Sāmoan flags in NZ (Photo: Getty Images)

OPINIONPoliticsNovember 20, 2024

New law gives up to 3,480 Samoan elders back their right to NZ citizenship

Guest writer

Sāmoan flags in NZ (Photo: Getty Images)

The Citizenship (Western Samoa Restoration) Amendment Bill has passed its third and final reading. The bill’s author reflects on what it means for the Samoan community.

It’s rare for MPs across the political spectrum to unite behind a piece of legislation. Rarer still is for an opposition MP’s bill to receive unanimous support in the House. It has been my honour and privilege to shepherd the Citizenship (Western Samoa Restoration) Amendment Bill through the House. Having this bill pass marks another step for Pasifika justice in Aotearoa.

The bill addresses an injustice created by a law rushed through by the Muldoon government 42 years ago which denied New Zealand citizenship to Western Samoans despite the highest court of appeal available in our country having recently ruled that they were entitled to citizenship.

For those people affected by the 1982 law, the bill passed today means they will be eligible for citizenship as of right, instead of having to go through the standard residency and citizenship application processes. If their application is successful they will also be refunded for the costs involved in the process. It is estimated that a maximum of 3,480 people would be able to benefit from the bill.

I first deposited this member’s bill in parliament’s “Biscuit Tin” in 2022, after the issue was brought to my attention by the Samoan community following the Dawn Raids Apology in 2021. It wasn’t a new issue. In 2003, a petition requesting the repeal of petition Citizenship (Western Samoa) Act 1982 was signed by 100,000 people and presented to parliament. The Labour government of the time did not act on it.

My bill was picked from the ballot in August last year. But the journey of this bill began with a recognition of a deep and long-standing injustice. For those directly impacted, and for their families who have endured intergenerational trauma, it represents a step toward healing.

In 1978, Samoa-born Falema’i Lesa, working as a cook in Wellington, was arrested by immigration officers and accused of lacking the right to live in New Zealand. With the support of cleaners and other workers who fundraised for the case and immigration lawyers, Lesa appealed her case to the Privy Council, then New Zealand’s highest court. In 1982, the Privy Council ruled that Samoans born between 1924 and 1948 were British subjects and entitled to New Zealand citizenship. However, the Muldoon government swiftly nullified this decision by passing the Citizenship (Western Samoa) Act 1982, retroactively denying citizenship to those affected.

Decades later, having Falema’i Lesa sit in parliament’s public gallery during the bill’s readings has been both iconic and also for myself humbling as she witnessed us as a parliament grapple with taking those steps towards Pasifika justice.

At every stage of the bill’s progress, the community’s involvement has been crucial. Extensive consultations provided opportunities for affected individuals to share their stories, offering insight into the ongoing pain caused by the 1982 legislation. The select committee process was particularly powerful, with members of the Samoan community — young and old— speaking directly to the heart of the matter. Their stories moved many MPs, demonstrating the enduring strength and resilience of Pasifika communities. The committee received a total of 24,581 written submissions, and heard oral submissions in Wellington and Auckland through June and July this year.

I was especially heartened by the contributions of young people. Their engagement during the select committee process was inspiring, as they spoke with authenticity and passion. When we communicate from the heart, as they did, we foster openness and understanding. This generation gives me hope — they are strong, capable, and deeply committed to building a brighter future for their communities.

Jacinda Ardern is covered by a mat of forgiveness during a service to make a formal apology to the Pacifika people affected by the dawn raids of the 1970’s on August 01, 2021 in Auckland, New Zealand.The dawn raids began in 1974 when the government of the time clamped down on people overstaying their working visas. (Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images)

From its introduction to its final stages, the bill underwent significant refinement. Early discussions focused on whether to repeal the 1982 Act entirely — a move we supported for its symbolic importance. However, transferring the still-relevant operational clauses to other parts of the Citizenship Act was not supported by the select committee. This meant a name change of the bill from the original name to the Citizenship (Western Samoa Restoration) Amendment Bill.

At the committee stage, I proposed amendments based on submissions received by the select committee. These amendments aimed to expand eligibility to descendants of Samoans born before 1 January 1962 – the date of Samoa’s independence – and to waive application fees entirely. Unfortunately, these proposals were voted down by the government parties. One amendment, however, was successful at this stage. Proposed by Andy Foster of the New Zealand First Party, it ensures that successful applicants are refunded their application fees.

While we had hoped for broader measures, these changes still represent meaningful progress toward justice. The passage of this bill is part of a larger reckoning for Aotearoa in its treatment of Pasifika communities. Alongside the Dawn Raids apology, it’s another step in reconciling with our nation’s history of harm and neglect. Acknowledging these past mistakes is essential for our growth — as communities, as a nation, and as part of the Pacific family.

Our international standing is deeply tied to our relationships in the Pacific. Relational diplomacy is crucial in a region where geopolitical tensions between larger nations often play out. New Zealand’s commitment to nurturing these ties, especially through acts like this bill, reflects our responsibility to our Pacific neighbours. Supporting initiatives such as these not only strengthens our shared wellbeing but signals that we take these relationships seriously.

Today was a rare and special day – a day when people of different political stripes came together to address an injustice. For the affected Samoan community, the presence of packed public galleries during each reading of the bill was a testament to their perseverance. Their advocacy made this possible.

The Greens are proud to have championed this bill and hope it goes some way to atoning for past wrongs by the state against Pasifika communities.

Keep going!

A drone shot of some of the crowd at parliament. Image credit: Keelan Walker.

ĀteaNovember 20, 2024

Was the hīkoi New Zealand’s largest-ever protest?

Joel MacManus

Wellington editor

A drone shot of some of the crowd at parliament. Image credit: Keelan Walker.

Media estimates of the crowd size ranged from 17,000 to 100,000+, but one thing we can say for sure — it was bloody massive.

Thirty-five thousand people. That’s the crowd size police initially estimated for the final leg of the Hīkoi mō te Tiriti, the nine-day march in protest of a number of government actions, particularly the Treaty Principles Bill, which passed its first reading on Thursday (though National has vowed to not vote for it at second reading). The 35,000 estimate was repeated by most media outlets.

But the consensus among journalists at parliament on Tuesday, veterans of countless protests on the front lawn, was that 35,000 is likely an underestimate. RNZ initially reported 17,000, which is undoubtedly too low. Waatea News, on the other hand, claimed 100,000, a number probably too high. Later in the day, police upped its estimate to 42,000. Experienced protest crowd counter Grace Millar put the number at 50,500 people who “went past the end of Lambton Quay… Not including people at parliament, cenotaph… or those linking the streets“.

Of course, protests are about so much more than just crowd size. Yet everyone wants to know the number. Police and media typically use Jacobs’ Method, which divides the area occupied by a crowd into sections, counts the people in one section, and multiplies by the number of sections. It’s inexact but gives you a ballpark figure. But even if we could work out the exact number, it’s hard to express what that means on the ground. A crowd of 50,000 at Eden Park is incomparable to a crowd of the same size marching towards parliament.

At 9am yesterday, before the hīkoi began, I walked past parliament, where a couple of thousand people were already gathered on the grounds. It would be several hours before the rest of the crowd joined them.

The crowd at parliament at 9am. (Image: Joel MacManus)

The traditional starting point for protests in Wellington is Te Ngākau Civic Square, but in this case the hīkoi organisers chose Waitangi Park. The name felt apt, but more importantly, the park is much larger – the size of six rugby fields. There’s no way Civic Square could have held this many people. Waitangi Park is used for the main stage of Homegrown, which draws an annual crowd of around 25,000 people. The crowd at the hīkoi made Homegrown look like a school production.

A sea of flags at Waitangi Park. (Image: Joel MacManus)

The crowd that gathered at the park spilled out on all sides – into Cable Street, New World and the Te Papa car park. It took me 17 minutes of patiently squeezing past people to reach the edge of the grass. The sheer volume overwhelmed the mobile network; there was no signal at Waitangi Park, and reception remained patchy throughout the hīkoi.

The hīkoi started eastwards towards Kent Terrace, then looped around Courtenay Place before heading down the Golden Mile to parliament – a total distance of 3km. Thousands poured out of the park, barely seeming to make a dent in the mass that remained. The performers on stage played Katchafire covers to a sea of waving flags. I met Mitai Paraone-Kawiti (Ngā Puhi), who had attended the 1975 Māori land march as a 15-year-old with his aunty, Dame Whina Cooper. That hīkoi drew a crowd of 5,000.

Mitai Paraone-Kawiti before the hīkoi. (Image: Joel MacManus)

After waiting 45 minutes for the last of the crowd to start moving, I followed along, just ahead of the four horsemen at the rear. By then, the front of the march had reached Willis Street, 1.4km away. The line kept stretching as the front moved faster than the rear. When the first marchers arrived at parliament, the tail was still on Courtenay Place approaching the Taranaki Street intersection, 2.2km back.

The final protestors began their march from Waitangi Park as the front of the crowd reached Willis Street. (Image: Joel MacManus)

The horsemen who acted as tail-end Charlies. (Image: Joel MacManus)

At all points, the street and footpaths were packed with bodies, making it difficult to move. Dairies and takeaway shops along the route did a roaring trade. Aid stations were set up along the way, offering sunblock, water bottles, bags of chips and muesli bars.

As the back of the hīkoi turned into Lambton Quay, whispers began: “We’re not going to fit into parliament grounds, are we?” No, we weren’t, not even close. As we passed Public Trust Hall on Lambton Quay, the march slowed to a standstill. There was no more room to advance. We were 400 metres from parliament’s forecourt, where speakers had already begun addressing the crowd. People started splitting off down side streets, trying to find a route to get closer to the action.

The edge of the crowd on Whitmore Street. Image: Joel MacManus.I walked through the crowd and up Bowen Street – where many people had sat down to eat without a view of the forecourt – to reach parliament’s back entrance and photograph the scene from the Beehive balcony. Even from that height, the scale was impossible to capture.

The crowd on parliament grounds, viewed from the Beehive balcony. (Image: Joel MacManus)

The crowd stretched well beyond parliament to the surrounding streets. (Image: Joel MacManus)

There are a few contenders for New Zealand’s largest single-location protest: the 2010 Auckland rally against mining on conservation land, this year’s Dunedin hospital protest, the anti-Vietnam War march in 1971, and the 2019 School Strike for Climate in Wellington each drew crowds estimated at 30,000 to 40,000 people. The organisers of the Auckland school strike claimed to have 80,000 attendees, though those numbers are hard to prove. I watched the School Strike for Climate march to parliament in 2019, which reported a turnout of 40,000. To me, the hīkoi crowd looked at least 50% bigger.

We’ll never know the exact number at the hīkoi, but it was enormous. It was undoubtedly the most people who have ever marched on parliament. Was it New Zealand’s largest-ever protest? It’s impossible to say for sure, but yeah, probably.