The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND SATURDAY, APRIL 20, 1929 THE BANNER OF TE WHITI

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 643, 20 April 1929, Page 8

The Sun 42 WYNDHAM STREET, AUCKLAND SATURDAY, APRIL 20, 1929 THE BANNER OF TE WHITI

INSPIRED by a sense of injustice that has survived for generations, and may linger yet for many more, 2,000 Maoris gathered near Waitara on Thursday last to observe the anniversary of the death of Te Whiti. The fact that they congregated in such numbers so soon after the immense gathering at Ngaruawahia perhaps betrays the gregarious instinct of the Maori and stresses his inordinate love of such rallies. So much being conceded, there remains behind the Taranaki gathering a significance and purpose of which the average white New Zealander to-day is unhappily ignorant. Thanks largely to the superficial manner in which domestic history is treated in the schools, very few are aware who the prophet Te Whiti was, or are familiar with the high-minded motives that guided him, or the shameful manner in which he was treated by the contemporary political fire-eaters of an enlightened Legislature. With a passionate sincerity perhaps too fervent to be flaunted in the common ways of life, the Maoris affected by the confiscations of 1864 regard Te Whiti as the champion of their cause. He was essentially a Christian pacifist, a man who : —if a little eccentric in his interpretation of theological doctrines — deserved of his countrymen a national memorial; something to say that here, at least, was a man who turned the temper of his people aside from thoughts of war and rebellion, and who soberly advised them to avoid resort to violence no matter ho.w urgent the sense of injustice in their breasts. When Te Whiti raised his curious standard with its white-feather emblem at Parihaka 50 years ago, a panic swept into the hearts of politicians, and the gentle soul was taken manacled from his people, while their homes were pillaged and their crops destroyed. It caused Sir Robert Stout to exclaim in horror: “What will the impartial historian of the future record against us as a race?” and it drew severe censure from a section of the English and colonial Press. So much for Te Whiti. The gathering at Waitara to-day differs in no way save in the more enlightened character of the participants from that which gathered about the pale plume at Parihaka. But there is no longer any fear that the Maori may resort to arms. He is united to the pakeha in bonds of the firmest amity. His blood has flowed with the white man’s in common cause on foreign fields. It may be that this striking cordiality between the two races has persuaded a section of politicians that the underlying grievances have been amended or forgotten. To adopt that attitude is to betray the friendship of the Maori race, and if mention of pledges forgotten or dishonoured is omitted in everyday civilities or exchanges, the great impulse behind the gathering at Waitara —an impulse plainly stated to place its purpose above Church or creed—should suffice to remind us that the spirit and the cause of Te Whiti live on. A rare glimpse of their earnestness was afforded Parliament last September when the voluminous report of the Confiscated Lands Commission was presented. The commission’s report naturally went back to the deep-laid origins of the trouble, to the blundering hastiness of Governor GoreBrowne in his dealings with the Waitara chiefs, to the tactical success scored by the Maoris in their obstruction of the surveyors by the uncouth and distasteful attentions of the tribal crones, and to the far-reaching proclamation of confiscations issued on December 17, 1864, with the dual purpose of inflicting a punishment on the hostile tribes and yielding revenue for the prosecution of the disastrous war. The story is old, hut its romantic lustre does not tarnish. Having considered the history of the conflict in all its lights, the commission made recommendations based on the fundamental conclusion that the Waitara purchase was an illegal act, and that the trouble was thus illegally begun. There were those in Parliament who should yield place to none in their efforts for the Maoris. Foremost was the Rt. Hon. J. G. Coates, a persistent advocate of their cause. Even a Prime Minister, however, must move circumspectly when the expenditure of large sums of money is recommended. The confiscations reviewed took place over the whole of the Waikato, in the Bay of Plenty, in Taranaki, and even as near Auckland as the rural suburb of Mangere. The system of doing justice in these eases has to be modified by a clear perception of the vast oscillations in values, and the Waitara gathering shows a tendency to overif it declines to accept the unbiased and highly competent commission’s recommendations. The trouble is that nothing has yet been done toward putting those recommendations into effect. There is an atmosphere of “taihoa”; a feeling that the question is not one of urgency, a political enthusiasm which is more oral than practical. Until a definite step is taken the Maori will continue to have a basis for dissatisfaction, and a legitimate suspicion of official sincerity.