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mt albert protest

AucklandNovember 13, 2019

Who really owns Ōwairaka?

mt albert protest

A protest against the felling of non-native trees on one of Auckland’s maunga has erupted this week. Ben Thomas says they’re behaving like brats and ignoring the rights of iwi.

Letting go can be hard, even if it’s for the best.

This is not to say that a few dozen angry residents of Mt Albert, protesting the removal of non-native trees from Ōwairaka (Mt Albert) to regenerate thousands of native plants, are not entitled to feel sad that some familiar landmarks to them are passing. They can love the maunga, cherish the foreign trees.

Like a dear friend being counselled through a relationship break-up, they should be told it is OK to grieve, it’s good to tell their stories and that they will always have their memories. But just like a break-up, they should remember that loving something doesn’t mean owning it.

Instead, they have whipped themselves into a fury on Facebook to the point where their noise has attracted the support of noted race baiters Hobson’s Pledge, which is best-known for opposing iwi-based council wards, giving Don Brash something to do in retirement, and promoting ridiculous conspiracy theories about suppressed European societies in pre-Māori New Zealand.

What is uncomfortable is the tack protesters have taken: writing to the prime minister (and local MP) seeking her intervention in the tree-felling plans; demanding the council step in to prevent the regeneration project as planned; making appeals to democratic and ratepayer rights to have their opinions heard and translated into action.

In other words, a strong sense that decisions about the maunga are ultimately for the “people of Mt Albert” or Auckland or New Zealand or whatever, and not for the iwi who own them.

Yes, own them. In this Radio New Zealand piece (by the excellent journalist Amy Williams) about opposition to the plan, the maunga (along with central Auckland’s other iconic volcanic cones), is referred to as “the community’s maunga”, and as “the city’s maunga”, and not once as “the maunga that are owned by the iwi of Tāmaki Makaurau” – which is what, in fact, they are.

Under the 2014 settlement signed with 13 Auckland iwi, the maunga are held in trust by the iwi for the “common benefit of Ngā Mana Whenua o Tāmaki Makaurau and the other people of Auckland”, and have reserve status. They are governed by the Tūpuna Maunga Authority, with iwi and council representatives, which exercises its powers having regard to “the spiritual, ancestral, cultural, customary, and historical significance of the maunga to Ngā Mana Whenua o Tāmaki Makaurau”.

What this means is not that the authority is a subcommittee of council, or that it is a democratic body. It is a statutory body that governs the maunga for the benefit of all, in a way that accords with their historical place to iwi on the isthmus.

What’s really grating about the Ōwairaka protestors is an almost brattish refusal to recognise that this is just one more act in a long tradition of iwi generosity in Auckland.

Sir Douglas Graham, the first minister for Treaty settlements, noted that shortly after the signing of the Treaty in 1840, the Crown bought 1214ha of what is now downtown Auckland for £281 from iwi. Within six months, it had sold just 36ha of that land on to settlers for £24,500 (a mark-up of around 8,500%). Auckland was literally built on Māori capital. But metaphorically, it was built on their manaakitanga – the welcoming of guests.

Some protesters have argued that as “ratepayers” the authority is accountable to them because council has three representatives on the authority and delivers management services on the ground. But of course the council contributes to their upkeep – the maunga remain, with the agreement of the 13 iwi owners as part of their settlement, freely open to the public and among Auckland’s most-visited destinations.

The iwi of Tāmaki Makaurau continue to welcome guests with open arms. And they continue to have it thrown back in their faces by a small but noisy minority, ranging from over-entitled residents like Lisa Prager to cynical politicians like Christine Fletcher and the divisive creatures of Hobson’s Pledge.

Some protesters say they are worried the felling of all the foreign trees at once (but not the existing native rākau on Ōwairaka) is not ecological best practice. The maunga authority says it is, and is backed up by heavyweight experts. But that’s really beside the point. So long as the plan is legally compliant, it’s not up to the authority to put aside its vision of what’s best for the maunga in favour of some noisy neighbours’ own personal views.

The maunga have a history that goes back far longer than even the oldest resident telling boyhood stories into a Radio New Zealand microphone. The authority has the legal and – lest anyone forget – moral rights to give effect to its plan. The only question is whether some residents of Mt Albert want their memories to be part of an even bigger story that enriches and enlarges their own experience of the woody hill.

Disclaimer: Ben Thomas is a PR consultant and was the press secretary for Chris Finlayson (minister for Treaty of Waitangi negotiations) when the Tāmaki Makaurau settlement legislation was passed.

Keep going!
Photo: Hannah Peters/Getty Images
Photo: Hannah Peters/Getty Images

AucklandNovember 12, 2019

Lessons on the Auckland housing crisis from Glen Innes

Photo: Hannah Peters/Getty Images
Photo: Hannah Peters/Getty Images

In the second part of a new event series looking at the future of Auckland, The Spinoff and Auckland Council host In My Backyard: Glen Innes, to ask what the suburb can teach the rest of the city about housing. 

Throughout its history, Glen Innes has had the highest density of state housing in New Zealand. At the start of the decade, a project began to regenerate the area’s tired housing stock. The Tāmaki urban regeneration project plans to build 10,500 new homes in Glen Innes, Panmure and Point England. There will be 3500 homes sold on the open market, 3500 affordable homes, and 3500 new state homes. 

Fenchurch St in Glen Innes is filled with new houses. Most of them are terraced houses. State homes and new private houses are mixed together, indistinguishable from each other. They’re all classic modern designs; made of weatherboard and painted in white, off-white, grey and dark grey. It looks like a model for a future Auckland. The development is compact, serviced by public transport, and filled with public spaces. Kids ride home from school on their bikes. The community is both ethnically and socio-economically diverse. There are jobs and opportunities.

But it took time and pain, a lot of mistakes and a new approach to building communities to get here. 

Less than 10 years ago the same area was the site of pitched battles. There were arrests and demonstrations. Protesters staged sit-ins in backyards and driveways. The protests were against the plan to demolish 2800 ageing state homes and replace them with 7500 new dwellings (now 10,500) in Tāmaki – the area encompassing Glen Innes and neighbouring east Auckland suburbs Panmure and Point England. The plan meant moving dozens of state housing tenants out of their homes. Critically, not all of them were offered accommodation in their area. Some had been living in their homes for decades. 


Come and join The Spinoff for a lively discussion on what Glen Innes can teach Auckland about housing.

November 19, 6-8pm, Te Oro, 98 Line Road, Glen Innes. Please RSVP to kerryanne@thespinoff.co.nz 


New homes in Glen Innes (Image: Hannah Peters/Getty Images)

Then in 2016, the Tāmaki Regeneration Company (TRC) was charged with taking over the Tāmaki development. The job now was not just to progress development, but to improve the relationship with residents, particularly in Glen Innes. Those who had moved out of Tāmaki already were encouraged to get in touch with TRC if they wanted to move back.

However, the community still feared the project was more about gentrification than urban renewal. TRC started building differently in response. All its new development contracts included extra state housing. It worked with local business owners in an effort to ensure Tāmaki’s town centres continued to meet the needs of the current residents.

TRC’s broader mission extends into economic and social transformation. As part of its expanded remit, TRC founded a jobs hub, which has helped 600 Tāmaki locals into employment so far, including 13 members of one whānau. It also helps residents with financial literacy. Some of them have been able to buy their own homes as a result, sometimes by taking advantage of TRC’s shared ownership scheme. The organisation is staffed by a number of locals and reflects the diversity of the Tāmaki community. 

An abandoned state house boarded up ready for removal on April 8, 2016 in Auckland, New Zealand (Photo by Hannah Peters/Getty Images)

Local residents see a community that is safer, where locals have an opportunity to own their homes. But concerns persist. The trauma suffered by the people of Tāmaki – particularly in Glen Innes – will take time to heal. 

The area desperately needed regeneration. Many of the state houses being replaced are old, cold and rundown. They make children sick in the winter. They can be tenanted inefficiently. Some 600 to 800 square metre sections are home to one elderly person while others are home to whole extended families.

It’s still early days for the Tāmaki regeneration project, which is expected to run for two decades. Earthworks are already under way on multiple sites across the area, with large-scale developments in the pipeline for Glen Innes and Panmure. A community that has already experienced massive upheaval is about to experience more. Change is inevitable. But it is also required. And Auckland can learn a lot about how to house its residents, without disconnecting them from their communities. 

This content was created in paid partnership with Auckland Council. Learn more about our partnerships here.