NEW BOOKS

Kaea, Issue 2, 1 March 1980, Page 26

NEW BOOKS

Christmas saw the publication of several interesting new books. If you received any book tokens as presents and haven’t known what to get with them, maybe something reviewed here will interest you. Two books on Rua Kenana are reviewed by Sydney Melbourne. Paul Potiki looks at Tony Simpson’s controversial Te Riri Pakeha, and Marama Martin talks about the autobiography of “Te Maari”.

THEY CALLED ME TE MAARI Florence Harsant Whitcoulls Publishers: $9.95

Another autobiography to add to the list everyone is writing an autobiography. But not everyone travelled with Satan (“I’m not sure about him, but I think I can win his confidence”) from Tokomaru Bay, around the East Coast of the North Island, through the Bay of Plenty to Waihi. They Called Me Te Maari really began with the Radio New Zealand “Spectrum” series. Florence Harsant, nee Woodhead, a European New Zealander, talked to Alwyn Owen about her life in Maori communities in the early 1900 s. Although the written word doesn’t quite give us the warmth and spontaneity of those radio programmes, it still does very well. Florence Harsant is not a stylish writer. The latter part of the book consists largely of excerpts from her journal. In 1905 the Woodnead family moved from Taranaki to Waitahanui on Lake Taupo, a journey which meant travel by sea, rail, horse-drawn coach and lake steamer. Florence was fourteen, and life at Waitahanui provided the opportunity for her to learn Maori. She became a fluent speaker and a sympathetic observer of Maori protocol and procedure. She established friendships which remained warm and firm, and which helped give her the entree to many Maori communities.

Florence trained and worked for the Anglican Mission at Whakarewarewa. She met many people whose names are well known. Dame Nellie Melba gets a special mention but not one to dwell on! Next move for the Woodhead family was to Otamatea on the Kaipara Harbour, and it was there that Florence taught school for a time. She “wasn’t fond of school teaching” and when she heard that the Women’s Christian Temperance Union were looking for an organiser among Maori women, decided that this was what she wanted. The work meant setting up W.C.T.U. groups in Maori communities and giving help in hygiene, child care and whatever else was necessary. She would often be on her own, moving from district to district, and very much dependent on the Maori people for warmth and hospitality. “It was a wonderful prospect and I accepted

it happily.” Extracts from her journals while working for the W.C.T.U. make up a good part of her story from here. Travel (mostly horseback), vagaries of the weather, and quality of accommodation (very varied) are described at length and usually with humour. Did you know there was a smallpox epidemic in the far north of New Zealand in 1913? Florence Woodhead rode through the middle of it not always happily, but it didn’t stop her. She saw the gum fields, the camps, and the poor living conditions of women and children. Her own living conditions weren’t always marvellous either, but in March 1914 she set out on another journey from Gisborne to Waihi via the East Coast- and coastal Bay of Plenty. It was at Tokomaru Bay that Florence met Satan. Florence was obviously a skilled horsewoman. She had to be, to cope with Satan. She calls him a “wretched, reluctant animal, an evil natured, black hearted pack horse.” Six months and 1600 kilometres later Florence Woodhouse was home in Otamatea. Her last journey for the W.C.T.U. was to the Maori settlements up the Wanganui River. After that, ill health forced her to resign as Maori organiser for the Union. Florence Harsant writes of the end of World War I, the Spanish ’flu epidemic, her marriage and life on the Coromandel Peninsula. It was pioneer life with laundry day at the creek, and toilets a short walk from the house. She takes us through the birth of her children, the arrival of electric power, World War II when she was a postmistress, and so to 1975. They Called Me Te Maari is a record of New Zealand history not the imaginings of a scholar but the factual account of a woman’s life, spanning sixty-five years. Florence Harsant mentions her regret a) not recording the stories so freely told to her. Indeed it is now too late and the elders have gone, taking their store of riches with them. How many times have I, and many of my contemporaries, used those same words. At least Florence Harsant has given us her own story.

Map.ama Martin

MIHAIA Judith Binney, Gillian Chaplin and Craig Wallace Oxford University Press: $13.50 paperback $19.95 hardback

RUA AND THE MAORI MILLENNIUM Peter Webster Price Milburn/Victoria University Press: SIB.OO

For many years the writing of non-fiction dealing with Maori themes, Maori society, Maori history and Maori politics has been the almost exclusive preserve of Pakeha historians and anthropologists. The new publications Mihaia and Rua and the Maori Millennium are no exception. For some, reason, the Maori arena has been largely ignored by other disciplines, such as political science and psychology. Even more noticeable is the lack of Maori scholars entering this field of study with disciplined zeal. As a result, Maori experiences and reactions to the advent oi western dominance will continue to be interpreted in western terms.

Certain reactions to these two books from an increasingly critical Maori readership can be predicted. Hopefully there will be more than regurgitation of those Maori protests about the intrusion of Pakeha historians, as Michael King experienced with Te Puea. Judith Binney states, “the publication of two discrete studies of Rua in the same year certainly adds spice to New Zealand historiography”. The study of Rua by an historian and an anthropologist provide interesting comparison not only in terms of the theoretical issues raised by them, but also in their presentation and styles of language. Both these studies are presented from a point of view that begins with the analysis of the meaning of Rua’s millennium the thousand years when Satan would be overcome and Christ’s saints would deliver the promise of good things to come on earth. Rua’s millennium applied, of course, to the Tuhoe people, they had been left partly leaderless by the decay of traditional society, and were suffering from uncertainty about the future of their environment, threatened as it was by the intrusions of the Pakeha. Rua Kenana rose as the new prophet to provide assurance of the people’s survival and security. Binney and Webster attempt to come to terms with the historical background peculiar to Tuhoe, before setting the movement in the wider mainstream of New Zealand’s social, economic and political developments of that time. At the end of the nineteenth century the Tuhoe emerged bitter about the injustices they had suffered after theLand Wars. They were unsure of the amount of control they would have over their own lands and destiny, and suspicious of encroaching Pakeha laws and culture. The death of Te Turuki (Te

Kooti) left his followers leaderless, but not without hope. Te Turuki foretold the emergence of a successor from the mountains as the new prophet of the people. Rua Kenana claimed to be this new prophet and proclaimed his vision of the future, promising to return to the Tuhoe control of their own world.

Both Binney and Webster identify the forces and elements within Rua’s movement that make up its structure, its symbols, its content and its organisation. Then they show how the movement assisted people to adapt to their own life problems, their own environmental circumstances and the intrusion of

another culture

Potential readers may anticipate duplication of material as a result of these two studies appearing so close together. Some duplication is inevitable, but the books are complementary rather than repetitive. They differ in their intentions and interpretative frameworks. Mihaia is an historical and pictorial biography while Rua and the Maori Millennium looks at Rua’s experiences within the light of worldwide millenarianism. Rua Kenana was one of many Maori prophets, and his movement shared similarities with other messianic movements in the world. These movements generally incorporated tribal, Jewish and Christian elements. They assist the people to believe in themselves, to organise and to struggle for their social, economic and political survival. Binney and Webster point out that while the phenomenon of millenarianism is universal, individul cultures transform it into their own context.

Rua’s hopes and expectations for the Tuhoe people began with his gift as a healer and his journey into the wilderness of Maungapohatu. It was here under the shelter of the mountain that the community of New Jerusalem was built. While for Tuhoe the settlement symbolised the process by which faith in themselves was restored, it rapidly came to be regarded as a direct challenge by

Below Hiona, Rua’s council house at Maungapohatu. Of unusual design and decoration, it was (and still is) often described by ignorant Pakeha as “Rua’s temple”.

government and the land-hungry Pakeha that government represented. In 1916 it was the target of a police raid. The visions of Rua (as other millennial dreams) are complex and full of images signifying many things at once. They were a blend of many different factors, with influences both spiritual and physical. They acted as a mediator between grievances and possible solutions. The visions were very much a Eart of Rua’s weaponry for the struggle of is people. His skill and cunning were not only expressed in the content of these visions but also in the way he used them in rites, ceremonies and day-to-day procedures. They guided the people in work and inspired them artistically. Rua’s visions merged with other memories of the tribe’s ancestors in the consciousness of the people. The emotional impact of this body of visions was immense and their transformation from dream to reality cannot be measured in physical terms alone. Both these studies by Binney and Webster, while concentrating on the

idealism that surrounded Rua’s movement, also reveal contradictions and inconsistencies in Rua’s behaviour. His claim to be the new messiah remained unchallenged, but some of his deeds were questionable for example he effectively encouraged land sales. But his actions are not the only ones that come under scrutiny. The police raid on Maungapohatu throws serious doubts on the explanations and actions of the police and especially of their superiors at the time. Whatever one feels of Rua’s deeds, he did provide a day-to-day sense of purpose. To this day his teachings are a source of support, and their core is as relevant today as it was then that the Maori should work on their own land for their own economic and cultural survival and independence from the Pakeha. We cannot just focus on the past symbolised by the decaying remains of Rua’s settlement. Millenarianism is a continuing force. The realisation of an alternative Maori vision is arising from the spiritual vacuum and alienation

created by urban settlements, the depersonalisation of bureaucracy and the desertion of the knowledge that remains in rural areas. But as Bastion Point revealed, centralised power is no more sympathetic than it was in 1916. Many unresolved questions have answers that lie with people Binney and Webster saw and lived with. Other answers lie hidden in unexplained symbols or symbols overlooked in the pursuit of preconceived goals. The informants seem to have been used just to fill in the gaps. No attempt was made to use informants to discover the influence of Rua in shaping present-day attitudes, beliefs or aspirations of those born into this historical background. As a guide to these two studies, Rua and the Maori Millennium by Peter Webster has more of an academic presentation; Mihaia, aided by its pictorial presentation, has more popular appeal and provides tangible memorials of the Tuhoe ancestors.

I have gained much from these two books. They both have given me insight into parts of my own historical origins. I am in debt to both works for the way they have preserved and presented Rua’s dreams and allowed me to participate in them.

Sydney Melbourne

TE RIRI PAKEHA: The White Man’s Anger Tony Simpson Alister Taylor Publishers: $12.95

The aim of this book is found in the last paragraph of the introduction. It is clearly written by a Pakeha for Pakehas, and in the concluding pages this is made very clear by frequent use of the words “we Pakeha” and “them” meaning the Maori. With this in mind the book becomes a better book than I thought it might be on first reading, when I suppose I wore my Maori hat and found it easy to be “resentful” and “sullen” as Simpson says we often are in the face of Pakeha patronage. In order to do the book and writer justice, I felt obliged to read it again and to do so, if I could, wearing a non-Maori hat.

The books tells Maori little that they do not already know about their own land problems but it does piece together policy, legislation ana administrative chicanery on a broad canvas. I have the feeling that little in the book was new to me but to the well-meaning, academic yet ill-informed and often deliberately misinformed Pakeha, Tony Simpson may well become unpopular because he will have disturbed some people’s precious illusions about New Zealand and its multi-culturism.

I fear that while Maori readers will

applaud the exposures and will probably identify with those land deals which affect them and their families personally, they will see the work as essentially one by an outsider. If Simpson had had a base in Maoridom from which to launch his denunciation of colonisation in New Zealand, Maori would probably have received it better. As it is, however, I hope they will see it for what it is a thoroughly professional objective consideration of facts, opinions and conclusions augmented by a critical analysis of the techniques used by the administration to facilitate the alienation of Maori land.

In his introduction the writer tells us how his conventional education dealt with Maori and their place in our nation’s story. He was exposed to the same kind of potted historical nonsense that I was and which I suppose still passes for history in our primary schools. I remember some years ago being interviewed in Australia by a young reporter from the Australian because I had been critical of Australian racial policies and, in particular, of the apparent policy of ethnic extermination of the Aborigine. The reporter seemed surprised that I should know much about this vanishing race. In conversation I asked what he knew about them and especially what he had been taught about them in school. It seems that not only was he taught nothing but he said that the official attitude was that the Australian Aborigine (he said Abo) was indeed a non-person. At the time I was appalled and said so. Today I am not so sure. I feel it might be better for the Maori if in the histories and school curricula they ceased to exist rather than to continue to be the subject of so much misinformation which is a barrier to real inter-racial understanding. Simpson’s book aims to correct Pakeha misconceptions about New Zealand’s history and the Maori place in it. Many young Maori people would also benefit from this book. The bulk of the

book deals with the years prior to the turn of the century when the land issues and the wars over them were primary. Since then social factors and the complexity of the whole national and international situation make analyses so much more difficult, and this section of the book which consists of only about 30 pages appears something of an afterthought. This perhaps is understandable when one remembers that Simpson has no base in Maoridom. Research in the scrum of modern Maoridom is much more difficult than researching a bibliography. One has to talk to people rather than read the views of other observers. Nevertheless, Simpson is a highly skilled researcher and I am pleased to see that he has also tackled some of the implications of more recent legislation such as the disinheritance measures contained in the Acts of 1953 and 1967. He also draws conclusions about crime, education, health, employment, incomes and party politics. The thrust of the last fifty years is the platform from which the future of the race will be launched. Fifty years ago it seemed as if the Maori would become a sort of brown Pakeha because of policies of assimilation. The Department of Maori Affairs has gone through many agonising reappraisals in the last fifty or sixty years I suppose in much the same way that all custodians of the true faith have had to shift ground over the ages to meet the demands of changing times. The trend towards brown Pakeha status seems to be arrested and a refreshing new Maoriness is emerging. Tony Simpson’s final chapter is called “The New Net Goes Fishing”. In 1900 the new net which went afishing was the “Young Maori Party” led by Ngata, Buck, Carroll and Pomare. These were all politicians and were all products of an elitist upbringing, and all are denounced by Simpson in his book. I have already indicated that research in this new era is much more difficult than in respect of the period of colonisation. It is difficult and even risky to draw conclusions because even before they are published they could be shown to be totally wrong. It is much safer to display wisdom after the event. Tony Simpson has wisely chosen to review a past which cannot creep up on him and prove him wrong. I hope, however, that someone soon will go into the boilerhouse of Maoridom and analyse the present and from his analysis project the future, even if his prediction turns out to be wrong. Paul Potiki

One book not to buy is Mrs Byrne’s Dictionary, published by Granada Paperbacks. The very last entry in the dictionary is the word zzxjoanw, which the author claims is “a Maori drum”. If Mrs Byrne had done her homework she would know that fifty per cent of the letters in the word do not even exist in the language, and even if they did they could not possibly exist in this combination, and she would know too that there is really no such thing as a Maori drum. Maybe there’s no such word either. Our thanks to Mr Trefor Davis for bringing this idiocy to our attention.