Planning for maori land and traditional maori uses

Tu Tangata, Issue 19, 1 August 1984, Page 26

Planning for maori land and traditional maori uses

\ I ell the pakeha how you feel,’ Hiwi Tauroa, Race Relations Conciliator, said to the maori of the eastern Bay of Plenty in 1982. ‘Stop grumbling I to yourselves on the marae.’

Now, two years later, the maori have begun to speak up, and a few pakeha have begun to listen. The occasion was the hearing of the objections of the review of the Whakatane District Scheme. Maanu Paul, chairman of the Ngati Awa Maori Executive and of the Waiariki District Maori Council, and chief local agitator for maori rights, had asked that the council hearings be adjourned to Wairaka marae. After three hours of deliberations, the councillors agreed. The decision was greeted with delight by local maori people who feel more at ease expressing themselves on their home ground. It was labelled ‘historic’ and ‘momentous’. Paul set about gathering the support of local elders and chairmen of local trusts. The district scheme is racist, he told them. If allowed to pass without change its effect would be to break up maori communities and prevent their further development. The growing numbers of unemployed young people returning from the cities will have nowhere to live, no land to work. Support also came from the Whakatane Association for Racial Understanding, a mainly pakeha group aiming to bridge the gap between maori and pakeha and to prevent the misunderstandings and fear that arise from ignorance. May 7. The sun shines as the mayor, councillors, planners, and other interested people gather at the entrance to the marae. Behind them flows the Whakatane River, and out to sea Whale Island looks on impassively.

Mayor, Jack Gow sounds very conciliatory in his speech: ‘We hope the scheme will be based on traditions worthy of maintaining and changes worthy of incorporating. Change with intelligence is progress. I hope we’ll be able to share the wisdom of the years, of maori tradition and incorporate it into the scheme for the benefit of all.’ It augurs well. The formalities over, the mayor asks where the hearing will be held. ‘ln the wharenui,’ comes the reply. ‘Oh, I thought it might be held in the dining hall,’ says the mayor. No, this meeting is the maori people’s chance to really air their views and speak their minds, and the wharenui is the proper place for this. There they can speak freely well, almost. The maori people though have come some way towards pakeha custom. The wharenui is kitted out with tables and chairs. Tricky. Do councillors take off their shoes, as is usual custom in the wharenui, or leave them on? Some do one, some do the other. One councillor compromises by taking his shoes off once he is inside. Most of the elders leave theirs, on as does Paul himself. A karakia starts the meeting, maori style. Dan Pakorehe Mason, a blind elder, is given the privilege. Symbolic, Paul says later, to show the councillors that even the blind can see. The wharenui fills up with over fifty locals. A high-powered group, many of them elders and leaders of local trusts and maraes. Today there is complete unity. They’re all there to back Paul. No one raps him over the knuckles, as has

sometimes been the case when he has responded to issues without consulting the elders. Today there is nothing but praise for his skills and ability. His presentation and organisation are faultless.

Objections 401 get underway. Paul begins by explaining the meanings and significance of the terms marae, papakainga, whenua, turangawaewae and hui. He goes on to talk of ‘maori management’ the marae and maori committee structures, and the Ngati Awa Maori Executive, the elected body whose function it is ‘to assist other agencies in the provision of housing and improvement of living conditions of the Maori’ (Maori Community Development Act 1962).

Paul reads the whole of the relevant part of the act. He hopes the council will begin to use the maori executive more often, as the Ngati Awa maori’s duly elected body. Hearing chairperson Forde Mitchell has already said in his opening speech on the marae that council had asked the maori people for their input into the plan two years earlier but had met with no response. Paul later counters this, saying the council should have gone to the Ngati Awa Maori Executive, not to Kokohinau marae and the Waimana Hall. The executive has, for two years now, been offering to act as consultants on such matters.

The terms and his position clarified, Paul pulls no punches. The district scheme review is monocultural. Maori people make up one third of the district’s population. It is not possible for non-maoris to think for maoris. The present council, and the Wellington-based town planners who drafted the review, are entirely pakeha. Maori consultants are essential.

The effects of monoculturalism are illustrated over and over again as the specific objections are brought up. Te Mapou Pa, for example, where planners wish to stop further development along the road opposite the marae, since some houses are vacant and some falling into disrepair. This, says Paul, shows an ignorance of the term ‘papakainga’, and of the concept of ‘ahi ka’. The papakainga is not just the marae. It extends to the houses across the road. It just happens that a highways runs through the middle. Former residents have had to go to the cities to look for work, but they did not sell up as the pakehas do. The houses stay, for the intention is always to return. ‘Ahi ka’, broadly speaking, means ‘to keep the home’.

With the increase of unemployment in cities more people are returning. The planners say these people can return to Te Teko itself instead of Te Mapou. Paul says maoris should not be forced to move from their traditional historical and genealogical links a kilometre down the road. This sub-tribe is differ-

ent from the one on the other side of the river.

Allen Kane, a pakeha surveyor, married to a maori, speaks in support of Paul. He elequently explains some of the injustices he sees. ‘Those maoris who live in association with their marae are the custodians of their culture and the heritage of New Zealand,’ he submits. ‘‘Planning ordinances should not prevent maoris living on their ancestral lands. Papakainga and active maraes need to develop freely in accordance with the needs of the maori community.” He likens the Te Mapou Pa policy to a scheme whereby the Anglican Church in Domain Road is forced to move in with the Catholic Church in King Street because the planner sees this as more convenient.

Houses on papakainga land should be a predominant, not a conditional use. In Opotiki, Kane tells the councillors, papakainga development is a conditional use, and in five years no building permits have been issued for papakainga land on the Opotiki County. However, maori people have indicated a desire to build and live on such lands.

Clyde Lambourn presents the Whakatane Association for Racial Understanding submissions. He begins with a lengthy whaikorero in maori. The elders are impressed. So, it seems, are the councillors. One of the councillors’ friends, sitting in the audience, mutters to another, ‘Who is he?’ ‘Must be a university type from outside the area,’ comes the reply.

Lambourn, however, is a local working at the board mills. He says later that he hopes the way he and other pakeha members of WARU have shown an understanding of maori customs and language will demonstrate to councillors that pakeha people can learn these things. Why should only maori people be bicultural? Maoritanga is the heritage of all New Zealanders and the maori people of the Eastern Bay are always ready to share their knowledge and language. Maybe even the mayor, renowned for his mispronunciation of maori names and places, might be inspired.

WARU joins Paul and Kane in objections to the rural community and conditional development status given to Poroporo, Ruatoki, Waiohau and Te Teko, a status which allows councillors to restrict their development. This is constrasted with the urban status given to the larger, predominantly pakeha Waimana ‘to remove restrictions that may prevent settlement of persons who could contribute to the welfare of the township’. This shows understanding of the needs of traditional European settlements, says Lambourn, but the same kind of understanding is not forthcoming in regard to maori settlements.

A similar comparison is drawn between provisions for retired farmers, which allows them to buy half a hectare

of farmland for their dwellings, as they may not be accustomed to being urban dwellers.

‘Commendable sensitivity and understanding,’ says Lambourn, adding: ‘Nowhere in this scheme can we find the same sort of sensitivity afforded to maori people, whose ancestors may have lived in the area for hundreds of years!’

WARU also supports Paul in emphasising that it is not just the wording of the scheme that matters, but the way it is implemented. If the attitudes of councillors and council staff remain monocultural, nothing will really have changed.

Lambourn gives as an example the recent issue of the Ruatoki water supply which is so highly polluted that it must be boiled before being drunk. Council staff say they considered improving the situation last year. They wrote letters to Ruatoki residents asking if they wanted to co-operate in the establishmernt of a new supply. There had been no real response. ‘Maori communities are highly and efficiently organised,” says Lambourn, ‘but an approach to them must be made in a culturally appropriate way. Writing letters to individuals is not appropriate. Until councillors and council staff are made aware of cultural differences, maori communities will continue to suffer.’

Keith Cameron, chairperson of numerous 438 trusts (boards elected to take care of land on multiple ownership land) is next up.

‘We have the land, the expertise, the man and woman power, the interests of the nation at heart. Just give us permission to build houses on our own land and work there,’ he asks. He refers to restrictions the scheme imposes on rural housing: shelterbelts must be planted and horticultural development well underway before housing permits are issued.

‘I understand this rule is to prevent people just building a house and then selling it at increased value,’ says Cameron. Fair enough. Fine for pakeha land, but 438 trusts are different. Trusts are prevented by law from selling their land. No quick bucks here. And how can land be developed unless houses are allowed first? On one of the 438 trust blocks no one owner lives within 50 miles of the land. Two young maori people he knows, both with degrees in horticulture, cannot come home because of this ruling.

The councillors listen to all this silently. Only occasionally is a small point questioned, clarified. Most say nothing at all, some are obviously uneasy in this unfamiliar setting. But this is a council meeting, even if it is in a wharenui. There is no debate on contentious issues, no reaching of consensus in the maori way. Submissions are head in silence. Even Paul’s charges of

racism are heard impassively. But then, after the lunch Paul goes a bit too far. ‘ln essence then, we do not trust the council, nor do we expect to get fair treatment under this legislation,’ he says.

The mayor is not one of the councillors hearing submissions as he was not present the day the request came for adjournment to the marae. But he is in the audience and jumps to his feet objecting.

‘‘But this is a long held belief of the maori people that we are not getting a fair deal from the council. We express it in the hope the council becomes aware of maori feeling,’ replies Paul.

‘The council does not set about deliberately to discriminate against maori people,” says the mayor.

At this point a maori person in the audience indicates he wishes to speak in support of Paul. In spite of his acceptance of the mayor’s comments, hearing chairperson Forde Mitchell rules that out of order. He suggests a ten minute adjournment, time for things to cool down.

It works. Later Paul offers to retract the offending sentence in the interests of ensuring the hearings continue. He speaks rapidly in maori to his supporter, who agrees, then translates for the councillors’ benefit. ‘Then let the sentence be struck from the record,’ says Mitchell and the hearing continues.

The rest of the detailed objections are quickly covered. No questions are asked. Everyone is tired and hoping the submissions will be finished that day.

Just before the end, the paramount chief of Ngati Awa, Dr Eruera Manuera, whose silent presence has been a great support to Paul, is helped out the side door. He mutters to his daughter, jokingly: ‘lf we stay a bit longer they might even sell us some of our land back.’

More seriously though, most maori people present are pleased that at last their voices are being heard. Michael White, one of their pakeha supporters says, ‘Even though many of the councillors are friends of mine, I must say they are one-eyed. Maybe today their other eyes have been opened, just a little. It’s a beginning, just a beginning.’

Paul is thrilled with the proceedings. Never mind having to retract a sentence. The phrases objected to were minor ones, he says. If the councillors had understood the rest, they would have realised that.

One of the stenographers, Margaret Biddle, has a final word the following day. ‘I am amazed, truly amazed. At the end Forde Mitchell said he and the other councillors had learnt some new things on the marae. But they’ve lived here all their lives. Didn’t they know these things before?’ Finally, this May, the pakeha began to listen. Whether they understood re-

Ruth Gerzon

mains to be seen.