Success Came Suddenly

Te Ao Hou, December 1957, Page 11

Success Came Suddenly In 1947, with the post of Under-Secretary of the Native Department about to fall vacant, the Maori people thought the time had arrived-when a Maori should get this appointment. The Minister at the time was the Rt. Hon. Peter Fraser, who was sympathetic to the request. Some Maori leaders, notably from Hawkes Bay and the Waikato, recommended Tipi Tainui Ropiha as a suitable representative of the race. The man they chose had never been interested in politics, he was not known as an orator on the

maraes of New Zealand. His role had been that of a surveyor, a helper in land development. So they intimately knew his attitude to land, to Maori land, and this attitude was unique. Coming from Hawkes Bay, where most Maoris lost their land heritage early through land sales, he could understand the passionate attachment of people to their land, yet stood outside it to a certain extent. He had spent most of his life as a surveyor and land development officer and had imbided a mathematical and economic attitude to land, without ever losing the sentiment about it surrounding him during his childhood. From his speaking about land the elders saw the depth of his feeling as well as a forcefulness driving to a new, more productive and more satisfying use of the land. They encouraged Mr Ropiha to apply for the job of Assistant Under-Secretary. Mr Fraser asked for a public service report and when this was favourable called for an interview. Mr Ropiha described this crucial moment in his life during his farewell at Ngati Poneke Hall in Wellington. He arrived from Te Kuiti with lumbago. Mr Fraser peered at the public service report, holding it close to his face, and read a few odd phrases out aloud: ‘Successfully organised land development’. Then he looked hard at his prospective under-secretary and said: ‘I detest successful men. They usually succeed by walking over others. Mr Ropiha, if I ever find you riding roughshod over the Maori people, I'll send you back to Te Kuiti on your ear.’ Mr Ropiha looked very distressed. He thought of the long ten years stretching before him until his retirement, and the sort of talk he might have to listen to at the Minister's office. At once, his lumbago got ten times worse. The Prime Minister saw the mute shock on Mr Ropiha's face, changed his tone and said: ‘Young man, I think you and I will get on well together. Come and have lunch with me today.’