Analysis: A rare national call for unity helped shape an extraordinary year to be Māori, writes 1News reporter Te Aniwa Hurihanganui.
On the eve of the Māori King’s death, thunderstorms ripped through the country.
The old walls of my grandparents’ house in Masterton, where I was staying, trembled in the darkness. Outside, the rain was relentless. It poured and poured.
Waikato University Professor Tom Roa would later tell reporters that the skies that night were a tohu, a sign that a great loss was coming. And yet, when it came, few could believe it.
She was brought on to the marae by chiefs of the land, led by paramount chief Tā Tumu Te Heuheu. (Source: Kiingitanga) (Source: Supplied)
Just a week earlier, the Māori King had sat under the mahau of his meeting house at Tūrangawaewae Marae during Koroneihana, an annual week-long event marking the anniversary of his coronation.
That Monday had been reserved for the Government’s visit, and spectators were looking forward to seeing politicians go head to head with some of Waikato’s greatest orators in the wake of coalition policies some felt were in breach of the Treaty of Waitangi.
The atmosphere was tense from the moment Christopher Luxon walked through the marae’s famous gates. Te Rākau Hūmārie approached him, a group of over a dozen men, wielding rākau and exposing their tongues.
The King sat up in his chair and watched as his former advisor Tukoroirangi Morgan took the first stand on the paepae, looked the Prime Minister in the eye, and demanded that he stop throwing Māori under the bus.
It was raining then, too. And I was there, reporting on the occasion for 1News, unaware that it would be the last time I would see the King alive.
When the news of his death landed in my inbox, I was stunned. And completely unprepared. I was on annual leave and a six-hour drive away from Ngāruawāhia, with no car, laptop, or work clothes.
But I quickly made a plan, stuffed my gear into a bag, and hugged my nana and grandad good-bye. Mum kindly took the morning off to drive me to Wellington Airport.
I don’t remember anything Mum said to me during that drive. Or the flight to Auckland. And I don’t remember meeting my camera operator when I landed, or the conversation we had as we drove south.
My mind was in Ngāruawāhia, where thousands of mourners would travel over the coming days to remember Kiingi Tuheitia, the reluctant King, who in the depths of mourning had been named his mother’s successor 18 years earlier.
Who would now take his place? And what would his legacy be?
Unifying iwi
Perhaps the latter was answered earlier this year, when the Māori King hosted the first of five hui ā motu.
The rare national gathering was a response to a growing anxiety about what the new coalition Government meant for Māori.
Its policy commitments over the use of te reo, Māori wards, Oranga Tamariki, the Māori Health Authority, customary rights to the foreshore and seabed, and the Treaty of Waitangi had left many reeling.
Shortly after those commitments were revealed, the Māori King issued a royal proclamation, a call to action to “unify the nation” and “ensure all voices were heard when holding the new Government to account”.
Iwi from every corner of the land were invited to attend the hui. And on January 20, more than 10,000 people answered the call. The crowds were so large, the marae was forced to open a second gate to let them all in.
Following a 10,000 strong hui at Ngāruawāhia uniting against the coalition’s Treaty Principles Bill, there’s warning — this is just the beginning. (Source: 1News)
Chief among their concerns, it appeared, was the controversial Treaty Principles Bill.
“How dare they think they can take the Treaty apart,” said Northland leader Hone Harawira.
“Nobody’s ever been able to do it before, and these bastards won’t be able to do it now.”
Former Prime Minister Dame Jenny Shipley was there too.
“This is ground I would not wish to move through,” she said. “That’s because I believe the Treaty stands for itself.”
The scale of opposition and anger over the Bill was massive, and that sentiment would only grow louder as the year unfolded.
But that’s not what Kiingi Tuheitia chose to focus on when he stood to give his address back in January.
Instead, he spoke of unity.
“The best protest we can do right now is be Māori. Be who we are, live our values, speak our reo, care for our mokopuna,” he said.
“Today is about kotahitanga. We need to be united first, and then we decide our future.”
The Māori King said he had received calls from all over the world regarding the national hui and that indigenous nations were supporting the cause. (Source: 1News)
Remembering a significant loss
By the time I arrived at the King’s tangihanga on August 30, it was nearly 3pm. I stumbled into the designated media room set up across the road from the marae, carrying a bag of clothes I’d purchased at the airport and a borrowed laptop.
Inside, there were journalists everywhere, including Māori broadcasting greats like Tini Molyneux, Wena Harawira, Mihingarangi Forbes, Tamati Rimene-Sproat, and Kereama Wright. Mike McRoberts burst through the doors a few minutes after I did.
I found the TVNZ team there too – Auckland reporters Yvonne Tahana and Isobel Prasad, presenter Melissa Stokes, producer Alix Higby, a group of camera operators and our Te Karere colleagues. Our political editor Maiki Sherman would arrive the following day.
It’s remarkable how quickly journalists can drop everything when the call comes. But to see so many Māori journalists there that day filled me with pride.
The clock was ticking and I didn’t have much time. I raced around interviewing the first mourners as they poured in. Hundreds of men and women cloaked in black were already lining River Road. They held one another, tears streaming down their cheeks.
The haukāinga’s army of volunteers were ready for them – cooks, cleaners, dish washers, servers, security, rubbish collectors, groundsmen and office staff. Ready to take care of the masses and ready to uphold the mana of their marae.
Seeing them all reminded me of something my dad told me once – that tangihanga were less about the dead, and more about the living; a process that helped the grieving cope with loss.
So it wasn’t a surprise to learn we would need to be in Ngāruawāhuia for at least the next six days, with groups expected to arrive from all over the country – and the world. This was indeed an extraordinary loss.
I scripted that night’s story on my phone and sent it back to the newsroom. A colleague there helped fill in some gaps. And somehow, within minutes of the bulletin, it was ready to go to air.
As I waited outside the marae to cross live into the 6pm news, the opening credits started to play through my earpiece.
And then came Melissa Stokes’ voice.
“Ka horo te tihi o Taupiri, ka horo,” she began.
“E kapo ki nga whetū. Ki te marama. Haere e te Kiingi, moe mai rā.”
A long day had reached its end.
But the biggest tangihanga in a generation was only beginning.
Those paying their respects include Governor-General Dame Cindy Kiro. (Source: 1News)
A new era
Days later, just before the seventh Māori monarch was buried, his successor was named.
I was standing out on the road when it happened, shoulder to shoulder with thousands of people who couldn’t fit in the marae grounds.
All eyes were on the big screen set up along the footpath, where the next monarch would soon be revealed.
The anticipation was electric. A group of giggling rangatahi were standing nearby, gossiping about who they thought it might be. Families huddled together, watching and waiting.
Hundreds of phones waved in the air, ready to capture the moment.
And suddenly, after days of speculation, she appeared. Kiingi Tuheitia’s youngest child, and only daughter, Nga wai hono i te po.
The crowd roared.
Some cried.
I saw a little girl jumping up and down yelling, “It’s a Queen!”
That moment felt so profound. A new era was beginning.
She was brought on to the marae by chiefs of the land, led by paramount chief Tā Tumu Te Heuheu. (Source: Kiingitanga) (Source: Supplied)
But just like her father’s, Te Arikinui Kuini Nga wai hono i te po’s reign would begin in the most solemn of ways.
Her first duty was to guide her father down the Waikato River towards Taupiri Maunga, his final resting place.
The fleet of waka carrying him on that journey, as thousands watched from the banks, was a sight to behold. The sky was clear and the air warm.
When they got to the maunga, the King was carried to the top by his favourite rugby league clubs, and buried alongside his ancestors.
But his quest for unity did not die with him.
Taking a silent stand
There’s a tikanga, or custom, some Māori observe when a relative dies. They don’t speak on the marae until a year has passed since their loved one’s death.
So, in the months following the King’s tangihanga, the new Māori Queen quietly attended various events around the motu, showing her face, but staying silent.
It remained that way when a national hīkoi opposing the Treaty Principles Bill left Te Rerenga Wairua, at the top of the North Island, in early November.
Organisers had warned it would be the biggest protest the country had ever seen, and as the hīkoi passed through towns and cities on its way to Wellington, many were beginning to believe it.
The crowds were enormous. And at each leg of the journey, they grew. It felt as though the hīkoi was all anyone, anywhere, was talking about.
Except for the Kiingitanga, who hadn’t said a word on the protest for days.
That all changed on November 17, two days before the hīkoi was due to arrive at Parliament.
A press release from the Kiingitanga announced the Māori Queen’s intention to join the final leg of the hīkoi in the capital.
“The Maaori Queen is willing to help lead a conversation about nationhood and national unity but will not accept a unilateral process that undermines Te Tiriti o Waitangi,” it said.
1News’ Te Aniwa Hurihanganui reports from the capital as Hīkoi mō te Tiriti arrived. (Source: 1News)
Te Arikinui Kuini Nga wai hono i te po was taking a stand.
“Our nation’s strength lies in honoring the promises we make to each other,” the Kiingitanga statement continued.
“As the late Kiingi Tuheitia said at te Hui-aa-Motu earlier this year, the best protest we can do is to be Maaori all day every day.”
Note: The use of double vowels in this article reflects the dialect used by the Kiingitanga/Kīngitanga which uses double vowels (aa, ee, ii, oo, uu) in place of macronised vowels (ā, ē, ī, ō, ū).
