having to rely heavily on the
State and being on the wrong side of the socio-economic ledger.
Many Pākehā settlers lost as well – forced to abandon their farms, watch their
houses burn, stock and crops destroyed, as well as families forced apart and
evacuated from the region. Some of these people never returned, their dreams
shattered. The overcrowding of New Plymouth caused a whole raft of issues,
Over the last eight years or so the way the New Zealand Wars are discussed and
remembered have begun to change again. A number of battle anniversaries have
been marked, particularly in the Waikato and Tauranga regions. In 2014, following
a school visit to the Ōrākau battle site in the Waikato, two Otorohanga College
students were concerned enough about the lack of recognition of the New Zealand
Wars that they started a petition calling for a national day of commemoration. This
quickly gained momentum and was signed by over 13,000 people. This resulted
in a national day being set aside and in March 2018, northern Iwi held a three-
day event to commemorate the Northern War of 1845. At this event Ngāti Hine
rangatira Pita Tipene reminded everyone that the purpose of the commemoration
was to promote greater understanding of the nation’s history, something that was
crucial to developing a national identity. He said “We are no longer a Great Britain
in the south seas. We are our own nation ... we need to hear everyone’s stories and
reconcile what we hear and then move on.” 43
Since 2010 in Taranaki, Te Ātiawa kaumātua Hoani Eriwata has led an annual
commemorative dawn service on the 17th of March. This begins at the Waitara
Military Cemetery and moves onto Te Kohia Pā, the place where the first shots of
the Taranaki Wars occurred on the 17th of March 1860. There is something very
powerful about standing on such sites, where lives have been lost and hearing the
Māori names of those killed in the various battles read out as the sun begins to rise.
Eriwata is clear that the intention of these commemorations is to acknowledge both
sides, hence the inclusion of the Waitara Military Cemetery, and the importance
of continuing the dialogue around the wars. In 2016 the New Plymouth District
Council purchased the parcel of land at Waitara on which Te Kohia sits. That this
site has now been secured opens up important opportunities for Iwi and hapū
to work in partnership with others as to how the site is interpreted and the story
of the wars told.
Recently Heritage Taranaki have developed an app on the First Taranaki War and
are now working on further Taranaki war apps. This is an easy way, using everyday
technology, to tour the landscape and get an understanding of some of the key
events around the Taranaki Wars. It is an important tool in making people aware
of what happened. Remembering the Taranaki Wars, understanding how they
ENDNOTES
1
Crosby argues that the term ‘feud’ “is a European appellation that belittles
the severity of these clashes. It does not convey accurately their
complexity, their long duration, or the number of other iwi who
were drawn into the events.” Ron Crosby, Kūpapa: The Bitter Legacy
of Māori Alliances with the Crown (New Zealand: Penguin Random
House, 2015): 151.
2
Three adults: Samuel Ford, Henry Passmore, and Samuel Shaw; and two
boys: William Parker and James Pote.
3
Paora Kukutai (Taranaki Iwi), Paratene te Kopara (Taranaki Iwi), and Te Rei
Hanataua (Ngāti Ruanui).
4
Taranaki Herald, 17 March 1891.
5
Taranaki Herald, 29 March 1897.
6
Taranaki Herald, 29 March 1902.
7
Taranaki Herald, 29 March 1910.
8
Taranaki Herald, 29 March 1920.
9
Taranaki Herald, 28 March 1960.
10
Taranaki Daily News, 28 March 1960.
11
The exhibition was titled: Te Ahi Kā Roa, Te Ahi Kātoro Taranaki War 1860-
2010 Our Legacy - Our Challenge.
12
The Te Ngutu o te Manu Domain Board was constituted on 26 February
1884 and the members of the Board were: Charles Allen Wray,
Lieutenant Colonel John Mackintosh Roberts, James Livingston,
George Francis Robinson and James Charles Yorke.
13
Wanganui Herald, 20 February 1884.
FIGURES
Fig. 1 William Andrews Collis. Group of Battle of Waireka veterans
assembled for a group photograph, possibly taken in 1900, in the
vicinity of where the battle was fought. Collection: Puke Ariki, New
Plymouth (PHO2002-735).
Fig. 3 Unknown. Rigby Allan addressing the crowd assembled for the
centennial commemoration at Te Ngutu o te Manu on 7 September
1968. Collection: Puke Ariki, New Plymouth (PHO2011-0187).
“When it came to the (time of the) murder at Rangiaohia, then I knew, for the
first time, that this was a great war for New Zealand”
Step forward a century and the nation is in the midst of an extended period
of World War One centennials. There are websites, art exhibitions, plays,
documentaries, dramas, docu-dramas, musical recitals, the opening of a new
national war memorial and books galore – all being funded by the Government,
which set aside $17 million in lottery funding for these purposes.5 Politicians
and members of the public are flocking to the various public acts of remembrance
here and overseas staged in association with these anniversaries, so much so that a
ballot was conducted for admission to the Anzac Day centennial commemoration
at Gallipoli in 2015. 6
The contrast with the 2013-14 sesquicentenary of the Waikato War could not
be greater. When, for example, the 150th anniversary of the battle of Rangiriri
– one of the largest and most significant engagements of the Waikato conflict –
was marked in November 2013, the then Prime Minister was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was the Governor-General. Te Ururoa Flavell was the only Member of
Parliament to attend (according to organisers, John Key was the only other one
to even acknowledge the invitation).7 Key and Jerry Mateparae did attend the
Ōrākau 150th commemoration at the start of April 2014, where the Prime Minister
dismissed calls for a national day of memorial to those who died in the New Zealand
Wars, while not ruling out returning the Ōrākau battle site to public ownership.
He added that most New Zealanders would have known little about the history
of what had taken place there.8 Both the Rangiriri and Ōrākau events received
relatively minimal mainstream media coverage. They probably passed by most
New Zealanders largely unnoticed.
Why does this even matter? Isn’t there something in the common Pākehā refrain
that Māori should just ‘get over it’, or ‘stop living in the past’? Well, by that logic,
the same would apply to World War One commemorations, or indeed to any other
historical events previously considered worthy of remembrance. And as memory
studies scholars have also noted, it is a common argument of those who feel they
have something to hide. It is not consistent with a mature nation facing up to its
past. Remembering does not require guilt or shame, or any other such reaction.
It just requires honesty and a willingness to confront difficult topics. Neil Jarman,
from the Institue for Conflict Research, has argued that “The power of the past,
None of this is to suggest that we should not be marking World War One. Of
course, we should. It is not a zero-sum game. Remembering that conflict does
not, of itself, make us forget the New Zealand Wars. Neither is it a question of
drawing some kind of equivalence between the two wars. The Waikato conflict
was important for its own reasons and in its own ways. It was different from the
kind of ‘total war’ that came to characterise the major conflicts of the twentieth
century. But the almost total neglect of the Waikato War by comparison seems
telling. Organisers of the Rangiriri commemoration expressed disappointment at
the lack of funding for the day, and by the almost total absence of parliamentarians.
Te Ururoa Flavell said he was “a little bit embarrassed that I’m the only MP here
today because people from Parliament should understand about days like this.” 11
And it is not just MPs who apparently need a history lesson. As Tom Roa, the Chair
of the Ngā Pae o Maumahara body that oversaw many of the 150th anniversary
commemorations, noted, “I think we need to give more attention to what happened
on our own doorstep…History informs our present and guides our future.” 12
It was not always this way. As war clouds loomed over Europe, on the 1st of April
1914 a crowd of up to five thousand people gathered at Ōrākau, a few kilometres
up the road from Kihikihi, to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the most famous
battle of the Waikato conflict. Cabinet ministers, MPs, the head of the armed
forces, multiple dignitaries and a small smattering of elderly Māori and Pākehā
Every effort was made to encourage young and old to attend the Ōrākau event
in 1914. An early-morning train from Auckland to Te Awamutu was organised
for the big day, and free rail passes allocated to veterans to allow them to attend.
The Auckland Education Board granted a special holiday to all children attending
schools in the Waikato and Waipā counties. Schools that found it impossible to take
part in the ceremony were instructed to assemble their children, hoist the national
flag and give a lesson on “the difficulties of early settlement in New Zealand.”17
This conception of Ōrākau as somehow noble and heroic was reinforced by the
decision to unveil the monument, which had first been erected in about 1912,
not on the 2nd of April 1914, which would have marked the fiftieth anniversary
of British victory at Ōrākau, but one day earlier, fifty years after the defenders of
Ōrākau, though lacking in food, water and ammunition, had nevertheless vowed
to fight on (there had been ongoing discussions within the Pā as to what to do,
though the famous exchange with William Mair came on the final day).19 As one
newspaper editorial noted, the date had been carefully chosen “to indicate that it
is the heroic defence, and not the capture of the pa, which admirers of the Maori
valour wish to celebrate.” 20 [Fig.1]
Something of that view was reflected in the official jubilee souvenir programme,
which was described as being not merely intended to mark the Ōrākau anniversary,
but also “in commemoration of 50 years of peace.” 21 Newspaper headlines echoed
this view, 22 and although a few observers tried to point out that Ōrākau had not
marked the end of the wars (which continued, in various parts of the central North
Island, through until 1872), they were swimming against the tide.23 Fifty years
of peace it was, at least according to the prevailing narrative. But as the Herald
editorial quoted above suggests, this was no ordinary peace.
To this end, rival European authorities bitterly contested whether it was Rewi
Maniapoto or another chief who had famously responded to the British invitation to
surrender on that final day of the battle, when lacking food and water and assumed
to be totally surrounded, by declaring ‘Ka whawhai tonu matou, ake, ake, ake!’ (‘We
shall fight on, for ever, and ever, and ever!’).25 They argued over the words to be
used on the Ōrākau monument and how best to protect the graves of those who
had fallen in battle there. Rewi Maniapoto’s chivalry had earlier been marked in
a monument erected in April 1894 on the site of his former home in the township
of Kihikihi and paid for by the Government. When the rangatira passed away two
months later, he was buried at the foot of the memorial.26
There was also a monument to British troops killed at Rangiaowhia, Hairini and
Ōrākau and buried in the graveyard at St John’s Church in Te Awamutu. It had
been built at Government expense in 1888. But it was only some decades later
that the Government was asked to consider a second monument at St John’s on
the site of six unmarked graves believed to belong to kūpapa. Except that further
inquiries around the time of the Ōrākau unveiling revealed quite a different story.
They were, in fact, the graves of Kīngitanga fighters taken captive by the British at
Hairini and Ōrākau who had subsequently died of their wounds.27
That changed matters considerably. But ‘rebels’ or not, the men were regarded as
dying in what Europeans by the early twentieth century were able to sentimentally
depict as a brave and chivalrous, although entirely hopeless, cause, and so the
decision was made to press on with a memorial.
Still, the suggestion that they be described as ‘heroes’ rather than merely ‘warriors’
was considered a step too far. That decision came too late: ‘heroes’ had been literally
carved into stone in time for the official unveiling on the 11th of June 1914 and
remains the wording on the monument today.28 [Fig.2]
The Te Awamutu memorial was just one of a number of measures under action
or contemplation at this time.29 Months after the Ōrākau unveiling, proposals were
floated for the Crown to resume ownership of the site of the battlefield (which had
been confiscated in 1865 but subsequently sold or granted to military settlers). It
would then become a permanent memorial to those who had fought and died there.
The proposal also involved deviating the road to avoid the graves of some of those
buried at Ōrākau, something which the Waipa County Council rejected outright.
Cowan’s work inspired efforts to capture the wars through other mediums.
Pākehā flocked in their thousands to Rudall Hayward’s 1925 silent movie, ‘Rewi’s
Last Stand’, later remade as a popular feature-length talkie.34 Hayward proudly
proclaimed the film’s historical accuracy, pointing out that it was closely based on
Cowan’s work.35 Many of those who appeared in the 1940 version were descendants
of Māori and Pākehā veterans of the Ōrākau conflict.36 But the 1940 film, which
later became part of the School Film Library catalogue and hence was shown to
large numbers of New Zealand children, remained very much in the tradition of
Ōrākau as a chivalrous and noble conflict (even if the death of the central heroine,
Ariana, at the hands of a Forest Ranger hinted at a grimmer reality).37 ‘Today’, an
opening foreword declares, ‘the slowly blending races of white men and brown
live in peace and equality as one people...the New Zealanders.’ Myth prevailed on
screen, and to a lesser extent in print.
But what the success of both Cowan’s book and Hayward’s films did show
is that for many Pākehā at this time, the Waikato War was vital, important and
remembered, even if often in a form of myth reconstituted as history.
Just one thing was missing. The Ōrākau ceremony in 1914 had largely been a
Pākehā affair. An appeal was issued “To the Maori Tribes who fought against us in
the Waikato War’ to “attend to their side of the celebration.” 38 But all of the vital
decisions, including when, where and how Ōrākau would be commemorated (or
celebrated), had already been made and it appears that there was minimal Māori
If attitudes such as these were in any way reflective of mainstream Pākehā opinion,
it was perhaps hardly surprising that many Māori stayed away from Ōrākau. But
the correspondent for the Auckland Star – more than likely Cowan himself – was
more insightful, writing of the Ōrākau gathering that “Numerically the attendance
of natives was not notable. It was hardly to be expected it would be. If you take a
man’s land, and then fight him when he objects, it is hardly likely that he will take
a particularly keen interest when you record the incident with a monument.” 42
In fact, it appears that news of the Kīngitanga deputation to Britain may have
prompted the Government to re-evaluate its own commitment to the Ōrākau event.
It was widely reported that the Governor (who had recently made an historic visit
to Parihaka)43 would be in attendance, along with Prime Minister William Massey.44
But neither man was there on the day. The Governor instead made a surprise visit
to an A & P show in Oxford (Massey was also in the South Island), while plans
to present the colours of the 16th Waikato Regiment (which incorporated ‘Ake!
Ake! Ake! as the regimental motto) during the ceremony were also cancelled.45
But the most obvious absences were on the Māori side. It was especially telling
that King Te Rata and prominent members of the Kīngitanga were not present
for the Ōrākau ‘celebration’, and that Maui Pomare, as the representative of the
Native Race in Cabinet, felt compelled during his speech to the gathering to deny
reports “that the Maori people rather resented the erection of the monument as
celebrating their defeat at the hands of the pakeha.”46 Six surviving Māori veterans
of the Ōrākau battle were in attendance, however, their entry to the ceremony
Among the gifts handed over were three carbine rifles and cartouche boxes, a flag
belonging to the Taranaki Military Settlers No. 6 Company that had been captured
during fighting, along with an officer’s sword that was said to have been highly
prized by Māori, having been rumoured to have been handed to Rawiri Puhirake
by a dying Colonel Booth at the Battle of Gate Pā, before later being presented
to King Tawhiao.49 Although there were varying stories as to the origins of the
sword in particular,50 it was clear that this and the other articles presented to the
Government were of considerable symbolic value. Allen, in accepting the gifts on
behalf of the Government, declared that there could be no greater evidence of the
healing of wounds. He promised that the gifts would be conserved and protected,
and the memory of their presentation not forgotten.51 By 1921, the flag, the sword
and the carbines had all been lost, the Department of Defence confessing that, after
full and exhaustive inquiries (which also involved the Railways Department and
the Dominion Museum), it could find no trace of any of the items in question.52
(The flag has very recently been located in New Plymouth’s Puke Ariki Museum,
having been found in the General Assembly Library in 1952 by the historian Guy
Scholefield. Unaware of the flag’s provenance, Scholefield had simply handed it
over to the Museum, which was also in the dark as to its origins until alerted to
the backstory by researcher Cathy Marr in 2014).53
Perhaps it was in keeping with the festive nature of Pākehā celebrations around
the Ōrākau anniversary that so little care and attention should have been given
to the items once received by the Government. And a similar attitude seems to
have extended to the few surviving Māori veterans of Ōrākau. In 1919 one of
their number, an elderly Pou Patate Huihi, wrote to Maui Pomare concerning the
“desires of the people in regard to grants made to the survivors of the Orakau
pa.”54 He asked that, now that the Great War was over, he might receive such a
grant. Pomare referred the matter to the Defence Minister, who advised that he
could find no reference to any such undertaking.55 Given that there were only six
surviving veterans as at 1914, any grant would likely have been a matter of a few
hundred pounds per annum at most. But while happy to celebrate Ōrākau, the
Government was not interested in extending practical assistance of this kind to
its survivors (even though military pensions were paid to the Pākehā veterans).56
For the most part, such a debate was not allowed to intrude into the emerging
Pākehā narrative of Ōrākau as being marked by mutual respect and chivalry.
But the facts pointed to an altogether darker affair. One female prisoner named
Hineiturama was murdered in cold blood before William Mair could save her.60
Another woman, Ahumai Te Paerata (who had famously vowed that if the men
died, the women and children would die too) survived but was wounded in four
places.61 There was nothing noble or glorious about any of this. On the third day
of the siege, and with British sappers about to breach the Pā’s outer defences, the
occupants of Ōrākau made a run for it. Large numbers were killed in the subsequent
British pursuit, the smell of decomposing corpses from the nearby swamp where
many fell lending a foul stench to Ōrākau for weeks afterwards.62
That Māori held to a notably less sentimental view of the war than most Pākehā,
even more than fifty years later, was evident in the exchanges around another
mooted proposal by which to remember the war. As the plan for a road deviation
at Ōrākau was eventually dismissed as too costly and complicated, a suggestion
arose to erect another memorial on the site, this time specifically to mark the graves
of the Māori killed there.63 Added to that, on one side of the existing monument,
the name ‘Rewi Maniapoto’ appeared, without further explanation or description.
Although the proposed second monument was left in abeyance, proposed additional
text for the existing one was by late 1916 being solicited. Eventually a member of
the Te Heuheu family (possibly Tureiti Te Heuheu) supplied an inscription, which,
when translated by the Government read:
Edith Statham, the Inspector of Old Soldiers’ Graves for the Department of
Internal Affairs, had led the charge for a new monument and/or inscription at
Ōrākau, but wrote in response to the translation of Te Heuheu’s text ‘I do not quite
like it, as it does not set forth the main fact that I was anxious to give publicity
to, viz., that Rewi was the Chief commanding the Maori troops and made such a
gallant defence against our men.’ 65
In an indication as to just how tone deaf many Pākehā were to Māori feelings at
this time, in April 1922 a Great War memorial was officially unveiled at Mercer.
[Fig.3] It was constructed out of one of the turrets from the Pioneer warship used
to attack local Māori nearly half a century earlier.67 The Mercer turret continued
to be the centrepiece of local Anzac Day gatherings through until the 1990s.68 The
second turret from the Pioneer was in 1926 presented to the town of Ngāruawāhia
and today stands at The Point.69
Imperfectly, and even insensitively, remembered as they were, Ōrākau and other
battles, retained an important place in Pākehā imaginations. In 1921 children from
throughout the Te Awamutu area staged a mock re-enactment of the battle on the
site where it had taken place, although so few Māori participated that some of the
Pā’s defenders had to be played by Pākehā children.70 Ōrākau even featured in
New Zealand’s contribution to the Pageant of Empire held at Wembley Stadium in
London in 1924.71 Through the 1920s and 1930s James Cowan played a leading
role in advocating for greater protection of the battle sites. Cowan had previously
been instrumental in ensuring that the land on which the central redoubt at
Rangiriri was built was declared a scenic reserve in 1912 (albeit with a road, later
State Highway One, running through one corner of it).72 In about 1870, his own
father had fenced off and planted blue gums around an area believed to be an
urupā where forty Māori killed at Ōrākau still lay, carefully preserving it, his son
noted, as a sacred or tapu spot. But the Cowan family had long since ceased to
own the land and the fence and trees had disappeared.
The Te Awamutu Historical Society had recently been formed, and Cowan (its
inaugural patron) urged members and other interested locals to take responsibility
for protecting the site. That message was at least partly heeded when in 1937 the
society paid to repair the Ōrākau monument after recent damage to its spire.76 But
within three months of repairs being done, the monument had been damaged
again, both times wilfully. This prompted the Internal Affairs Under Secretary to
posit that such vandalism “surely could only have been caused by some person or
persons mentally obsessed.”77 Police never found the culprit, and so the question
as to whether the attacks had been in some way politically motivated, rather than
merely mindless acts of destruction, was never answered.78
On the 1st of April 1939, Cowan wrote another column for the Auckland Star in
which he declared that residents of the district were not unmindful of the seventy-
fifth anniversary of the Ōrākau battle, with wreaths in memory of the combatants of
both races to be laid at the foot of the memorial unveiled a quarter century earlier.
But still, he reminded readers, there was no protection or acknowledgement of the
nearby wāhi tapu where many Māori defenders of Ōrākau were buried.79 In some
Officials who had already voiced discomfort at the prospect of the New Zealand
Wars being stressed were not having this; the entire chapter was excised, leaving
Cowan greatly peeved. But Cowan’s attempted deviation from his customary
role of story-teller to a more serious social commentator was not without its own
contradictions, especially given his own celebratory accounts of ‘the pioneering
period’. 81
Even so, with Cowan’s death in 1943, no one with a comparable public profile
remained to advocate for the Ōrākau site and its dead. Times were changing,
but not everyone was up with the play. The committee planning the centenary
of Rangiriri in November 1963 eventually agreed to drop plans for a mock re-
enactment of the battle, when confronted with Waikato Māori complaints that
this was an insensitive way to mark an event that was still a source of great pain
and bitterness for them.82 The programme of events nevertheless featured Pākehā
dressed up variously as either settlers or British troops, along with canoe races, a
Māori concert party, hangi and Māori against Pākehā tug of war.
One speaker, a naval chaplain, went even further than this. After lamenting the
loss of life resulting from the Rangiriri battle, he added ‘but we rejoice that there
are now no longer two peoples in this land’.86 Quite what those Māori among
the estimated two thousand-strong crowd would have made of this statement is
difficult to know. In any event, the whole affair appears to have been overshadowed
by the news that reached New Zealand overnight of the assassination of President
Kennedy in Dallas, Texas, prompting prayers for the people of the United States.
When the centenary of the battle of Ōrākau was marked in 1964, guests were
treated to a special screening of Rewi’s Last Stand, a hangi, kapa haka competitions
and a concert featuring Kiri Te Kanawa.87 New plaques were unveiled on the
existing monument and a less than culturally appropriate picnic area built by
the Waipa County Council. Perhaps in tacit acknowledgement of its proximity to
an urupā where many of the victims of Ōrākau lie, the picnic area was recently
removed.88 Yet some Waikato elders wanted no part in the centennial proceedings,
concerned that the whole affair had become something of a circus. So long as
Writing in the Māori Affairs Department magazine, ‘Te Ao Hou’, later that year,
the Māori journalist and commentator (and future Race Relations Conciliator)
Harry Dansey offered an insightful set of reflections on the recent battle centenaries.
He observed that overall:
A sense of being ill at ease in this matter, felt indeed by many, was
manifest as far as I was concerned in a seemingly illogical combination
of sorrow, anger, pride, foreboding and amusement. There was sorrow
that the relationship of the two races...should have once reached
such a stage that no course was left but to kill one another; anger
that Pakeha greed dictated the viciously unjust confiscation of land;
pride in the peerless courage of men and women irrespective of which
cause they espoused; foreboding that those who were arranging
ceremonies would not recognise such sorrow, anger and pride;
amusement, wry though it may have been, at how so many Pakehas
could have lived so long and closely with Maoris and yet brick by
dropped brick demonstrate that they had learned next to nothing of
their neighbours.89
He noted his own view that there ought to have been commemorations rather
than celebrations (as they had been described) of the anniversaries and added that:
It was with some misgivings that I read how Rangiriri planned to hold
a service to be followed by a gala afternoon which included a raft race,
Maori parties performing, people in period costume and all the fun of
the fair. But because the Maori people of the district were participating
I kept my thoughts to myself.
Yet thanks to more militant Māori voices, aided by a new generation of historians,
the Pākehā version of the wars was becoming harder to sustain, and had been all
but discredited by the 1970s.92 The problem was that no new narrative of the
wars emerged (or at least, no new narrative with popular support), and so we
were left with a kind of uncomfortable silence. ‘Don’t mention the [Waikato] War’
became a kind of unspoken mantra and tied in with broader Pākehā discomfort
at the level of Māori unrest, as evident through annual Waitangi Day protests, the
Māori Land March of 1975 and the dramatic Bastion Point occupation of two years
later. When that silence was challenged in ways that mainstream Pākehā opinion
found difficult to ignore, significant controversy arose. ‘The Governor’, a highly
ambitious six-part drama series that screened on TV One in 1977, presented the
Waikato War as an unsavoury land grab, while continuing to laud Māori bravery
at Ōrākau. It was attacked by Prime Minister Robert Muldoon, supposedly for its
excessive expenditure, though probably reflecting deeper cultural unease at its
troubling depiction of the colonial era.93 From the perspective of many Pākehā,
it was easier just to forget the Waikato War had ever happened.
One historian threatened to upset this status quo. But while James Belich’s book
on the New Zealand Wars was hailed as a tour de force by scholars when first
published in 1986, the wider public response to a five-part documentary series
based on the book that screened in 1998 was decidedly more mixed. It drew
a huge audience, but also attracted the ire of many talk-back radio callers and
authors of letters to newspaper editors. 95 Representative of the flavour of many of
the latter was one letter which took exception to what its author believed was the
portrayal of Pākehā as universally ‘wicked, or stupid or cowards, or all of those’,
as against ‘noble and clever and brave’ Māori.96 While some dismissed Belich’s
work as ‘politically correct’ nonsense – “part of continuing propaganda by an
elitist neo-liberal...academic grouping which wants to change society to reflect its
own ideology”, 97 as one correspondent put it – others seized on a particular issue
which they claimed undermined the credibility of the work as a whole. How dare
Belich suggest that Māori might have contributed to the invention of modern-day
trench warfare, these critics complained.98
No doubt the formal apology to Tainui signed into law by Queen Elizabeth II
in 1995 for the Crown’s invasion of Waikato has contributed to a greater Māori
willingness to engage in these public acts of remembrance.100 Yet important as
the Treaty settlements process is, it is not an excuse for the rest of New Zealand
to simply forget. We still need to own our history, warts and all. In 2014, there
were no special trains from Auckland, no mass school closures. Just a kind of
awkwardness.
The Waikato War does not fit within a comfortable nation-building framework.
According to the legend, our nation was born at Gallipoli, not Ōrākau. Who wants
troubling introspection when we can have heart-warming patriotism instead? That,
fundamentally, is the reason for the historical amnesia. That stands in marked
contrast with the Ōrākau ‘celebrations’ of 1914, which could be seen as a kind of
pre-Gallipoli foundational narrative, based around the mythical notion of fifty years
of peace and the greatest race relations in the world.101 Those ideas continued to
exert a powerful influence on the way in which the Waikato War was marked half
a century later. But much has changed since the 1960s.
Today, when we can no longer celebrate the Waikato War, the challenge is to
find new narratives that at least allow us to remember it. For some (but certainly
not all) older Pākehā New Zealanders brought up to believe that they grew up in
a country with the greatest ‘race relations’ in the world, confronting the darker
reality of our New Zealand Wars history may be deeply unsettling. John Key’s
2014 insistence that New Zealand was settled peacefully was widely ridiculed at
the time.102 But the sentiments that underlay that statement retain an enduring
appeal in some quarters. We can no longer allow such views to go unchallenged.
A mature nation takes ownership of its history, not just cherry-picking the good
bits out to remember but also acknowledging the bad bits as well, and the Waikato
Under these circumstances the Tainui tribes and their supporters suffered
horrendous casualty rates. Those killed included women and children, some the
victims of clear atrocities. At Rangiaowhia people were deliberately torched to
death inside their whare. At Ōrākau a cavalry was unleashed against the occupants
of the Pā as they sought to flee for their lives on foot. More than half were killed,
including documented cases of female prisoners bayonetted by troops.
Although Europeans later attempted to depict the war as one marked by mutual
chivalry and bravery, there was nothing noble and glorious about any of this. And
it is time that we as a nation acknowledge that fact, confronting the reality of what
actually took place. It may be uncomfortable history for some but it’s a truth that
Pākehā can no longer run from. Owning our past requires guts and maturity. No
one ever said it would be easy, but it is an essential step in the development of
the nation.
And if we look closely enough we might even find a few uplifting aspects to the
story, such as the principled idealism and bicultural vision of Wiremu Tamihana,
Rewi Maniapoto’s insistence on fighting fairly and honourably, even when under
horrendous attack or even the sheer bravery of those few Pākehā who spoke out
against the war at a time when many settlers were baying for Māori blood.104 That
took courage and conviction.
Pākehā who lack awareness of the history of this country also lack the means
to fully understand the present. Māori poverty, for example, makes little sense
without an understanding of the historical context, leaving some to resort to
deficit theories blaming Māori themselves for their predicament. In reality, the
war destroyed a flourishing Māori economy. Sweeping and indiscriminate land
confiscations pushed generations of Tainui people into landlessness and poverty.
And it marked the point at which Treaty of Waitangi was swept aside for the next
These are stories that need to be told and heard. As the Waitangi Tribunal
has said, “While only one side remembers the suffering of the past, dialogue will
always be difficult. One side commences the dialogue with anger and the other
side has no idea why. Reconciliation cannot be achieved by this means.”106 And
so it is time for New Zealanders to learn about this history that Tainui and other
Iwi have carried alone for so many generations.
It is vital that New Zealanders are in touch with their own history and that is
why the New Zealand Wars (not just the Waikato conflict) should be taught to all
school children. We can debate the practicalities of how that might take place, but
the principle is just common sense. Secondly, I think we could be doing a whole
lot more to protect and promote the actual battle sites. Some of them are in a
pretty disgraceful condition. And allied with that, more information and resources
should be made available so that people, and not just school children, learn about
this history. These are not big asks and they do not require a major allocation of
resources, just a commitment to recognising the importance of this history.
This is our story, our history. It happened here, in this place, relatively recently
in historical terms and it had profound consequences for what New Zealand was
and would become. While it is a history that many New Zealanders have preferred
to ignore until now, the response to my book (‘The Great War for New Zealand:
Waikato, 1800-2000’, launched in 2016), and to the Ōtorohanga College petition
REFERENCES:
1
An earlier version of this chapter was published as ‘“Recording the Incident
with a Monument”: The Waikato War in Historical Memory’, Journal
of New Zealand Studies, 19 (2015): 79-97.
2
Chris Maclean and Jock Phillips, The Sorrow and the Pride: New Zealand War
Memorials (Wellington: GP Books, 1990), 28.
3
James Belich, Paradise Reforged: A History of the New Zealanders from the
1880s to the Year 2000 (Auckland: Penguin, 2001), 209-10; Jane
Stafford and Mark Williams, Maoriland: New Zealand Literature,
1872-1914 (Wellington: Victoria University Press, 2006).
4
James Belich has argued that a central feature of this ‘suppressive reflex’
was a tendency to downplay Māori military achievement in the wars.
James Belich, The New Zealand Wars and the Victorian Interpretation of
Racial Conflict (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1986), 318.
5
For details on the range of activities being funded see ‘Activities and
Projects’, New Zealand WW100, accessed 23 November 2017, http://
ww100.govt.nz/. This does not include television programmes
funded separately through NZ on Air. One journalist has calculated
that, in total, the Government has committed something like
$25 million to the World War One centenary and associated
events, but only around one per cent ($250,000) on the Waikato
War sesquicentenary, including the Tauranga campaign. Alison
McCulloch, ‘Lest We Remember’, Werewolf, 47 (2014), accessed 23
November 2017, http://werewolf.co.nz/2014/04/lest-we-remember/.
6
Just under 10,000 people vied for the 2000 places allocated New Zealand
for the 25 April 2015 ceremony. ‘Almost 10,000 in Gallipoli ticket
ballot’, RNZ, accessed 23 November 2017, http://www.radionz.co.nz/
news/national/234927/almost-10,000-in-gallipoli-ticket-ballot
Fig. 2. Detail from the monument to the ‘Maori Heroes’ unveiled at St John’s
Church, Te Awamutu, 11 June 1914. Photograph by Vincent
O’Malley, 2015.
These words capture the sentiments of the kuia Hinerua II2 as she
mourned the passing of her son in a pre-European battle. She had a
premonition that her son had fallen in battle and composed this waiata
tangi to describe the pain she felt as she knew her son had been killed.
This waiata tangi was then revived following the Battle of Tataraimaka
in Taranaki in 1861 when Whanganui went to assist Taranaki and were
slaughtered as a result of being too eager and not adhering to their role of
distracting the enemy. There are many examples of laments that remind
us of the deeds of the past and the key is to learn and try not to repeat
any mistakes. For these laments are in fact a form of commemoration,
legitimate to our culture and similar across the world.
Ko Ruapehu te maunga
Ko Whanganui me Whangaehu ngā awa
Ko Te Āti Haunui-a-Pāpārangi me Ngāti Rangi ngā iwi
Ko Whanganui te iwi whānui
Both battles were against ourselves as Whanganui and are possibly more
challenging to talk about because it is easy to highlight the evil Crown rather than
confront our own challenges, although the Crown were behind both battles. There
were also skirmishes in Pīpīriki in 1865 and Whanganui Kūpapa also went to the
aid of the Crown under the leadership of Taitoko Te Rangihiwinui (Major Kemp
[Fig.1] or Te Keepa) in Taranaki and Whanganui who were part of the pursuit of Te
Kooti around the North Island including leading at the Battle of Te Pōrere in 1869.
After being chased up river, we were able to negotiate a one-on-one battle between
our best warriors, Te Hāmārama for Whanganui and Tūwhare for the Far North, to
finish the battles and skirmishes. Tūwhare was injured and fled and Whanganui
was able to regroup and maintain peace. But both the various conflicts with the
Far North tribes, Ngāti Raukawa and Ngāti Toa, impacted our view on the new
style of combat and I maintain was a key driver for the lower river people choosing
the path of collaboration. Added to this, the establishment of the port city of
Whanganui meant constant and direct contact with settlers and the exposure to
both opportunities and threats.
There were other key events in the late 1850s and early 1860s that led to
Whanganui taking two paths. Whanganui co-hosted the 1856 Pūkawa Hui to
establish a Māori King with their close whanaunga, Ngāti Tūwharetoa. This
promoted independence and utilising a single voice to protect and challenge
the settler Government. Added to this, in 1860 Whanganui hosted the Kōkako
Hui, a hui to bring its neighbouring tribes together to confirm boundaries and to
cease the selling of land and encouraging leasing. Kōkako is between Waiouru
and Taihape and included the tribes of Tūwharetoa, Kahungunu, Ngāti Raukawa,
Rangitīkei and Whanganui. These events, as well as interaction with settlers and
the impact the Government were having on the loss of land, meant that Whanganui
were brewing for a fight. Sadly, it came to pass that this fight would be with each
other as Whanganui.
There were those that had been exposed to the opportunities that the new people
had brought who were principally based in the lower river and those that had been
poisoned with arsenic in their flour and sugar they purchased who were based
in the upper river. Therefore, on the 13th May 1864, these two parties gathered
and agreed to meet the next morning on the 14th of May 1864, at an island on
the Whanganui river known as Moutoa based near the settlement of Rānana.
The Battle of Moutoa was led by Te Rangihiwinui (Major Kemp) for the Kūpapa
forces and Matene Rangitauira who led the Pai Mārire contingent. Rangitauira
had commissioned the building of the waka, Teremoe [Fig.2], and led his people
to Hiruharama and then to Tāwhitinui, immediately across from Moutoa. At 7am
on the morning of the 14th, both parties were in place and Kereti Te Hiwitahi (a
This exposed him and he was shot, becoming the ‘ika mātahi’ and his people
then understanding the purpose of the whāriki, used it to roll him in and carried
him away. By 9am, tensions had risen again and then around fifteen minutes later
Matene Rangitauira swam across the river and was shot and injured. Te Mooro,
a relative of Rangitauira and a member of the Kūpapa contingent, dived in to the
river and swam over to check if Rangitauira was alive. Rangitauira was alive and
once Te Mooro got to him, Rangitauira handed over this patu pounamu and said
to his cousin:
Te Mooro was then renamed Te Mooro Rukuwai to remember the act of diving in
to the river and swimming over to kill Rangitauira. Rangitauira’s waka, Teremoe,
then became a trophy of war for the Kūpapa and was taken by Hipango and is
now based at Te Papa Tongarewa. Also, Hipango later married the daughter of
Rangitauira’s second-in-command.
It is said that the Battle of Moutoa is when the ‘river ran red with blood, where
father fought son, where brother fought brother, where cousin fought cousin.’
This quote is clear for me as Rānana is the place on the river where I would always
This battle was memorialised in the Moutoa Flag and a kaioraora (a derogatory
chant) ‘Tērā ngā tai ka tangi haere kei Whanganui’ composed by Uira that challenges
the Kūpapa for what she saw as betrayal. A second flag known as the Moutoa-
Ohoutahi Flag was made to commemorate the Battle of Ohoutahi in 1865. At
Ohoutahi, the famous lower river chief, Hipango, was killed.
Of more importance are the peace accords and how Whanganui then named
any new wharepuni after events to help the people navigate and pursue peace
rather than naming after ancestors. Whiri Taunoka 3 at Hiruharama is named for
Hori Kingi Te Anaua (Te Rangihiwinui’s uncle) tying the taunoka shrub to mark
a boundary for peace. Te Ao Mārama near Pīpīriki was built to commemorate
peace and then the settlement was later renamed Te Ao Mārama to emphasise
the importance of peace. Te Mōrehu4 at Rānana was named to remember Te
Rangihiwinui’s famous words to John Balance and James Carroll. These names
are all reminders of peace and war and therefore commemorate the challenges that
we as Whanganui faced by choosing both the path of resistance and collaboration.
Today I think about the limited memorials to our two paths of survival, both
resistance and collaboration, and the best way Whanganui celebrates both paths
today is through its annual wānanga, Te Tira Hoe Waka o te Awa o Whanganui,
where uri paddle from the upper reaches to the sea, learning about all components
of our tribal fabric including the paths of resistance and collaboration. This is a
Māori way to remember the past where we learn at Marae Kōwhai in the upper
reaches about the Pai Mārire and where we occasionally hear the Pai Mārire karakia
still being conducted. From Pīpīriki to Rānana, we are reminded of Ohoutahi and
Moutoa and at Koriniti we remember the challenges to Te Rangihiwinui by his
own supporters who had lost respect for the settlers. From Parikino to Kaiwhaiki,
we are also reminded about those tūpuna that left the river to support Parihaka
and return with their teachings. This wānanga celebrates and commemorates
our diversity as a people of Whanganui and does it in a Māori way rather than
through European forms of remembering. This helps us to live our history each
year and helps us to find peace with ourselves for resistance and collaboration
are valid forms of survival.
REFERENCES
1
Waiata tangi of Ngāti Kurawhatia, Te Āti Haunui-a-Pāpārangi
2
There are eleven generations between this kuia and the author.
3
This wharepuni is based at the lower marae, Hiruharama.
4
This was originally Te Rangihiwinui’s whare rūnanga, Huriwhenua, built in
the 1880s and based at Kauika Marae, Rānana. It was used to call
FIGURES
Fig. 1. Te Rangihiwinui (Major Kemp) Whanganui Regional Musuem
On the 29th of April 1864, just over two hundred Māori faced off against
seventeen hundred Pakehā on a grassy hillside just outside of Tauranga.
The fight that followed is largely remembered as a Māori victory, even
though during the night they abandoned the battlefield. But it is also
most remembered as one of the worst losses suffered by an imperial force
at the hands of ‘natives’ in the entire history of the British Empire. The
Pakehā army that arrived that day consisted of a mix of soldiers, sailors and
marines, supported by what was at that time, the biggest artillery battery
that they had ever assembled in Colonial New Zealand. The soldiers were
mostly the veterans of Crimea and the Indian campaigns who had arrived
on vessels directly from those battlefields and they were reinforced by the
marines and sailors from the warships that had brought them here. This
‘mixed’ force of British troops was supported by a reserve force of some
six hundred men of the newly formed Waikato Militia. The Militia had in
its ranks both locals and many recruits from Australia who were attracted
to New Zealand by promises of land in return for military service. When
the battle was over the following morning there were 111 British dead
and wounded while it was estimated that approximately twenty Māori
had been killed and an unknown number wounded.
This small piece of our history is not particularly well known because
the New Zealand school curriculum, for many generations, has not been
concerned with New Zealand history but thankfully that attitude is
changing with school children themselves calling for more teaching about
the New Zealand Wars. It is a pity it never happened before now because
When I was a kid growing up, the war dead were remembered as noble and
glorious heroes who lay down their lives to preserve our freedom. But there is a
subtle change happening now; I think what we are seeing is an increasingly sobering
sadness at the realisation of the waste of millions of lives and an often-expressed
resentment at our blind loyalty to the inept leadership of the British Empire that
threw so many New Zealand lives away; especially in the First World War. It is the
price we have paid for what, in retrospect, seems relatively meaningless.
On a much smaller scale, the same can be said in relation to Gate Pā. There is
no glorious victory to celebrate but there is a sadness derived from hindsight and
a regret that no one in Tauranga, on either side, found an opportunity to broker
a resolution that did not involve fighting. However, we all know that by 1864 the
die was well cast. Largely through the machinations of colonial politicians driven
by settler land greed and confidently riding on the back of relatively easy victories
in the Waikato fighting, it was determined to punish Tauranga Māori for sending
soldiers to fight in the Waikato and for providing supplies. But more attractive was
the prospect of a further opportunity to obtain more Māori land under pernicious
legislation such as the 1863 Native Settlements Act which provided for confiscation
of Māori land as punishment for rebellion. For Tauranga Māori, our homes were
invaded by an army that seemingly turned up from nowhere in large numbers and
with equipment and arms of which we had never seen the like of before. We were
left with little choice but to fight.
So why should this battle, relatively minor in the affairs of the Empire, be of such
importance and why should the conflict be regarded as something other than a
brief engagement on a wet and muddy April afternoon in 1864? While the British
troops ended up being in command of the battlefield the day after the fight, there
is nothing in their reports that suggest they saw themselves as victors. They clearly
saw Pukehinahina as a defeat, but in the shock of that loss, there was a legend born
The foundation for the legend can be attributed to Henare Taratoa from Ngāti
Raukawa who was a Christian lay reader convert living in Ōtaki with Octavius
Hadfield and who had trained at St John’s College in Auckland. He had returned
to Tauranga and was largely responsible for formulating a ‘Code of Conduct’
which was contained in a letter sent to the British Commander saying “This is
how we intend to conduct the fight that is coming. People who surrender will be
treated with care and respect. We will not attack women and children. If a soldier
carried away by his fears runs to the house of the priest, we will not go there, and
he will be safe.” The Code finished with the biblical quotation from the book of
Romans “If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if they thirst, give them drink.” This
was something that Victorian Pakehā viewed as being distinctive because, until
that point, they had been fighting against a people who had no hesitation about
cutting off the heads of the dead or wounded and treating them in a traditionally
savage fashion. There was none of that behaviour at Gate Pā and Pakehā came to
admire this greatly. Evidence of this can be found in a stained-glass window in
Lichfield Cathedral in Staffordshire, England, dedicated to the wars in New Zealand.
The window had been commissioned by Bishop Augustus Selwyn who had spent
years in New Zealand and had been chaplain to the British troops in the 1860s.
Colonel Henry Booth, one of the officers leading the assault on the Pā, was
shot and badly wounded and left dying out on the battlefield in the night calling
for water. At great personal risk someone from the pa went out to take water to
him. Some stories say it was a woman, Heni Te Kiri Karamu, who performed this
kindness which gave real meaning to the biblical injunction – the code they were
fighting under - to give the enemy drink. Others say it was their tūpuna who
carried the water or even Henare Taratoa or the leader of the Māori side, the chief
Rawiri Puhirake.
The Trust started with looking at the site of the battle itself and working with
the local council, devising a plan of how we could revamp the whole reserve.
There had already been some work done with information panels or story boards
erected but other elements such as the site pathway was incomplete as it did not
go up the top of what was left of the battlefield. New pathways and routes that
were wheelchair accessible were placed and an ātea kōrero platform at the top
was built where St George’s Church now stands. The idea behind the ātea was
that it would be a place where people could gather and discuss or reflect on what
had happened there.
As is common with many of the battle sites once the battle was over, the first thing
Pākehā did was put a highway through the middle of a pā. This is what happened
at Gate Pā and at Rangiriri and Ōrākau in the Waikato. The main trenches at Gate
Pā would have been where the highway is now. We believed it was important to
have a sightline to our maunga, Mauao (Mt Maunganui), which sits at the entrance
to the harbour. Since the 1960s to 2014, trees had been planted on the battlefield
reserve so many had to be taken down to clear the view. Some of the timber being
worked on by the carvers for the anniversary.
A new flagstaff was erected behind the old concrete block memorial that was the
only thing standing on the site previously. We also had many people approach
the Trust and say “How can I help? What can I do?” One man who specialised in
building models built a huge model of the entire battlefield which was then placed
in the airport terminal in Tauranga so the people travelling could learn about the
commemorations the Trust was planning.
One hundred Pukehinehina flags were made but as they sold in the first week,
the Trust had another hundred made. At the ANZAC Day commemorations
at Huria Marae, Tauranga, we were flying the Pukehinahina Flag. I had invited
the Turkish Embassy to send someone to give a kōrero and they advised me to
contact Ali who runs one of the local kebab shops. He and his family arrived at
the marae in the morning. Ali was stressed so I enquired “What is the matter?” He
said “You have got the wrong flag up! That’s not the Turkish flag!” I responded,
“That’s our flag!” and he said “Thank goodness for that! What can I do to fix it?”
I said “Don’t worry about it. This is the start of a new relationship between you
and us Ali. When you see a Māori person come to your shop you say “Kia ora,
haere mai, cheap kebabs!” Our interaction with Ali is a good example of building
relationships with the most unlikely of people within the community, as they all
have something to contribute.
The Trust also worked closely with the armed constabulary group who were
based in Napier. They have a collection of cannons and coehorn mortars that are
the very weapons used at Pukehinahina. We formed a relationship with them and
asked them to bring their guns to Tauranga, which they did. When they fired
the mortars, it created another attraction for the local schoolchildren. We turned
up one day at the bank, near the Pukehinahina, with the cannon and a lady said,
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” We said “Well we’ve come to rob you! It will
take us a while to load it.” Fortunately, she got the joke and we said “We thought
we would just display it in the foyer of your bank” to which she agreed. We now
had made another friend and when we needed to borrow some money to pay for
some tupara (double-barrelled shotguns) that were made in Italy, we went to the
same bank!
The Trust also wanted to include activities for children. A lady who lives at
Matapihi was quite happy to write a book for children on the battle. She then
attended every school within a ten-mile radius of Pukehinahina and gave readings
to all the schoolchildren. A senior and secondary art competition was held and
the two girls who won the secondary school section won with a painting that is
a combination of the Pākehā side with General Duncan Cameron who led the
troops at Pukehinahina and the Māori side with one of the chiefs, Hori Ngatai,
who fought in the conflict.
The Trust also organised a poetry competition for adults and for schoolchildren
with Poet Laureate Vince O’Sullivan judging the entries. While he was in Tauranga,
we also approached him to read some of his own material and another event for
Tauranga was created. We also held speech competitions for schoolchildren and an
exhibition of all the drawings and photographs that came from that time was held
in a church after being kindly sponsored by one of the community organisations.
On the night before the battle in 1864, the local missionary Archdeacon Alfred
Brown had a dinner at ‘The Elms’, the mission station in Tauranga. He hosted a
dinner for all the visiting officers from the army and the navy. Ten of them turned
up for dinner and the next day nine of them were dead. The Trust decided to
organise a commemoration dinner which was successful and very well attended
with one of our speakers being Willie Apiata V.C. Two ladies had travelled from
England as their ancestor, Surgeon William Manley, had been at Gate Pā and won
Of all the times the Trust asked for assistance, only on one occasion was our
request was denied. We asked the Government if they would extend an invitation
on our behalf to Prince Harry to attend the dinner. The answer we received was
“No.” But, in the absence of the Prince, Major General David Cullen, here on a
training exercise with the Ghurka Regiment, spoke. The event also had a good
contingent from the navy present. The navy has always been heavily involved in
what happens in Tauranga because quite a few sailors were killed at Pukehinahina
and were buried in the local Mission Cemetery and neglected for many years.
Most times when navy vessel came into Tauranga, they sent a work party to tidy
up the urupā.
On the 29th of April, 2014, 150 years since the Battle of Gate Pā, the
commemorations proper started with a memorial service at dawn in the cemetery
where most of the British casualties were buried. A section of the urupā is set aside
for the unknown Māori recovered from the battlefield. The number of people who
arrived and tried to crowd into this little urupā was overwhelming, but somehow,
they all fitted in. The New Zealand Army Band is one of the star outfits and a
showpiece of the Army. This professional group of musicians provided most of
the music at all the formal events throughout the commemoration week.
We had various events involving the Army Band; they gave a concert in the middle
of town, they played at the dawn service, they played at the dinner the night before
and on the day they were the band that took part in the re-creation of the British
Army’s march up Cameron Road to Pukehinahina. The Army Band was not the
only musical item at the commemorations, as the New Zealand String Quartet also
came and gave a performance of music from the 1860’s in the amazing acoustics
of Tamateapokaiwhenua at Huria Marae. We had never had that type of music
before at the Marae and it was pleasing to introduce our mokopuna and children
to classical music and local music buffs to the Marae!
The commemorations also served as a huge event for our kapa haka people, so
much so that they started training a year out from the actual day. They composed
their own haka and waiata for the occasion. Tauranga Moana had seen previously
what had happened in Tainui when they commemorated their past conflicts with
The muskets they were holding were tupara (double barrelled shotguns). The
Trust had managed to get a hold of the original specifications for those weapons
that are an English design but manufactured in Italy. They were quite expensive
to purchase. Members of the haka group said “When you get the tupara in your
hand, you feel that there is a connection between you and your tupuna and how
they must have felt at Pukehinahina.” The haka group stood there on the hill,
watching the parade coming towards them. I have never seen people so emotionally
affected. Apart from the Tauranga Moana haka people, we also had a contingent
from Tainui. There was a bit of banter going backwards and forwards because
when you look at the original map of Pukehinahina, there is the main Pā and there
is a little redoubt further down the slope and a gap in-between the two. The kōrero
from Tauranga Moana is that the gap is where Tainui were supposed to be, but
they never turned up. So, when they arrived on this day, our people said “Ah you
fellas are here. Ka Pai! A bit late but never mind.”
When I look back over the events concerning Pukehinahina, I think about my
ancestors. My Great Great Grandfather carried his musket at Gate Pā. His children,
There are many stories about Pākehā families who knew that we were not
supposed to be there but who let us carry on living there in return for help with
farming and labouring help. My Grandfather and his generation were poorly
educated, living in dirt floor hovels and shacks in the ground, feeding themselves
from their gardens and whatever else they could find from the bush and from the
beach. They suffered health problems derived from their living conditions and
with no access to medical facilities. It was just a life of grinding poverty. It was
not that they were lazy or lacked a work ethic; employed or not they worked dawn
till dusk every day in a way that would put any modern-day labourer to shame.
I think about what my Grandfather and his relations lacked; they did not have
land, they did not have a presence, they did not have the opportunities, and so
having large families just became a way of life because the more hands you had, the
more workers you had to tend and gather. For my whānau we are four generations
now from the time of Pukehinahina, but we have been subjected to the same arrested
social and economic development of many other Tauranga Moana families. When
we remember Gate Pā, it is more about what happened to us afterwards that is at
the front of our thoughts.
In a way what happened in 2014 was the start of a new journey. Tauranga over
the last thirty years has changed quite dramatically. When I was a kid there was
a clear hierarchy of Tauranga families, whether they be Pākehā or Māori. They
were old families who had been there forever, who knew the stories, who knew
the history, who interacted satisfactory (not brilliantly) but got on okay. In the
last thirty years we have seen an influx of people from outside Tauranga who have
no idea about our history. Many do not know and do not care but by the same
token there are many who really want to know about the place they have decided
to call home.
FIGURES
Fig. 1. ‘For his enemy.’ – An episode of the Māori War. Lithograph, Wilson &
Horton, Auckland, 1895 published in Auckland Weekly News; A
Māori warrior takes water to a mortally wounded Colonel Booth.
Fig. 5. The winning senior student art competition entry by Kate Harris and
Ana Morris (Buddy Mikaere photo)
INTRODUCTION
How are the past events of Ngāti Awa relevant? They include the raupatu
committed against Ngāti Awa and the trials of 1866, the Compensation
Court hearing of 1867, the building of Mātaatua and Hotunui wharenui
between 1875 and 1878, the Native Land Court hearings that were held
between 1881 and 1895, the establishment of the Ngāti Awa Trust Board
in 1980, the lodging of the Ngāti Awa Raupatu Claim in 1988 and the
subsequent hearings of the Waitangi Tribunal in 1994-1995, the enacting
of the Ngāti Awa Settlement Act in 2005, and the creation of Te Kupenga
and Ngāti Awa Te Toki in more recent years. Whenever we talk about
these things we are commemorating them and we are reminding ourselves
of them, even the unsavoury aspects.
What happened to Ngāti Awa did not just happen in a vacuum or in a void.
Three crucial events took place in 1860: the first Taranaki War started with Te Teira
wanting to sell land and Wiremu Kīngi Te Rangitāke opposing the action. 2 The
second event of 1860 was the death of King Pōtatau and the succession of his son
Tāwhiao.3 The third event from 1860 was the Kohimārama Conference.4 The latter
development was a common Crown strategy - when something is happening that
you do not like, set up an alternative. When the Kīngitanga was established, one
of the first actions of Governor George Grey was to establish the rūnanga system
as an alternative to the Kīngitanga.5 Remember it was Governor Grey who said
that he would not fight the King but would rather “dig around him until he falls.” 6
Following 1860 there was another series of events that led to the actions
committed against Ngāti Awa by the Crown. In July 1863, Imperial Forces crossed
the Mangatāwhiri stream with the Battle of Ōrākau taking place less than a year later.
The Battle of Pukehinahina (Gate Pā) occurred soon after Ōrākau. The conflict at
Te Kaokaoroa at Matatā affected our own district directly in the same month, April
1864, and the Battle of Moutoa in Whanganui took place following that. The Battle
of Te Ranga occurred in the month of June 1864, and then the Reverend Volkner
was killed at Ōpōtiki the following year. That was the background, swirling around
the Central North Island, immediately prior to the events that affected Ngāti Awa. 7
Hemi Te Mautaranui Fulloon was a Ngāti Awa descendant of the famous chief
Te Mautaranui and through this ancestor he was also connected with Te Urewera.
Fulloon was a Government agent and it is said was appointed a Militia Captain by
Governor Grey. His actions and subsequent death would have a profound effect
on Ngāti Awa and the tribes of Mātaatua.
In July 1865, over a year after the defeat at Te Kaokaoroa where Ngāti Awa and
Tairāwhiti forces were repulsed in April 1864 with heavy casualties, a ‘rūnanga’
was held at Tauaroa Pā on the east bank of the Tarawera River. 8 At that hui an
aukati was laid down stretching from Cape Runaway to Taranaki. Horomona,
himself from Taranaki, had arrived in the district during this period and had gained
support for the Pai Marire movement from within sections of Ngāti Awa. Fulloon
and his companions then sailed to Whakatāne to report on developments and
Figure 1. Ruakete
The fighting continued through September and October 1865 when a final
stand was taken by Te Hura Te Taiwhakaripi, chief of Te Rangihouhiri II hapū of
Ngāti Awa and his forces, at Te Kupenga on the banks of the Rangitāiki River. It
is important to stress that the only reason the Crown forces went to Te Kupenga
is because that is where Te Hura ended up following the attacks at Matatā and
Otamāuru near Whakatāne. Finally, on the 20th of October, he surrendered his
forces and over thirty members of his hapū and those with him were arrested and
taken to Ōpōtiki for court martial. Following that they were then sent to Auckland
to be tried for their lives. 9
In January of 1866 the proclamation for the confiscation of Ngāti Awa lands was
issued. The area covered was some 440,000 acres from Ōtamarākau, across the
Waitahanui Stream, along the coast to the Haparapara River, a vast swathe that
incorporated the traditional lands of most of the Iwi of Mātaatua. Some land was
‘abandoned’ which meant the Crown did not want it retained. Some land was
‘returned to rebels’, for example, the Pokerekere Block was returned to Te Tāwera
hapū. A large area of some 87,000 acres was given to loyalist forces in return for
their military service. 10
Te Hura Te Taiwhakaripi and those with him were tried in Auckland in March
1866. 11 All of the tīpuna who were imprisoned from Taiwhakaea II, Te Rangihouhiri
II and Hikakino, were found guilty of murder, either being directly involved or
by being accessories. Mikaere Kirimangu of Te Rangihouhiri II and Horomona
from Taranaki were executed, long with three whānaunga from Te Whakatōhea
including Mokomoko. Most of the others convicted by the Supreme Court served
terms of imprisonment.
Following the trials, executions and imprisonments were the Compensation Court
hearings. 13 Whenever raupatu is inflicted on a district, be it Taranaki, Waikato,
Wairoa and the Bay of Plenty, the Crown would implement a process involving the
Compensation Court. That body was designed to examine the customary rights
of those who had their land confiscated and return any land wrongly taken or
provide compensation. It is important to remember that by this time, Te Hura has
been imprisoned and his brother Hepeta has died, leaving the pōtiki, Te Metera.
He stated at the Compensation Court that the land from Matatā to Ōtamarākau
belonged to Ngāti Awa. He was supported by Ngāti Whakaue, Ngāti Rangitihi,
Ngāti Pūkeko, Te Pahipoto and Ngāti Hokopū. However, as foreshadowed, 87,000
acres was confiscated and given to various groups in return for military service. Of
the Pokerekere Block of 1,800 acres returned in 1874, today in 2017, some 1,670
acres is still in the ownership of Te Tāwera hapū.
In short, despite everything, we have held on to this land. As the Tribunal said,
the land wars also inflicted on Ngāti Awa what was an even greater punishment
than the loss of land to military settlers; the loss of their kaingā and most fertile
lands to their traditional foes. 14 It was a shattering event for those hapū, who
largely disintegrated under the strain.
In his later years, Gilbert Mair recorded that when the error was discovered,
several high-ranking chiefs of Ngāti Awa died soon after.16 In the context of
commemoration, within the roro (porch) of Hotunui there is a carving to Te Hura
Te Taiwhakaripi, the person who was at the centre of the event surrounding the
death of Fulloon that ultimately lead to the raupatu.
When Hotunui was being carved in 1877 and 1878, the tribal artisans decided
to include a monument, a memorial pou to Te Hura. It had been assumed that he
must have died by 1878. Invariably, within Ngāti Awa, it was not the practice to
carve a pou of someone who is still alive, but he was so honoured. A newspaper
report from The Waikato Times confirmed that Te Hura attended the tangi of the
leading chief of Ngai Te Rangi, Hori Tupaea, at Rangiwaea Island in 1881, well after
the house was opened. 17 An earlier report from 1879 had him attending what was
described as a “Kingite meeting” along with Te Hurinui Apanui as representatives
of Ngāti Awa. So he became immortalised and remains to this day part of Hotunui.
Another example of paying homage to someone who offended the Crown was
through the Native Land Court processes. When the Te Aitanga a Māhaki leader
Wi Pere was ‘captured’ by Te Kooti in 1868, following the latter’s escape from Te
Wharekauri and return to Turanga-nui-a-Kiwa, he and Wi Pere had an understanding
that only they recognised.18 So when the settlement of the vast 214,000-acre Tāhora
lands was being finalised Wi Pere included in the list of owners the name Te Turuki
Te Rangipātahi, knowing that court officials would not recognise the name. If “Te
Kooti” was not included in the ownership list, then the Crown would be none the
wiser. It is the same as including a pou as a memorial to someone who is still alive
and whose actions caused great upheaval within their homelands, like Te Hura.
The lands that were absorbed by the Native Land Court included Putāuaki,
cut in half by the confiscation line: the Putāuaki No.2 Block sits outside the
confiscation line, while the balance, Matatā 59 Block is located within the
confiscation boundaries. The hearings concerning these lands, Matahina, Te
Pokohū, Putāuaki and Te Haehaenga, all referred, directly or indirectly, to the
events of the 1860s. 21 During the hearings our tīpuna referred to the New Zealand
Wars. The Court recorded who did what during that turbulent period, with some
surprising revelations. People who might have been described as arch rebels later
confirmed that, on the contrary, they joined the militia against other ‘rebel’ tribes.
When else did we talk about the New Zealand Wars to commemorate them?
The first twentieth century attempts at redress by Ngāti Awa included a series of
petitions to the Sim Commission of 1922. The petitions of Te Hurinui Apanui,
Pouawha Meihana of Ngāti Pūkeko, Wire Duncan for Nga Maihi and Te Raupauna
Te Hura, a descendant of Te Hura Te Taiwhakaripi, all sought redress for the
confiscations. 22 The Government’s response was that as Ngāti Awa were rebels
and the petitions centred on the land that was taken from people who were not
rebels the Crown could not now discern who was rebel or loyal. Therefore, the
Commission contended, no action would be taken. Before then, the first petition
from Ngāti Awa was to Prince Alfred, Queen Victoria’s son, in 1867.
As soon as our tīpuna were imprisoned, Ngāti Awa asked for their release. Ngāti
Awa also held hui with Michael Joseph Savage, the first Labour Prime Minister in
1935. Then in the 1950s tribal representatives met with Tipi Ropiha, the first Māori
Undersecretary of Māori Affairs to discuss redress. He advised the Government
that as there was no suitable land available then the claim could not be settled.
Unlike other Iwi affected by raupatu, Ngāti Awa never had the advantage of a
tribal trust board until 1988. The reality was that a trust board was the central
coordinating authority for Iwi to receive resources and to advocate at Government
level. Without the leadership of a trust board, tribal development would languish.
There was little progress for Ngāti Awa after the 1960s until the trust board was
established in 1980. It is also important to underscore that Ngāti Awa created
our own tribal authority, not the Government. Hirini Mead went to see Sir James
Fletcher who was influential in this district and he told him about the delays
that the Iwi were experiencing. Sir James responded “Why do you need the
Government? Just do it yourselves.” So Hirini Mead, Eruera Manuera, Āniheta
Rātene and Matarena Rēneti, amongst others, decided to create a charitable trust
for the Iwi at a tribal meeting held at Puawairua Marae in 1980. 23
When the Board was established it had four objectives. The first was to settle our
raupatu claim. The second aim was the return of the Ngāti Awa station. The third
goal was the return of Mātaatua Whare, and the fourth purpose was the return
of Putāuaki maunga. One of the leading kaumātua of the time, Āniheta Rātene,
developed the concept of the bed, the blanket and the pillow. The bed symbolised
the lands confiscated, the blanket represented the Ngāti Awa farm, and the pillow
embodied Ngāti Awa claims to Kawerau and Matatā. 24
Ngāti Awa filed the raupatu claim in 1988 after the Government allowed historical
claims to be heard dating back to 1840. The claim process for Ngāti Awa enabled
access to funding, expertise and research on a scale unprecedented. This is one
of the advantages of going through the claim process via the Waitangi Tribunal;
much research is commissioned that was previously not available.
Vast amounts of historic material saw the light of day once again, after lying
dormant for generations. Not only did Ngāti Awa absorb information about what
the Crown did to the Iwi and our hapū, but we also learnt as much about ourselves,
our hapū, and how we interconnect. The entire process raised the awareness of
the people and their consciousness as to these events, slowly over time. With
the leadership of the Rūnanga managing the Tribunal process, it added to our
cohesiveness as a tribe. 25 The entire process represented a form of commemoration
for the Iwi since the events of the nineteenth century became central to the business
of the tribe recommencing as it did in 1988.
Then came the Ngāti Awa Claims Settlement Act 2005, following a period of
negotiation that began in 1995. This was the first time the Crown confessed to
their great wrongs against us by apologising and then signing a detailed historical
account of what they did to Ngāti Awa. The settlement provided some redress
to enable the Iwi to rebuild aspects of our identity, incrementally. The placing of
pou at significant sites including Te Kaokaoroa, Te Kupenga, Kaputerangi and at
Puawairua Marae also helped reinforce not only past events but our own sense of
identity. All through the period of the last thirty years, the revival of hapū wānanga,
sometimes facilitated through Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi, kept raising
awareness for our people about these events, thus, commemorating the New
Zealand Wars through a wider tribal and community audience.
Te Kupenga 2016 was the first Ngāti Awa commemorative event of the New
Zealand Wars. Te Kupenga Heritage Committee is a grassroots initiative, a group
that decided to continue to revive our traditional arts with a marae-based focus for
wānanga and hapū hui. It grew out of the support of our own people based on
other commemorations at Te Tarata, Ōrākau, Pukehinahina and Ruapekapeka. The
Committee had three objectives: to honour our history, to unite our people, and to
The Ngāti Awa Te Toki Festival was established as another grassroots initiative
in 2012. This festival showcases the revival of performing arts and in 2017 is the
third event held since 2012. The themes invariably include our tribal histories
and background, including the events of the raupatu. Kapa haka and performing
arts as a medium facilitates knowledge transfer amongst our own people with the
result that their interest and awareness of these events is revived. The retelling of
those stories in our own words, in our own way, also enhances our tribal cohesion.
Some of the groups participating have never had a haka team since 1866 and
therefore it demonstrates the impact these events can have, the whole notion of
commemorating, of reabsorbing, of re-learning, of immersing ourselves in that
history.
CONCLUSION
Despite all our history, despite the trauma of raupatu and the decades of
dispossession and disempowerment, in 2017, we are doing things. We are relearning
our histories, our customs and reo. We are graduating our people from Te Whare
Wānanga o Awanuiārangi and other institutions to act as guides and agents of
transformation and change. We are celebrating our performing arts through
the Ngāti Awa Te Toki Festival. We are reliving the events of the New Zealand
Wars through our Te Kupenga commemorations and by supporting those of our
whānaunga from around the motu. In the end, each generation must leave those
that follow stronger, more assertive, knowledgeable and confident than those that
came before them. Only then will our survival be assured and our future more
certain.
REFERENCES
1
For Ngāti Awa generally see Te Ara – The Encyclopedia of New Zealand
Māori Peoples of New Zealand: Nga Iwi o Aotearoa (Bateman
Publishing, Wellington, 2006): 149; Harvey, L “Ngāti Awa – Ngāti
Awa i ēnei rā” (2007) Te Ara – the Encyclopedia of New Zealand
<www.teara.govt.nz>.
2
Waitangi Tribunal, The Taranaki Report – Kaupapa Tuatahi (Wai 143, 1996).
3
David McCann, Whatiwhatihoe – The Waikato Raupatu Claim (Huia
Publishers, Wellington, 2001).
4
https://teara.govt.nz/en/photograph/36360/kohimarama-conference-1860.
5
“Further papers relative to Governor Sir George Grey’s plan of Native
Government. Report of Officers” [1862] I AJHR E-09 at 21.
Fig. 1. Ruakete
Fig. 3. Horomona
Fig. 5. Map showing Confiscated Land Te Moananui a Kiwa (in the Bay of
Plenty)
TE RIRI A TE KOOTI
HAARE WILLIAMS
THE PROPHECY
Ko Nukutere ko Nukutere
Ko Tawhiti, ko Tawhiti
He Atua He Atua
Ko te Pakerewha.
Three years before James Cook sighted the East Coast at Tūranganui-a-Kiwa in
1769, Te Toiroa predicted the birth life of [Te Kooti] Te Arikirangi. He told that two
boys would be born within the Ngāti Maru tribe to fathers who were close kin.
One would die. Should it be the junior survive, all would be well but the child
of the senior line would have the powers for both great good and bad. The child
of Te Turuki died and the younger child of Te Rangipatahi, lived. That child was
named Arikirangi by Te Toiroa. Fearing his son’s powers, Te Rangipatahi buried
him alive in a kumara pit but Te Kooti escaped and was adopted by Te Turuki. In
another of his songs, Te Toiroa linked the God of the white-man with the name of
the second child, in an ambiguous line:
In 1825 when Arikirangi was nine he was taken by sea by his mother, Turakau, to
see Te Toiroa, then ninety-four years of age and who lived in Mahia. As he stepped
out of the canoe, still ankle deep in water, Te Toiroa came forth and placed his
hand on the young head of Arikirangi saying:
At the time of these utterances they did not make sense but can now be seen as
predictions in the light of later events.
OHIWA
I grew up in remote New Zealand on the shores of the Ohiwa Harbour near
Opotiki. For the first twelve years I was the son of grandparents at Karaka, a
valley that looked out onto Hokianga Island. The Island has to this day held
a kind of religious awe for me, something that still bubbles within. My koro,
Rimaha, a tohunga of Ringatū, gave the Island a wide berth when we went fishing
I grew up with a dual sense of history. At home and on the marae, Te Kooti was
a revered hero, a patriot, and a prophet. At school however, Te Kooti was reviled
as a monster and a source of shame. Those of us who took leave from school from
the 11th to the 13th of each month became the butt of pungent sarcasm from both
teachers and Pākehā classmates. For me, those harrowing experiences and the
imposition of western heroes did not blemish the place of charismatic leaders like
Tūtakangahau, Tamaikoha, Kenana and Te Kooti.
TE KOOTI AT TŪRANGANUI-A-KIWA
Sunderland further describes the successes of Te Kooti. “By operating two trading
schooners between Poverty Bay, Auckland, and other centres, he brought prosperity
to his Te Aitanga-a-Mahaki and Rongowhakaata hapū. He had enemies who plotted
against him.” Colonel Thomas Porter (who was a guard during the internment
of Te Kooti at Wharekauri and who would go on and become Editor of the Otago
Daily Times) wrote “He was rather a nuisance to some of the Māori establishment
as well as the traders, [with] stories about him making off with other chiefs’ wives.”
In his later years, Te Kooti maintained that his trading rival, Captain Reade, had
aroused feeling against him, and that Te Kooti could well have been the victim of
a cruel propaganda campaign led by the Captain. Naturally his successes caused
some irritation amongst settlers in the East Coast and the hysterical fears suggested
that he was a Hauhau despite fighting alongside British troops at the siege of
Waerenga-a-Hika on the 18th of November 1865. What does seem likely is that
TE KOOTI APPREHENDED
“Te Kooti’s younger brother was with the Hau Haus in a Pa at Pukeamionga. Te
Kooti did his part at Waerenga-a-Hika against the Hau Haus until the Pa surrendered.
Then, seeing that Pukeamionga would be the next place attacked by the troops
and urged on by fraternal regard, he resolved to go and fetch his brother out from
amongst the rebels. He went accordingly with Putere, who has all along been a
staunch ally of the Government, got his brother out of the Pa and returned to
his own place.” Months afterwards, and when all was again peaceful, enemies of
Te Kooti laid information against him, asserting that his object in going into the
Hauhau Pā was not to get his brother but to carry ammunition to the enemy.
Te Kooti was at once arrested and kept prisoner for a time at Kohanga Karearea
where, without any examination or investigation into the merits of the charge
laid against him, he was summarily packed aboard a Government steamer and
It was during his time in bondage that the spirit of Te Kooti “…was aroused
by the Arch Angel Michael” that eventually led to the emergence of the Ringatū
Haahi. Ringatū, the upraised hand, was not to ward off bullets as was the popular
opinion of the time but “In praise of God.” With Ringatū, Te Kooti wanted to
place Christianity within the Māori cultural realm. The traditional mode of the
oriori (lullaby) was used to teach the scriptures from Genesis to Revelations. The
teachings and services were all committed to memory in te reo Māori.
Of buildings for worship, Robert (Boy) Biddle of Kutarere states “Te Kooti
believed that the wairua of the ancestors resided not inside a church but inside
the whare tipuna, therefore he instructed his followers not to build separate houses
for the sacraments of worship.” Sir Monita Delamere of Opotiki added “Te Kooti
discouraged the building of churches, but there is a small church house at Omaio
As Te Kooti developed his rituals for Te Haahi, so the spirit of prophecy was
revitalised. Exile sharpens this tradition and also engenders writing (in the form
of letters), but more importantly, compels the people to record their history in their
time in separation. Te Kooti recorded his experiences in a little black pocket book
which is now held by the Alexander Turnbull Library. Te Kooti wrote “February
21 1867: This was the month in which my sickness increased. Then the spirit of
God aroused me saying, ‘Arise, I am sent by God to heal you, that you may preach
the name of His people who are living as captives in their land.’” At this time, Te
Kooti was dying suffering from tuberculosis and was feverish, coughing blood
and separated from the other prisoners to die. Wikitoria, the wife of Te Waerehi,
was placed to care for him.
The holy sacraments of Ringatū are expressed on the twelfth of each month
and as well on the first of January and the first of July. The late Wiremu Tarei of
Te Teko told me “The Twelfths celebrates the 12 May 1868 when the Covenants
of the Faith were revealed to Te Kooti at Te Wharekauri. Te Kooti also received
his pardon on the 12th of February 1883. In Scriptures, the Twelfths recall the
twelve disciples, the twelve tribes of Israel (Genesis 46:15), and the twelve fruits
of the tree of life (Genesis 32:22).
The first of January and the first of July are the pillars of the Ringatū seasonal
changes derived from Exodus 40:20, the gathering for the feast held in remembrance
of the Passover or the deliverance of the people of Israel from slavery. This practice
is based on Leviticus 23:24, to commemorate the commencement of the cycle of
renewal coming out of death and thus marks the redemption of the land to God
at the beginning of spring. The harvest of the first fruits is derived from Exodus
34.22 and Deuteronomy 26:2.”
Hapati are held on Saturdays to bring the children into Te Haahi where they
participate fully in services. It is an all-day service which begins with the first
ringing of the bell at 4.00 am when everything is closed off for ‘Te Kati’. From
then until the end of the day at about 4.00 pm, no one is allowed in or out. No
one is permitted to participate in any other activity apart from worship for the
mind, spirit and the body. At the end, a service is held marked by a hakari in the
late afternoon, the festival feast. In my childhood days, no food was consumed
to give effect to fasting and meditation. Tarei added “This culture clash led the
guards at Te Wharekauri to think that Te Kooti practiced Hau Hau. The hymns,
psalms and lessons are chanted to the melodies of a pre-European style, sounding
nothing at all like European hymns. In fact, a Pākehā can be excused for thinking
them pure witchcraft. Actually, these are the sounds of a deeper Christian faith
and in a deeper Māori faith in God.”
THE DELIVERANCE
Te Kooti told his followers that the Government would send two ships to
Wharekauri and God would empower him to take them back to New Zealand.
On the 1st of July 1868, the prisoners, led by Te Kooti, overpowered their guards
and commandeered the Rifleman, a schooner, in which they made their spectacular
get away. According to Thomas Porter “He told them to look for the signs which
would indicate that their day of deliverance had arrived. It would be a day of
fine-mist and drizzle. On that day, there would be two ships out on the bay. The
third sign was the onset of fog then heavy rain and the fourth was a loud clap of
thunder directly overhead. “
When the first of the signs occurred, the men were instructed to go to the beach,
as was the practice, and gather bundles of wood for the guards. The bundles
were to be bound tightly and carried into the barracks and stacked snug, leaving
little space for movement. When the fourth sign occurred, the guards were to be
seized and tied.
The instructions from Te Kooti were clear; that there was to no bloodshed in the
uprising. “I told my people to neither steal from nor assault any person.” Everything
went to plan but unfortunately one guard was killed when he managed to throw a
tomahawk at Tamihana Teketeke. Teketeke killed the guard instantly, against the
MATAWHERO
Heni Sunderland referred to the Matawhero Incident that took place in the early
hours of the 10th of November 1868 as “…[being] the Māori way of carrying out
justice where my own grandfather, Ihimaera, fell victim while trying to evacuate his
people and Pākehā friends. Matawhero is utu, not revenge.” Te Kooti clearly used
surprise, intelligence and secrecy, as he did at Te Wharekauri, to gain advantage
over those who betrayed him and took possession of his land at Matawhero. Thirty-
eight carefully selected Māori and Pākehā people were picked out and killed in an
overnight raid. This was not random killing. After the killings, a service was held
when Te Kooti instructed his followers to dismount, sing, and read from Psalm
53:10 that “Those who live by the sword, shall die by the sword.” Tom Smiler of
Te Whanau a Kai had this to say “What happened at Matawhero need not have
happened, if only the authorities had listened to Te Kooti.” Author Witi Ihimaera
in his novel, The Matriarch (1986) recounts the events of Ngatapa that followed
Matawhero:
“After Matawhero, Te Kooti and his followers headed for the sanctuary of Te
Urewera and King Country in amongst Ngāti Maniapoto where he and his people
were given refuge under Rewi Maniapoto and Te Taonui Wahanui. They made
for the Ngatapa. On the evening of the 5th of January 1869, the defenders of the
Pa lowered themselves by vines over the steep north cliffs and escaped. Although
around two hundred and seventy were subsequently captured in the bush, one
hundred and twenty males were stripped and shot.”
PARDONED
Te Kooti was eventually pardoned at Otewa in February 1883 and given six
hundred acres of marginal scrubland at Wainui on the shores of the Ohiwa Harbour.
Te Kooti never returned to Tūranganui-a-Kiwa, which became a recurring theme
in his in songs and poems, an example of which is his oriori ‘Pine Pine Te Kura’.
DEATH
CONCLUSION
For me, the story of Te Kooti continues to stimulate the mind and awaken the
spirit. His church has endured as an altar to one man who stood firm against
overwhelming odds to keep his faith and for the survival of his people, culture,
and language. Survival took more than ordinary courage for he was a man caught
up in the abrasive encounters between Māori and Pākehā over the land wars of
the nineteenth century. Whatever the circumstances of the arrest of Te Kooti at
Waerenga-a-Hika in 1865, one certainty is that he was never given an opportunity
to answer for any case against him.
Despite a life so full of cruel paradoxes, the ultimate of ironies says Biddle was that
“Te Kooti was not opposed to the rule of law, nor was he opposed to government.
He wanted his people to be open and forgiving.” Te Kooti found peace in forgiveness
and when he received his pardon from Captain John Bryce in 1883 at Otewa, he
declared his peace with Pākehā forever.
“My peace is righteousness, truth, honour and the glory of God on all men; my
peace is from God and the Covenant of David, my promise is the promise of the
Queen. And your peace sir, is only on the tip of your tongue.” Te Kooti also found
peace and strength in Christianity. This theme was reflected in his teachings. He
told his people, “If you cannot be Ringatū, return then to the parent church; the
In any colonial conflict, the first casualty of war is the truth. It is no longer in
the interest of our nation’s future to continue the misinformation over our colonial
past. Let us go out on the offensive against those who assault the truth and facts.
There are many distortions as we here continue to provide misinformation about
New Zealand’s history. Hacking, fake news, information bubbles – all these and
more have become so prevalent in recent times, alarmingly so by those, like Reade,
seeking wealth and power. Being honest about our history does not make us
dishonest; it makes us human, it makes us care about a safe and secure future for
our kids. Being honest makes us learn, belong, succeed and grow.
FIGURES
Fig. 1 Carved House Te Tokanganui-A-Noho, Te Kuiti, Alexander Turnbull
Library
‘One day there will be a backlash – the fact that people like me who tend to
be non political are protesting probably indicates that the backlash will come
quite soon.’ 1
During the summer of 2015 a group of young people and their supporters
delivered a 12,000-signature petition to the New Zealand Parliament calling for a
statutory day of recognition for the ‘New Zealand Land Wars’.3 They also called
for this troubled period of New Zealand’s history to be officially included in the
secondary school curriculum. The organisers were a group of Māori and Pākehā
students from Ōtorohanga College, a rural secondary school in the Waikato
district, who mounted the petition after a school visit early in 2014 to Ōrākau
and Rangiaowhia, the sites of two particularly brutal clashes that took place one
hundred and fifty years earlier as part of the Waikato War (1863-64).
The largest of the New Zealand Wars, the Waikato conflict, saw over 12,000
Imperial troops and their colonial allies attacking a heavily-outnumbered civilian
population bereft of the artillery and other advantages available to the invading
force. Under these circumstances, the Waikato tribes and their allies, who had
coalesced around a Māori King in 1858, giving rise to allegations of subverting
British sovereignty, suffered heavy casualties, sometimes (as at Ōrākau and
Rangiaowhia) in highly controversial circumstances. Rangiaowhia, for example,
was considered a place of refuge for women, children and the elderly as a result
of which the attack on the settlement, early on a Sunday morning in February
1864, was condemned by Waikato Māori as ‘kōhuru’ (murder). A hut deliberately
torched by troops as its occupants were burnt alive added to the outrage.4
Yet this history was little known or acknowledged outside the descendants
of those attacked. The story of the conflict is not widely taught in New Zealand
schools; many of the historic sites have been obliterated to make way for roads
and others that survive are not even signposted.7 When the sesquicentenary of
the Waikato War was marked in 2013-14, the occasion passed by most Pākehā
New Zealanders largely unnoticed. That was perhaps not surprising given that,
according to one estimate, Government spending on the sesquicentenary was
less than one per cent of the equivalent budget earmarked for World War One
centenary commemorations.8
Their initiative in taking the students to these historical sites was also a relatively
unusual one. Various versions of New Zealand history are taught in secondary
schools but there is no formal requirement to do so and it is left largely to schools
and individual teachers to decide what, if anything, will be included.9 As a result,
in a high-autonomy and non-prescriptive curriculum environment, New Zealand
history is infrequently taught in great detail and the more difficult and violent
aspects of New Zealand’s colonial past are often omitted from school learning
programmes.10 In this respect, the decision on the part of the Ōtorohanga College
teachers to join forces with local Māori to talk to the students about the conflict
was an original way of tackling some of the public silences surrounding those
events. Most of the young people had little previous knowledge about what had
taken place and the visit made a profound impression on them. As Leah Bell, one
of the petition organisers, later wrote,
It was, Bell later recalled, ‘shocking to hear that there were massacres half an
hour from where you live, not that long ago’.12
In the weeks following the school visit, the young people began to organise the
key objectives of the petition, which included a call for national day of remembrance
for the New Zealand Wars and for the subject to be taught in schools; the latter was
an idea the Ministry of Education was to firmly oppose when the petition eventually
reached a Parliamentary Select Committee.13 Three central aims behind the petition
The petition quickly gained support from other young people in the region and
news of the students’ activism spread more widely as the organisers, working closely
with Māori tribal and local community groups, made astute use of social media,
such as Facebook,15 and sought hard-copy signatures at community events. As the
petition gathered momentum, several national and regional organisations, schools
and communities also stepped forward in support. Others had previously floated
the idea of a national day of commemoration, including during the 2014 gathering
to mark the 150th anniversary of the Ōrākau battle that was attended by the Prime
Minister; but it was the petition that became a rallying point for those seeking to
promote greater public engagement with the wars fought in New Zealand and for
broader awareness of the history underpinning the modern Treaty of Waitangi
claims settlement process.16
A small but vocal response was swiftly mounted by individuals and organisations
who lobbied and campaigned against the petition. While the number of people in
this camp was modest in comparison with the petition’s 12,000 supporters, their
heated opposition is an indication of deeper anxieties in New Zealand settler society
that are triggered when public silences surrounding the violence at the heart of
the colonial nation-building enterprise are broken. Sociologists Blee and Creasap
argue that conservative or right-wing social movements often coalesce when people
By the deadline in late April 2016, a total of 189 written submissions had been
lodged; 49 supported the petition; 138 opposed it; and, two submissions were
unclear or ambiguous.20 Those in favour of the petition generally used discourses
of reconciliation and healing to make their case arguing that widespread ignorance
about New Zealand’s colonial history has contributed significantly towards ongoing
tensions between Māori and Pākehā New Zealanders in the present. Susan
Healy, who identified herself as a Pākehā supporter of the petition, wrote of the
colonisation of New Zealand,
I think that there has been suppression of this history and it has brought
harm to Pakeha and Maori and the nation as a whole. For all of us to
have a respect for and awareness of the tangata whenua [indigenous
people] of our area and awareness of their long relationships into the
land, will build our sense of relationship to the land, and increase our
sense of pride and identity through that relationship. Knowing the
history of the struggles over land since colonisation is another means
of embracing our history and working for true reconciliation. 21
Supporters of the petition also pointed out that the wars had had a major impact
on the development of New Zealand and were therefore of historical importance. A
national day of memorial, and teaching the history of these wars in schools, would
from this perspective provide appropriate acknowledgement of the significance of
these conflicts. In this way a renewed national identity would be forged through
bicultural reconciliation.
Those who opposed the petition, on the other hand, were unconvinced by this
view of the past and expressed strongly worded concerns that New Zealand’s history
was being radically rewritten to support the views of interest groups associated
with the Treaty claims process:
These opponents perceived the petition as being deeply divisive. Many within
this group expressed a strong conviction that Māori historical narratives have been
disproportionately favoured and indulged by successive Governments and as a
result Māori now hold the ‘whip hand’ of representational power. In this respect,
they followed the line taken by many other conservative social movements that
reject political explanations of civil disharmony and social break-down in favour
of ‘reductive culturalist’ accounts.24 Associate Professor Alana Lentin suggests that
this is a form of culturalisation that eschews historical or political interpretations
of social and political unrest and focuses instead on dissatisfaction with state
‘diversity’ initiatives or politics. As one opponent of the petition wrote,
Many other opponents of the petition expressed similar views and were especially
New Zealand’s history is increasingly losing touch with the facts (and
qualified historians) and is increasingly based on activists’ opinions.
This is very evident in the emotional language and creative stories now
being used in the re-telling of the land wars history.
Several submitters argued that the petition was based on factually inaccurate
versions of history and that the conflicts of the nineteenth century were more a
matter of the Crown quelling tribal rebellions that threatened the rule of law. As
one submitter wrote (employing language echoed in many other submissions):
Ironically, many historians tend to also reject or question the ‘land wars’ label as
an outdated one, preferring to follow the lead of James Belich (and, much earlier,
James Cowan) in describing these conflicts as the New Zealand Wars, since land
was only one of the factors behind the wars. 29
But this is one of the few points of (coincidental) common ground, with the
anti-petition submitters steadfastly rejecting the last fifty years’ historiography
as unreliable and tendentious ‘revisionism’. And so, the idea that Māori did not
cede sovereignty under the Treaty, but rather understood the Crown to have been
granted a more limited ‘kāwanatanga’ (governance) role is ignored, as is the notion
that there was no rebellion against the Crown.30 Although an official commission
of inquiry had partly endorsed this latter view as early as 1927 (concluding, for
example, that Taranaki Māori ‘were treated as rebels and war declared against
them before they had engaged in rebellion of any kind’), 31 anti-Treatyism of the
kind reflected in the submissions opposing the petition is grounded in a selective
reading of a small number of sources and not on a comprehensive grasp of the wider
history.32 That kind of selectivity is helpful in this instance, given the difficulty
involved in branding an early twentieth century royal commission of inquiry as
part of a ‘politically correct’ campaign of historical revisionism.
A number of the submitters were themselves confused about the battles waged
during the colonial era, with several mixing up the Musket Wars that took place
between 1818 and the 1830s with the later New Zealand Wars.33 Their confusion
over the nature of the conflicts ironically served to highlight the need for precisely
the kind of changes to the education curriculum that the petitioners were calling
for (although an analysis of biographical information contained in the anti-petition
submissions suggests that a disproportionately large number came from older
Pākehā males).34
Prior to the Māori Affairs Committee reporting back on the petition organised by
the Ōtorohanga College students, the Government decided to jump the gun and
make its own announcement. On the 19th of August 2016, New Zealand’s then
Deputy Prime Minister, Bill English, announced that a national day of remembrance
(Rā Maumahara) would be set in place. In a speech to Waikato-Tainui on the day
that the Crown returned a portion of the Rangiriri battle site back into Māori
ownership, English told those assembled that,
It was soon clarified that this would not be a public holiday and that the selection
of the day would be a matter for negotiation with Iwi leaders from those tribes
involved in the New Zealand Wars in the nineteenth century. Mindful of avoiding
placing the focus on a single war or battle, tribal representatives indicated their
preference for a date that is not the anniversary of any particular engagement but
rather would be set aside to remember all of the conflicts within New Zealand.41
This would not displace local commemorations of significant events, such as
Parihaka Day (5th of November), marking the anniversary of the 1881 invasion by
the Armed Constabulary of the Taranaki settlement of Parihaka, where prophets Te
Whiti-o-Rongomai and Tohu Kakahi had led a campaign of non-violent resistance
to land confiscations.42
In October 2016 it was announced that the 28th of October had been selected
as the date for the national day of commemoration.43 As Iwi representatives had
previously signalled, it did not mark the anniversary of any battle. Instead, this
was the date in 1835 when northern rangatira had first signed the Declaration of
Independence (He Whakaputanga), asserting the sovereign authority of Māori
over New Zealand. In this way, the date serves as a reminder of the autonomy and
authority that Māori fought to protect during the New Zealand Wars.44
The backlash has continued, although opponents of the petition have struggled
to gain widespread support for their views. In 2016 a new organisation known as
‘Hobson’s Pledge’ was founded to ‘arrest the decline into irreversible separatism’.45
Meanwhile, a petition was launched by Muriel Newman, a member of a conservative
think-tank, with the aim of opposing the day of commemoration. It had only limited
success in gaining any significant momentum (as, indeed, has the Hobson’s Pledge
organisation). Despite a target of 12,000 signatures that would symbolically give
it a similar level of support to the original Ōtorohanga College petition, at the time
of writing it had attracted fewer than 1800 names. 46
Meanwhile, on the 28th of October 2017 the first Rā Maumahara was held, with
the focus of the inaugural commemorations being Ruapekapeka, the site of the final
battle of the Northern War (1845-46). Radio New Zealand commissioned a special
For much of the twentieth century, Pākehā liked to boast that they lived in a
nation with the greatest ‘race relations’ in the world.49 That view was reinforced
in school text books such as the widely-distributed ‘Our Country’s Story’ (1963),
which claimed that there was ‘no country in the world where two races of different
colour live together with more goodwill towards each other’.50
But as historians and Māori activists started to cast these wars in an altogether
more negative light by the 1970s, this older myth became much more difficult to
sustain. Now that it was no longer acceptable to celebrate the wars, many Pākehā
became distinctly nervous whenever these were mentioned. An ‘uncomfortable
silence’ instead descended over the topic, at least within mainstream Pākehā circles,
and when this was challenged in ways that middle New Zealand deemed disquieting,
significant controversy often resulted.
Far from having valid historical claims against the New Zealand Crown, Māori
had, these critics argued, actually received special treatment.55 In this conception,
the settlement of New Zealand was almost uniquely benevolent, and those who
challenged such a view only needed to look across the Tasman Sea to Australia,
where the Aboriginal population had by contrast been treated appallingly.56 This
served to underline the supposedly virtuous nature of settler colonialism in
New Zealand – a view notoriously reinforced in an article that asked why ‘race
relations’ in New Zealand were better than in South Africa, South Australia or South
Dakota.57 From this stance, Māori who queried their status as the beneficiaries of
benevolent colonialism were simply being ungrateful, or denying the facts of history,
especially when their ‘miserable’ and ‘barbaric’ lives prior to British intervention
were contrasted with the enlightened and kind treatment they received afterwards,
in effect (as these writers believed) lifting Māori out of their wretched pre-contact
existences. British settler colonialism, they maintained, ‘saved Maori, not only from
themselves, but from some other less humane coloniser’.58
The notion of Māori as privileged has gained support from other quarters and
at times has been adopted by politician’s intent on running populist, dog-whistle
campaigns. In January 2004 the then leader of New Zealand’s National Party
delivered a blistering speech to members of the Orewa Rotary Club in which the
And that was reflected in the ongoing resistance of many non-Māori New
Zealanders to even identify or accept being labelled as Pākehā (a long running myth
had it that the term originally meant ‘white pig’ or ‘bugger off’).61 Even statisticians
came under pressure from those insisting that ‘we’re all New Zealanders’. In the
2006 census a ‘New Zealander’ category was added to the ethnicity question, even
though this is not a meaningful ethnic category (in previous censuses respondents
who had written in ‘New Zealander’ under the ‘Other’ category were classed as
‘New Zealand European’, Pākehā not having made its way into the forms either,
except fleetingly in 1996). 62
Meanwhile, many Pākehā have called for Waitangi Day to be replaced by Anzac
Day as the national day. Whereas Anzac Day is perceived as a straightforward
celebration of heroic sacrifice and other desirable national traits, the Waitangi
anniversary is seen by many Pākehā as divisive, complicating efforts to celebrate
the nation through awkward reminders of a more troubled past. As Associate
Professor Sarah Maddison has noted in relation to Australia, the collective guilt that
awareness of such a past conjures can lead some members of the dominant group
to forms of outright denial. In this way, ‘a seemingly unproblematic desire to feel
good about the group or nation to which one belongs can lead to the development
of explanations and justifications for immoral and unjust actions in the past’.65
Although New Zealand has not experienced its own, full-blown ‘history wars’, for
Pākehā troubled by reminders of past internal conflicts, proposals to memorialise
these in various ways, including a national day of commemoration, constituted
yet another front on which it was necessary to push back against the assault on
older, simpler and more rosy conceptions of national identity. Enough is enough,
they declared.
Although the number of people actively opposing the petition was small, their
views can be seen to carry more weight than this might otherwise imply. References
to Māori cannibalism, and to the ‘primitive’ nature of pre-contact Māori society,
in some of the submissions could be seen as representative of the extreme end
of a Pākehā backlash against developments in New Zealand society over the past
forty years that have seen Māori viewpoints and interests accommodated to a
limited extent after more than a century of marginalisation and dispossession.66
If many New Zealanders have welcomed this trend, and supported moves such
as the payment of limited redress to Māori tribes in compensation for historical
land losses and other breaches of the Treaty of Waitangi, for others these actions
have been deeply discomforting.67 While 55% of respondents to a 2011 survey
agreed with the statement that the Treaty of Waitangi ‘is New Zealand’s founding
document’, for example, 21% disagreed and a further 24% gave a neutral opinion
(on a sliding scale of one to five).68 For some (but certainly not all) older Pākehā
In this respect the petition organised by the Ōtorohanga College students could
be seen at least in part as pitting Māori and Pākehā youth against older white
(and predominantly male) New Zealanders. In their lifetimes, many of the latter
had witnessed a period of bewildering change in New Zealand society generally,
as old certainties and consensus gave way to a time of conflict and turmoil. In
these circumstances, it was hardly surprising if some yearned for a return to the
imagined simpler days of their own youth. By contrast, today’s young people,
more comfortably bicultural and accepting of diversity and difference, highlight
the emergence of new and more nuanced national identities based in part on an
honest reappraisal of the realities of settler colonialism in nineteenth century
New Zealand. Unsettling settler colonial narratives of the past, both within New
Zealand and elsewhere, requires a ‘deeper historical consciousness’ that confronts
those realities.70
The Ōtorohanga College students remind us that young people may be agents
for that change provided they can gain some exposure to the history that often
lies hidden beneath the comforting myths.
REFERENCES
1
Paul Howes, Submission to Māori Affairs Committee: Petition of Waimarama
Anderson and Leah Bell. Wellington, New Zealand: New Zealand
Parliament. Posted 4 May 2016, https://www.parliament.nz/mi/pb/
sc/submissions-and-advice/document/0SCMA_EVI_51DBHOH_
PET68056_1_A502590/paul-howes (accessed 26 October 2016).
2
An earlier version of this chapter was published as ‘Settler Colonial History,
Commemoration and White Backlash: Remembering the New
Zealand Wars’, Settler Colonial Studies (published online 22 January
2017), http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/220147
3X.2017.1279831
3
In the interests of full disclosure, the authors of this paper were both
signatories to the Ōtorohanga College petition but did not make
submissions on it.
FIGURES
Fig.1&2 Otorohanga College students presenting a 13,000 signature petition to
Parliament. Fairfax Media.
TE KAPEHU O TŪ-MATA-UENGA
WAY FINDING AS A MEANS OF
REMBERING THE PAST
HARAWIRA PEARLESS
INTRODUCTION
Physical field research is the platform upon which any return visitation
is based but to find the way other tools are necessary. These include
understanding the local political and security situation, basic local language
skills, and a thorough understanding of religious observances. Wayfinding
is multifaceted and requires the broadest of appreciations, dependent
on what historical information is known and the ability to gain access to
geographic locations.
The central element of wayfinding is being able to ‘find the way’ and
needless to say a compass and a map are essential. A hand-held GPS is
also useful but way finding in the context of this chapter denotes that
Te Kapehu o Tu Mata Unega is a weigh finding aid that provides the wakapapa
and geographic locations of the 28th Māori Battalion’s significant battle grounds,
burial sites, memorials, gallantry awards, state honours and mentions in dispatches.
The design of a weigh finding aid for any navigator belongs to the way finder. The
simplicity or complexity of the way finding aid also belongs to the way finder and
can be either coded or uncoded and may or may not include marginal information.
The marginal information provides the numerous elements that assist the holder of
the Kapehu to fully understand and interpret the instrument and to find the way.
In referencing ‘coding’ in the context of this chapter, I am referring to the inclusion
of the metaphysical elements such as nihiniho tuhua, haehae, koi, mango pare and
poroiwi kaheke. These are explanations of marginal information to compliment
the 28th Māori Battalion’s campaign and chronology of battles.
MARGINAL INFORMATION
1. ‘Nihoniho Tuhua’ represents the underworld element and are the obsidian
like teeth of Hine-nui-te-pō;
4. ‘Mate Papa’ is the cross element reflecting the 28th Māori Battalion’s number
of war dead by campaign;
5. ‘Maia Papa’ is the medal element representing the 28th Māori Battalion’s
number of gallantry awards by campaign;
6. ‘Kauhanga riri motuhake a pae pakanga’ represents the 28th Māori Battalion’s
significant battle grounds by campaign;
7. ‘Mangopare’ represents the warrior element within each of the 28th Māori
Battalion campaigns;
8. ‘Nga Poroiwi Kaheke’ represents the unknown final resting places of number
of the 28th Māori Battalion soldiers lost in action;
9. ‘Te Koi’, the pivot point of the compass, is identified by the Roman numerals
XXVIII and refers directly to the 28th Māori Battalion’s battle honours
nomenclature.
These representations overlay onto the battle nomenclature of the 28th Māori
Battalion and are representative of the acknowledgement that a kaupapa Māori
element is central to how we remember and that our collective remembrances
are centered on both physical and metaphysical elements which are inseparable.
Te Korekore o te Kapehu.
Ko te Karukaru kaheke
Ko te Poroiwi kaheke
Ko te Kahikatoa kaheke
Te Takapau o Tū-mata-uenga e
Te Karukaru kaheke references to where the blood of our tūpuna fell on the
battle grounds; Te Poroiwi kaheke references to where the bones of the 28th Māori
Battalion have fallen and are memorialised; Te Kahikatoa kaheke references how
and where the 28th Māori Battalion have been acknowledged for gallantry; Te
Hongihongi Mata a Papa references our invocation of pilgrimage; and Te Takapau
a Tu Mata Unega refers to the land as being the sleeping mat of Tū-mata-uenga.
CONCLUSION
While November 11th signifies the conclusion of our active period of World War
One 1914-1918, Māori do not focus on this period in isolation. It is a component
of a far broader recollection of the Maori commitment to conflict, pre-colonial, the
land war period, the Boer War, the First and Second World Wars, Japan, Borneo,
Malaya, Vietnam, Peace Keeping and humanitarian operations, and private security
operations worldwide.