The Story of a King Carnival

A Fund-Raising Campaign, its Successes and Failures Some time ago the school committee in the district where I live decided to hold a King Carnival as a means of raising £4000 for the provision of swimming baths, a filtration plant and a library for the school. There were to be four candidates, each with his own committee, and the candidate who raised the most money was to be crowned king. The carnival was to start in the middle of September and to end a month later. The first three candidates were to represent different areas in the district and the fourth candidate, a Maori, was to represent the Maori people. This was a gesture on the committee's part which would give the Maori people, for the first time, an opportunity of playing an important part in this community. A Variety of Motives The Maori King committee consisted of a European chairman, a Maori secretary and treasurer, approximately fifteen Maori women, four Europeans (two men and two women), and the Maori candidate. This number fluctuated from time to time, and on an average there were about ten people on the committee. Apart from racial differences, it was interesting to note the members' quite diverse walks of life. Most were labourers or the wives of labourers; among the others were the wife of an architect, an insurance representative and a school-teacher. I had though that all the members had joined the committee to raise money for the school, but I soon found that this was not the case, and in fact there were three groups, each with a different attitude. There were some who simply wanted to help raise as much money for the school as possible, and who were concerned not so much with who won the campaign, as with doing their best for a common goal. Many of these people would have served just as willingly on any other committee. Then there were the ‘moderate’ Maoris, who had agreed to help the committee because the candidate was a Maori, a friend or a relative, and because they were at the same time going to help to raise money for their school. The last group, and fortunately the smallest, contained the Maori ‘extremists’, who were helping the candidate for the sole reason that he was a Maori. In fact, though a few of these people had children going to the school, their interest in the real objectives of the carnival was negligible. Among these people I sensed an almost desperate feeling of win or bust, a determination to give the Pakeha a fight for his money. Determined to Win The Maori committee held its first meeting about two months before the official starting-time, and the surge of opinion was to get started immediately. This they did, brushing aside the official starting-time of the Pakeha, which they regarded as meaningless. The school committee, of course, heard of this at once, and lacking understanding of the Maori, they ordered them to cease their activities forthwith. The Maori reaction to this was to threaten to withdraw completely. Many of them expressed the sentiment: if the Pakeha doesn't like our way of raising money and tries to tell us what to do, let him do it by himself. Faced with this situation, the school committee decided to compromise by allowing all the committees to start unofficially. At this stage many of the Pakehas seemed to be becoming suspicious, even apprehensive, of the Maoris. Seeing their determination to win and their premature enthusiasm, they weren't quite sure what the Maoris were going to do next. One thing they were convinced of—some people would be doing battle very seriously indeed. I confess that I was inclined to forget the basic objectives of the whole thing myself at first. I knew that nothing better could have happened than to see the Maori candidate win the carnival, for this would almost certainly have boosted the morale and standing of the Maoris in the community. Now I shall pass on to the actual events