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.’

He Transformed the Department His influence on the Maori situation has been considerable. He keenly felt a dual obligation: to the government as a public servant, and a special obligation to the Maori people. At his office, there was a constant flow of Maori people wishing to pour out their hearts to one of their own race in authority and Mr Ropiha considered it his duty to listen to all of them. The first job he did as under-secretary was to go to Taranaki to discuss the then contentious matter of the West Coast Settlement leases. On the imminent expiry of these leases, better terms had to be negotiated for the Maori owners. Mr Ropiha spent the whole day in gruelling and effective discussions with the lessees to press the Maori proposals. At the end of the session, the lessees’ solicitor took a senior official of the department aside and asked him: ‘Is this Mr Ropiha's first day in office?’ On being told it was, he exclaimed: ‘Let us hope that all his days are not like this one’. Mr Ropiha could be a formidable negotiator. Looking quite innocent as if he emerged only yesterday from the deepest backblocks he would ask questions which seemed full of naive curiosity. One tended to answer such questions with a certain kindness and indulgence, only to find oneself enmeshed in an inextricable self-made web. And then, a straight victory against Mr Ropiha was virtually impossible. He was a master in wearing out the enemy. While he was very quick at doing what he thought desirable, those who tried to make him do the opposite found so many difficulties in their path that they somehow never reached their ends. ‘Nobody has ever worn me out,’ was one of the few boasts he ever made. As champion of Maori interests, the Secretary enhanced the Maori owners' rewards from the Greymouth and Taranaki leases and lands vested in the Maori Trustee. On the marae he would always be immaculate, smooth as a diplomat, and speak in clear, modern Maori, which was correct and lively but never became ornate. It was the first time since Ngata that the elders had heard the voice of authority speak in the Maori tongue, and not only did they understand the argument better, but in Maori they were better able to assess the hidden thoughts and motives behind the speech. They could be sure of its honesty where they were suspicious in English. Until Mr Ropiha took over, Maori owners in many cases had no part in the administration of land the department was farming on their behalf. It was lucky that after 1948, it became government policy first, to give the owners an advisory voice, and then, wherever possible, to hand over full control to Maori incorporations or individuals. It was Mr Ropiha's job to carry out this policy which he did with vigour and determination. There was a good deal of opposition from certain quarters. Mr Ropiha worked with the greatest patience and diplomacy, but when that did not avail he used his full authority. (‘I have come here to hear how it can be done, not why it cannot be done.’) In this way, Maori leaders were clothed with a new dignity as they were entrusted with full say over their patrimony and so an atmosphere of mutual trust developed which changed Maori attitudes to officialdom over the last ten years. In the end it was always on the marae that the fundamental decisions were taken. At Te Kao, a village where land development had started with wonderful enthusiasm, apathy and indifference had gradually developed through a number of unfortunate events over the years. Mr Ropiha went there to discuss the matter. He saw the problems of the community, and got their support for a plan of reform. This getting of personal support was Continued on page 63