New Zealand’s Treaty of Waitangi — which upholds Maori rights over their land — has long been seen as an important precedent in the global fight for recognition of First Nations people.
That is now under threat from a draft law that seeks to redefine the principles of the 1840 agreement between hundreds of Maori chiefs and the British Crown. The divisive move drew tens of thousands of protesters outside New Zealand’s parliament in Wellington on Tuesday in one of the largest demonstrations in the nation’s history. Even 184 years later, the shadow of the empire still hangs over the former colony.
Although it is unlikely to ever become law — New Zealand Prime Minister Christopher Luxon’s National Party has said it would not support the bill beyond the first reading which it already passed — it has brought an ugly side of Kiwi life to the surface: race politics. The leader’s party sits in a conservative coalition, joined by the right-of-center ACT Party and the New Zealand Party. To get ACT’s support, Luxon agreed to allow the bill to be deliberated, acknowledging internal debate had caused “tension.”
The Maori are not sitting by quietly. In scenes that have now gone viral across the world, Maori MP Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke led her colleagues in a haka, a traditional Maori dance performed in battles and ceremonies that has been made famous by the All Blacks rugby team. It brought Parliament to a halt on Thursday last week, briefly stopping members from voting on the Treaty Principles Bill, which is now open for public submissions.
The controversy over one of the nation’s founding documents touches a raw nerve. The agreement has two versions, one in English and the other in Maori, leaving the two sides with differing interpretations about what it means in practice for indigenous rights. The confusing arrangement put much of the power in the hands of the Crown. By the mid-20th century, Maori owned only a fraction of their original land. Just like colonized First Nations populations elsewhere, they became marginalized minorities in their own country.
Some redress was granted in the 1960s and 70s under a reparations tribunal, and as the treaty’s core values were gradually incorporated into national laws. As a result, indigenous communities in New Zealand are mostly better off than their Australian, Canadian and US counterparts, with more representation in government and public life. However, this progress risks being undone. Luxon’s new center-right coalition government, which took office last year, has unwound some of the policies that gave the community prominence.
A Guardian investigation in July revealed the effect of legislative and policy changes in six key areas, ranging from health, treaty and language, justice, social and housing, to environment and education, that experts say would adversely impact Maori and might deepen existing inequalities. The administration also plans to wind back world-leading anti-smoking laws that would have made it illegal for anyone born after 2008 to buy cigarettes — a decision experts say would affect the community more, because of higher smoking rates than other New Zealanders.
Maori make up about 20 percent of New Zealand’s 5 million people, but are worse off in comparison to fellow citizens. They are jailed in much higher numbers, accounting for more than half of the people in prison, and are disproportionately represented in crime and poverty statistics. The community also fares badly when it comes to life expectancy rates, with Maori males at the bottom of the table.
Despite that, ACT leader David Seymour, who has Maori ancestry, said the community gets greater privileges on the basis of race. He wants to redefine the founding document, and is pushing for “equal rights” for all, contending that special provisions for people based on ethnic origins are divisive.
For some Kiwis, Seymour’s argument might resonate. Perhaps they feel the Maori hold unfair advantage over land claims and fishing rights. For those with no historical context, these perceived privileges chafe.
However, Seymour’s assertions are Trumpian in nature, as Sir Ian Taylor, a prominent tech entrepreneur and the founder and managing director of Animation Research Ltd, said in a recent editorial.
“Seymour is setting himself up as the victim, the man of the common people,” he wrote. “It’s a role he played to perfection on the first reading of his bill, even going as far as suggesting that members of the Maori party threatened to shoot him with their gestures. Ring any bells?”
New Zealanders are right to be wary of these cynical political games. Even if Seymour does not succeed in getting the treaty renegotiated, he has ignited an emotive issue that he would use to win support from more conservative voters ahead of elections in 2026.
Education, particularly about the atrocities of the empire, is one way out. Under the administration of former New Zealand prime minister Jacinda Ardern, the curriculum was changed to ensure that from last year, schoolchildren would understand colonization’s lasting effects. An honest reckoning is necessary, no matter how uncomfortable. In this way, New Zealand is far ahead of the UK, its former colonial master, which until today struggles to come to terms with the legacy of imperialism.
Discussions about why the Maori are disproportionately represented in poverty and prison metrics also need to take place. None of this is easy, but it could bring to the surface viewpoints that need to be carefully thrashed out, before they are exploited for political gain. The alternative is an environment where Seymour’s dangerous rhetoric can thrive.
From India to Indonesia, colonial history has been difficult to confront. The debate over indigenous rights shows how deep these old wounds can run. In comparison to their global counterparts, Kiwis are still doing relatively well. It would be a tragedy to lose so much progress.
Karishma Vaswani is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Asia politics with a special focus on China. Previously, she was the BBC’s lead Asia presenter and worked for the BBC across Asia and South Asia for two decades.
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,
RSS