LAND: getting it together

Kaea, Issue 3, 1 June 1980, Page 7

LAND: getting it together

Pehi Parata, a community officer with the Porirua office of Maori Affairs, “just happened to notice” an advertisement in the newspaper for a seminar on coastal zone management. Intrigued, he decided to go along, and afterwards filed this report with Te Kaea on some of the issues raised and discussed. But this is not just about coastal zoning. Pehi was shocked to discover on arriving at the seminar that he was the only Maori in the room, and he sounds this warning: “We must take a more active interest in issues which affect us. We owe it to ourselves and to our descendants to be informed and to be involved. We certainly cannot rely on others to voice our opinions, suggestions or grievances for us.”

One of the aims of this seminar was to bring together representatives of bodies which have diverse interests in our New Zealand coastline. In this respect the organisers, the Ministry of Transport, succeeded admirably, because across the board were government departments, scientists, conservationists, regional planners, commercial and amateur fishermnen and interested members of the public. But apart from myself there was no Maori representation.

I went along as a descendant of the former owners, and to put the point of view of those who have always regarded our coastlines as an important source of food, among other things. I was unable to be present for two discussions, on maritime planning and regional planning, but despite the fact that the seminar quota was already full I was able, with the help of the sympathetic Ministry of Transport officials in charge, to attend the day of discussions dealing with marine reserves.

Questions arose on whether the present legislation was adequate, whether we needed more marine reserves, and who should administer them. The idea of a coastal commission received some support, but maybe yet another creaky bureaucratic institution is the last thing we need, particularly if we are looking for speed and streamlining. Already there are seven acts, with amendments, to cover present coastline policy. To add further statutes to the books perhaps gives truth to the idea that we like signing and stamping papers in triplicate every time we ask for something.

But what has all of this to do with the price of flounder and mussels?

Plenty. We Maori use the sea and foreshore too, and any present or future legislation will affect not only the areas from which we gather our foodstocks but also our access to them. There is no need to mention here the present legislation just ask anybody who has applied for a permit to gather shellfish for a hui!

Competition has become fierce for the foreshore areas, with representations coming from educationalists, conservationists, scientists, divers and fishermen, regional planners, developers and us, but not necessarily in that order. My main point is that we must have an early say in the planning and formation of marine planning schemes. Here are two examples. In the maritime planning scheme put out by the Auckland

Harbour Board for Waitemata and Manukau harbours, it is stated that besides commercial and recreational usage, consideration has been made on behalf of “traditional Maori uses”.

However, not all such schemes have been so benevolent. ... From the Thames-Coromandel district comes notice of the council’s intention to reclaim 7.7 hectares of harbour for “sewage treatment works, including oxidation ponds for the purification of effluent prior to its discharge into the sea ...” The local people, both Maori and Pakeha, find this proposal obnoxious as the area is a traditional one for gathering kaimoana. Their case at the time of writing does not appear to be hopeless, fortunately. The Ministry of Transport is demanding that more time should be set aside to consider alternative sites, and submissions are being made to the Parliamentary Local Bills Committee and to the Waitangi Tribunal.

Traditionally, when competition was not so intense for coastal resources, tribal laws of rahui were enacted to guarantee the rejuvenation of the shellfish beds a kind of rotation farming that worked very well. Now, however, some traditional gathering areas are buried under reclamation, closed off for all kinds of reasons, or overrun with people intent on stripping the beds of the last remnants of shellfish. Clearly new remedies are needed. Areas do need to be set aside, for obvious reasons, as sites for scientific study, conservation, commercial development and the like. But we must not allow our own special interests to go overlooked. We need sound planning and management to perpetuate what assets are left to us, and we as Maori need to be in at the ground floor of such planning exercises, influencing the decision makers and making sure our voices are heard.

Meanwhile Atihana Johns, a lecturer at Hamilton Teacher Training College, has been trying to consolidate the position of his tribe (Ngati Kahu) on the Whatuwhiwhi Peninsula. This prime piece of real estate, ex-gumdigging land, forms the western arm of Doubtless Bay and has been in the news on and off over the last year or so as a result of tourist development proposals for the far north. This has put pressure on the local Maori landowners, and here Atihana talks about the hassles they are facing.

In January 1979 the Mangonui County Council of Northland arranged a meeting of shareholders of Maori land on Whatuwhiwhi Peninsula. They gave us a bill for $14,000 owing in back rates since about 1960 and left us to work out how we were going to pay it, as well as future rates. We paid SI,OOO at the meeting but a year hence our rates bill is back up to $14,000 again.

Because many shares are not yet succeeded to and many shareholders are now well and truly scattered over the globe, we decided to seek a collective solution by organising the shares so that we could get the land back into productivity, and above all retain it in our possession. We formed an

investigating committee to do the job and came smack up against all the emotions, conflicts, suspicions, differences and attitudes of shareholders or their spouses. We quickly realised that success was going to depend on communication between us and the shareholders.

Firstly, we had to establish trust. This isn’t easy for a tribe that has dispersed since the 1950 s when emigration out of Whatuwhiwhi to the towns began in earnest. We have been separated by time and geography, although our Auckland group is still very cohesive. There is some division between the home-bred Ngati Kahu and other shareholders who grew up in other related tribes but inherited shares from their Ngati Kahu ancestors. I belong to the home-bred. There are differences between the townies and the stay-at-homes; between the old and the young, with the old knowing very little about economics but being very supportive of the committee and the young with the knowledge; between those who view land in terms of dollars and cents and those who have a deep traditional attachment; between those mainly small shareholders who want a collective solution and those shareholders who have suddenly developed a belated and unrealistic wish to “do something” with land that has been sitting idle, waiting for them for twenty years.

Secondly, we had to set up a trust. We decided against an amalgamation because we didn’t have the resources or time to organise it, and we decided in favour of a 434 A Trust for the aggregation of shares. Two shareholders’ meetings later we finally nominated a list of trustees to be vetted and appointed by the Maori Land Court in January-February 1980. It was a hard slog just to get this far, and on the way, try to reassure some shareholders that we of the committee were not crooks stealing their precious heritage.

Finally, we have yet to decide on the use to which the land will be put. The thinking currently is for forestry and dry stock farming on those areas that are still in pasture or can be re-pastured cheaply. The total area if we can get the support of shareholders is about 4,000 acres.

The major factor which induced the county in 1979 to collect its rates was, I am sure, the proposed tourist resort put forward by various interests for Doubtless Bay Co. land on

the peninsula. Hearings for it took place last year, before the Planning Tribunal, and the outcome appears to be inconclusive. Such a scheme, despite county assurances, would affect our land values and rates among other things, adding further to our rates burden before we get a chance to pay arrears. The county offered us differential rates but we saw these as unworkable because they would be opposed by speculators who have already bought land around us. I did suggest to the Planning Tribunal that if the tourist resort had to go ahead, then it should be part of a total development plan for the whole peninsula incorporating forestry, farming, fishing, resettlement of Ngati Kahu people back on the land and marae development. Specifically I suggested that for every dollar spent on the resort, the developers spend a proportion of it (ten per cent?) on forestry, etc., to ensure “balanced” development.

To add to our headaches, the Ministry of Works has decided that it wants thirteen acres of our land on Karikari Point (where the Marine Department has a navigational beacon) for what appear to us to be very dubious reasons. They claim to be afraid that future development and buildings around the beacon will affect its operation, but since we own the surrounding land and have no intentions of building-high rise apartments there until the year 2105, their fears are unfounded. We of course intend to fight this little land grab.

Since this project began I have learned a great deal. Success is going to be dependent first of all on communicating, informing, exploring and persuading shareholders over and over again. As the secretary of the initial committee and now the nominated trustees, I have had this job. It is a step-by-step process of one hui after another and miles of travelling back and forth to Whatuwhiwhi on buses that take ages to get anywhere.

There is a significant number of shareholders whose attitude to land is mercenary. They would sell it to the highest bidder if they weren’t restricted by multiple ownership. Some 500 acres have already been sold in the last fifteen years, although at least half of this acreage was under mortgage to the Maori Affairs Department and there was some pressure to sell for this reason to clear the debt. This particular land was sold to the Crown. The point, however, is that Maori land means nothing to a significant proportion of Maori owners. I was surprised, for example, to see some Maoris marching in the Maori Land March of 1975 who have sold their own land of their own free will. These included some of the leaders of the March. In the fight to retain our land the last thing we need is hypocrisy. In order to rationalise the situation, those who wish to retain ownership should be loaned the money by the Maori Affairs Department to buy out those who do not want it.

A further problem is the inequalities of share ownership and the conflicts that arise between minority and majority shareholders. What is required is a system of equalising ownership a system of equal shares democratically controlled so that no shareholder has more than another, i.e. tribal ownership. The trouble with Maori land is that we have the worst features of both private Pakeha ownership and traditional communal Maori ownership.

We are still a long way from achieving our twin objectives of retaining our land and utilising it to earn money for rates and income. Unlike the speculators and developers, we have no capital. However we are not without means and provided we achieve greater unanimity and co-operation among shareholders for a good portion of the land, we can gain a good bargaining position in negotiations for forestry and other schemes. In the meantime if anyone has any constructive suggestions, please let me know.

Sig. 2

The new year got off to an exciting start for thousands of young Maori with the tribal youth wananga programme. Late last year a pilot programme was tried out in various parts of New Zealand as children were selected to visit, many for the first time in their lives, their tribal home areas. The scheme was a success, and a much more ambitious programme was designed to take place during the January holidays. Individual programmes and venues were arranged by local people who were in tune with the kinds of resources needed to bring out the fullest possible development in the young participants. The children, who ranged in age from eleven up to about eighteen, were in effect being sent back to school but school with a difference. They came away knowing something about the traditional arts, crafts, history and philosophy of their tipuna, and in most cases thirsty to find out more Bushcraft, whakapapw, carving, fishing, weaving, language and whaikorero, kowhaiwhai painting, kawa: these were some of the treasures which their old people were able to hand down. The benefits of the wananga are many. Old ways have received a new lease of life; young Maori have caught a glimpse of their traditional culture, and many have since spoken about their Maoriness as being something special and positive for them, not just a matter of brownness or being saddled with a surname none of their Pak dia friends could pronounce. The programme was funded by a government allocation of $120,000. This was originally designed to cater for only 1,000 children. But the scheme snowballed so much (in the Wanganui district, for example, organisers anticipated 100 young Maori, but 300 became involved) that in the end a number nearer 4,000 were involved. All the extra finances required came from

various Maori organisations and individuals. So another yardstick by which the success of the wananga may be measured is the huge and enthusiastic response it has brought from the people. Most of the young people came from the major urban areas, and most of the wananga were rurally based. But the wananga point the way to variations. Many city children are maintaining the friendships forged away in the country, and they, their parents and other concerned bodies have been looking at plans for continuing schemes in the cities, or have invited their country whanaunga back to their homes to return the hospitality. The sense of identity the wananga inspired has been of benefit to all concerned and stands to benefit even those who were not concerned, for the thinking behind this and other related programmes is that what is good for Maoridom must ultimately be good for the whole of New Zealand.