Dun Mihaka on Maori protests

Tu Tangata, Issue 19, 1 August 1984, Page 14

Dun Mihaka on Maori protests

by Jenny Ruth

Rear ends and other odds

His bared bottom received worldwide coverage during last year’s royal visit. It gained exposure again this year at the New Zealand Party conference.

Unashamedly unemployed, Te Ringa Mangu (Dun) Mihaka, 43, is a maori activist, a political agitator, a writer, a lecturer; a man of many parts.

A few of these were covered when he came to talk to our maori studies class he wore shorts and singlet and a pair of workman’s boots. Large and solid, a square-shaped presence with a touch of a boxer’s grace, there is nothing wishy-washy about Dun Mihaka.

At school until 141/2, he says his real education came from the police, in court and in prison.

He has in excess of 80 convictions and is still counting.

“If there’s any area where I’ve had any influence at all, it’s in the courts. I’ve used the law as a platform.”

Some judges admire him, “a highly intelligent man”; some policemen think, “He’s just a pub brawler.”

Turning his experience to advantage, he also gives legal advice to others.

“The advice I can give won’t get them off, but it will help them to understand what’s happening, why the court is set up the way it is and whose values it represents.”

He objects strongly to lawyers why give an income to a parasite, he says.

“Lots of judges have asked me why I didn’t become a lawyer so I could help my people more. But I think a person’s best lawyer is himself.”

Still a card-carrying member of the New Zealand Party, he explains, “All parties have some policies I’d agree with even the Nazis.”

Abolition of the maori seats attracted him to the conference. No section of the community should have special privileges, he agrees.

But, “The remit was aimed at the prejudices of those who were there... one woman said she supported the remit because there are no full-blooded maoris left.”

Although Dun is himself 100 per cent maori, this is irrelevant to the issue, he said. “You show me a full-blooded pakeha and I’ll show you a full-blooded mongrel.”

This prejudice and the party’s hypocritical treatment of him inspired the famous gesture of contempt.

“As soon as I appeared at the door

they were all over me, wanting me to join.” Enthusiasm was even greater

later when they tried to repay his membership fee.

“Ten dollar notes were coming from everywhere I thought it was a reward for my contribution to the party conference.”

But that was just an ordinary downtrou, he said. He keeps the real thing for royalty.

“Muldoon’s always saying maoris use pakeha methods of protest. I’ve often thought that one of these days I’d show him a true-blue maori protest.” That side of maori culture should get as much airing as anything else, he said.

“I’m sure Princess Di quite enjoyed it, but I’m not bragging.”

Dim Mihaka’s relationship with other maori activists is an uneasy one.

He finds much to criticse in other maori protests, particularly the 1975 Land March and this year’s hikoi, although he approves of marching.

The Land March was an effective protest but not a great historical event, he said.

“The whole community was involved the police, traffic officers, the media.”

Dame Whina Cooper “She’s as tough as old boots” was the main problem, he thinks. Everything went well until they reached Parliament.

“Then the old lady took off and left us in the lurch. All the way down she had been saying we would stay until we got a guarantee that no more land would be taken.

“The thinking behind the so-called hikoi was dim-witted gaping holes you could drive a truck through.”

Of hikoi leader Eva Rickard, “There’s a stickability about her she sticks like glue.... She talks on the one hand about bloodshed and fighting and on the other hand about peace and love.’’ Maoridom supports things like the hikoi because their emotions are aroused, not because they necessarily understand what it is about, he said. No one likes the media and Dun Mihaka is no exception. “The first priority of the media is to advertise the values of the ruling class. Most journalists are common people like you and me, but I know that when the journalist has finished writing it has to go through the editorial process by the time it’s gone through that it’s unrecognisable.” But he says of the hikoi’s coverage:

“If they had reported it was peace and harmony then I’d have cause to worry.” He admits supplying derogatory information about hikoi walker Titewhai Harawira to the New Zealand Times: journalist Kate Coughlan wrote that she “seems to see herself as some sort of macho fairy-godmother.”

Other maori actions don’t get off lightly either.

Maori International is doomed to failure. “They’re saying, ‘let us rip you off for a change’.” But it will be an invaluable experience, he thinks.

“People vote for the Mana-Motu-hake Party, not because they understand their policies, but because they’re fed up.”

But doesn’t he think maori people get enough criticism without him adding to it?

“I’m not criticising the person, but the ideas. . . I want people to have a more balanced view of the world. . . I don’t want to be remembered as someone who was only concerned with my own skin.”