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OPINIONĀteaNovember 10, 2020

Why Nanaia Mahuta is right to repeal racist Māori wards legislation

Guest writer
(Image: Getty)
(Image: Getty)

As the law stands, councils that have voted to establish Māori wards can have that decision overturned by a public referendum. It’s time for the legislation to go, argues Florence Dean.

Aotearoa, we have a problem. A problem that lies in our local government legislation.

The Local Electoral Act 2001 currently allows voters to demand a binding poll if a council decides to create a Māori ward or constituency (the local government version of a Māori seat). The effect: voters in the electorate can squash their council’s decision to secure Māori representation. This law flies in the face of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and, as Alice Webb-Liddall noted last year, acts as a barrier to Māori representation and participation in local government.

Nanaia Mahuta, minister of local government, has said she will prioritise repealing this law. Given that several councils are set to introduce a Māori ward for the next local body elections, the Labour government needs to act quickly to ensure that this binding referendum veto doesn’t stymie their decision.

Under the Local Electoral Act, a council can choose to include a Māori ward or constituency that allows residents on the Māori roll to directly elect representatives, much like we see in parliament. However, unlike these parliamentary seats, sections 19ZA-19ZC allow voters to veto the existence of such Māori wards.

Briefly, here’s how these provisions operate:

As a part of its six-yearly review of electoral representation, a council may decide to establish a Māori ward/constituency;

Voters in the district opposed to this decision are entitled to organise a petition, which, if signed by at least 5% of the local voting population, means the decision must go to a binding referendum;

Voters then get to vote for or against establishing a Māori ward/constituency;

If the majority vote in favour, the decision is confirmed. But, if the majority vote against, the decision is overturned and it’s another six years before the relevant council can revisit it.

While this process may sound nice and democratic at face value, it is in fact extremely problematic.

Firstly, voters do not have equivalent power to demand a poll where a council decides to establish a general ward or constituency. So, there’s a double standard by which only Māori participation and representation is subject to a general community review.

Secondly, it just doesn’t make sense to have the non-Māori majority decide on an issue that involves only Māori. As David Cull, the previous president of Local Government New Zealand, notes: “[there are] quite a lot of questions in the local government sector as to why when a geographical ward is proposed the people affected are asked, whereas when a Māori ward is proposed everyone is asked, even those that are not affected. And that is not seen among a good number of our members as fair or equitable at all.” The impact is that a Pākehā majority is deciding the level of representation for a Māori minority. Continued colonisation at its finest.

Thirdly, this law is flagrantly contrary to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Te Tiriti guarantees Māori participation and representation in governance. But the local poll veto routinely stops Māori representation in its tracks. Te Tiriti is also meant to establish a partnership relationship, but how can this be if one partner is stopped from sitting at the table?

And Māori are being stopped. Only two councils have successfully introduced Māori wards since this law came into force in 2002. At least nine others have tried to do so, only to fail after the community vetoed the decision. This year, New Plymouth District Council, Tauranga City Council, Ruapehu District Council, Northland Regional Council, Kaipara District Council and Whangārei District Council all have chosen to create Māori wards for the next local body elections. Unfortunately, they all face a real threat of a binding poll overturning their resolutions. This is not democracy, this is racism.

So, the current law is stopping Māori representation from being achieved. For anyone still in doubt about the validity of Māori wards, Dr Annie Te One eloquently myth-busts misapprehensions about them here. If Aotearoa wants to redress the atrocities of colonisation and step into the future supporting Māori interests, Māori should and must be included in running the country at all levels. At the very least, that requires removing obstacles to Māori representation like sections 19ZA-19ZC.

In 2017, Marama Davidson put forward a member’s bill to do just that. Her bill highlighted the double standard that exists between Māori versus general wards/constituencies, and the breach of Te Tiriti principles. Sadly, it failed at first reading due to opposition from New Zealand First, National and Act. Now, with a Labour majority comfortably unshackled from New Zealand First, nothing stands in the way of Nanaia Mahuta’s desire to see its repeal.

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    With six councils having recently resolved to form Māori wards, this ought to be done under urgency. Otherwise, if any – much less all – fall to a local poll veto, then they will be blocked from introducing specific Māori representation for another two election cycles. That’s six years in which they will be without genuine Māori representation and compliance with Te Tiriti. Facing this situation, compliance with Te Tiriti ought to outweigh the need for the niceties of parliamentary procedure. Urgency is needed and justified.

    Local government cannot be considered representative without the inclusion of tangata whenua. If elected councillors believe specific Māori representation on a council will allow that body to best represent the community it serves, they should be able to make the decision just as they do with any other local electoral matter. To ensure that Māori representation is no longer gate-kept by Pākehā majorities with misplaced fears, sections 19ZA-19ZC must be repealed as soon as possible.

    Florence Dean is a law clerk at the Ngāi Tahu Māori Law Centre

    Keep going!
    From left, Christy Tennent, Mike Hona, Taniko Ngamotu and Grayson Goffe, with Tiare Turetahi at front, outside Open Cafe with their boil-up (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)
    From left, Christy Tennent, Mike Hona, Taniko Ngamotu and Grayson Goffe, with Tiare Turetahi at front, outside Open Cafe with their boil-up (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)

    KaiNovember 9, 2020

    Nourishing community, nurturing culture: Why boil-up is so much more than a feed

    Contributing writer
    From left, Christy Tennent, Mike Hona, Taniko Ngamotu and Grayson Goffe, with Tiare Turetahi at front, outside Open Cafe with their boil-up (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)
    From left, Christy Tennent, Mike Hona, Taniko Ngamotu and Grayson Goffe, with Tiare Turetahi at front, outside Open Cafe with their boil-up (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)

    Each week, two Tāmaki Makaurau community groups share a K Road cafe’s kitchen to support the local homeless community, and bring urban Māori together, through a simple, nourishing bowl of boil-up. 

    Tangata whenua have always innovated within a changing environment. So, when Pākehā arrived in Aotearoa with new foods like pork, potatoes, pumpkin and flour, along with iron cooking pots, Māori got creative and invented the boil-up.

    Made with inexpensive cuts of meat, starchy vegetables and leafy greens, the perfect boil-up differs depending on who you talk to. Some need slices of white bread and margarine on the side, some add tomato sauce. If you’re like me, you add onion. Everyone’s got a preference for the size of their dough boys. Most agree, however, that a boil-up should always be accompanied by kapu tī.

    As Māori began moving to urban areas after the Second World War, the boil-up took on new importance. While many traditional foods were difficult to find in cities, the key ingredients for boil-up were readily available and the dish became an accessible connection to home. The shared enjoyment of boil-up has become an important symbol of Māori identity in the city. 

    In many ways, boil-up is a dish of resilience. Both affordable and flexible, any particular boil-up will tell a story of connection to family, hapū, iwi or marae. For urban Māori it is one of the easiest ways to tap into the comfort of cultural connection. 

    Boil-up being served up at Open Cafe (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)

    “The thing about boil-up is that although it’s more of a contemporary kai, it’s significant because it’s nostalgic, that smell is an identifier, and we all have a story around it.” says Grayson Goffe, leader of Whakamanatia, a kaupapa Māori community group based in Auckland. 

    Every week, Open Cafe on Auckland’s Karangahape Road shares its kitchen with Whakamanatia and another community group, Awhina Mai Tatou Katoa, which was founded in 2015 by the homeless to offer help and advocacy to their street whānau. The two groups come together to “nourish the community through nurturing culture”, says Goffe. For them, kai is nourishment in a much stronger sense than just filling tummies. The point is to celebrate being Māori through the preparation and eating of boil-up – it’s a form of activism.

    Boil-up is the perfect vehicle through which Whakamanatia and Awhina Mai Tatou Katoa can empower urban Māori, because unlike many other traditional foods, boil-up has specific links to urban Māori history.

    The inspiration to sell boil-up came from an integral member of their street whānau, Hono Tamihana, who died earlier this year. “When the bro passed away we wanted to carry on his vision”, says Tiare Turetahi, another member of the boil-up-making team.

    Many in the cooking team have lived experience of homelessness and the preparation of boil-up “reminds people of their strengths, where they belong, who they are, what we’re about as Māori”, says Goffe.

    Diners enjoying boil-up at Open Cafe (Photo: Charlotte Muru-Lanning)

    The collaboration, which takes place every Wednesday, feeds eager customers the iconic Māori dish. From early in the morning you’ll find Goffe alongside a team of organisers cooking up a hearty combination of mānuka-cured bacon bones, carrots, pumpkin, rīwai, kūmara, pūhā, pearled with delicious chewy dough boys. It’s $10 for the boil-up, or $15 to add fry bread or rēwena and a drink, and you can order through Facebook or Instagram.

    They’ve been doing it for two months and usually sell around 20 bowls. Anything left over goes to the homeless, and sometimes even to activists protesting the removal of native trees on Canal Road in Avondale. Nothing is wasted. Those who order a bowl can also choose to pay it forward, which means that a member of the homeless community can have a bowlful too. 

    Christy Tennent, the owner of Open Cafe, wants to continue to support groups like these. “It doesn’t have to be this ego-driven, masculine, profit-only space,” Tennent says.

    They’re looking to the future too, with ambitions for electric bike boil-up deliveries, a food truck, and to begin sourcing ingredients from community gardens.

    Through this evolving initiative, Goffe and the team are contributing to the restoration and strengthening of Māori community and identity in central Auckland.

    “Where do we draw our sense of belonging from if our maunga are quarried, if our oceans are polluted – what can we turn to?” Goffe asks. Fortunately, we have boil-up.

    Ātea