Abortion and Maori Women

Tu Tangata, Issue 31, 1 August 1986, Page 30

Abortion and Maori Women

na Julia Stuart

na PHILIP WHAANGA

na HIRIA RAKETE

HE RERENGA KORERO

ONE of the unsettling things about Wellington's Parkview Clinic is the number of Maori women who come there to have an abortion. You notice it, just sitting in the waiting room. The staff notice it too. They commented on it at the Wellington Women’s Summit Conference in 1984. Abortion counsellors told the workshop on reproductive control that high numbers of Maori and Pacific Island women were having abortions at Parkview numbers quite of proportion to those of the general population.

Recent statistics now bear out these impressions. “Maori total abortion rates are 24% higher than those for europeans,” the New Zealand Planning Council reported late last year. Their report reveals that one Maori woman in every three will have an abortion in her lifetime. But the report adds that this may be an underestimate, as staff at abortion clinics have quite often misrecorded Maori women as being of european race.

These high levels of abortion are “issues of concern” says the Planning Council report. But it does not tackle the issue further, or ask why the higher rate, or what could or should be done about it. In some quarters, the higher abortion rate is seen as a continuation of the earlier cultural practices. “Maori women with unwanted pregnancies do not regard the practice of abortion with the antipathy that some people imagine they do,” according to Dr Rex Hunton of Auckland, who was active in setting up the first large-scale abortion clinic in New Zealand. “Abortion and infanticide were practiced by the Maori, and were relatively common," he says, quoting early european travellers in New Zealand.

But opinions differ. In a 1984 circular to hospital boards and nursing staff, the Department of Health warned that a patient requesting abortion should be viewed “within the totality of her family and her past and present value systems.” The circular on ‘Maori Culture’ goes on to say that “Maori women rarely seek an abortion. On psychiatric grounds, it may be dangerous to terminate a pregnancy if it is requested. If. after the abortion, a child born into the extended family is deformed in any way, it will probably be regarded as a result of the abortion.”

destroyed ... it becomes an evil spirit with a malevolence that is determined by its resentment at not having known human existence. The evil spirit can take its revenge through inflicting pain, disease or ill fortune. It may attack the person responsible for its destruction, but this is not necessarily so, as it may attack the weakest member of the extended family, and it may take its revenge for a number of years."

The Rapuora survey undertaken by the Maori Womens Welfare League on the health of Maori women found that those in younger age groups and those in urban areas had less cultural involvement than their mothers, and that many did not know their whanau, hapu and iwi linkages. Elizabeth Murchie, Research Director for the Rapuora project, believes that it could be these women who participate in abortion, lacking as they do tribal or family support. The survey questionnaire did not touch on abortion; however, it did find that eight out of ten Maori women

This belief stems from the Maori understanding of the unborn child, says the Department of Health circular. “Maori attitudes to abortion include the view that the foetus should not be destroyed as it has an advanced soul or spirit. The god-given life in the foetus should not be destroyed by man. If it is

were sexually active and that half of these were not taking any steps to avoid having a baby.

An earlier survey, conducted in the Manawatu area, showed that Maori women tended to be ‘more conservative’ than those of other races. They were less likely to believe in abortion for economic reasons or in abortion on demand.

So why do Maori women use abortion more than their pakeha sisters? Elizabeth Murchie believes that it may be for economic reasons. “A high proportion of our women work because they have to,” she says. “The economic pressures on so many of our families put them at risk, and they cannot afford to lose the mother’s income.” This squares up with abortion clinic reports, which find that most of their Maori patients are of “low socio-economic status.” It may also explain another characteristic of Maori women seeking abortion: many of those going to abortion clinics are slightly older women who already have children, whereas the great majority of pakeha women at the clinics are young, single and aborting their first pregnancies.

Whetu Tirikatene-Sullivan, MP for Southern Maori, sees abortion as a form of exploitation of women. “Every unwanted pregnancy demonstrates the exploitation of the female, who is simply left holding the baby,” she told the Hui Taumata in 1984. “Freedom to choose" is not freedom for abortion on demand, she said. “It is the freedom to say no, to reject the predatory male, and freedom to report unwanted pressures, whether from strangers, relatives, bosses, co-workers, supposed suitors or con men.” Mrs Tirikatene-Sullivan believes that abortion is a form of violence, and that non-violent solutions must be found for those who face unwanted pregnancy.

There are other reasons advanced for the higher rate of abortion among Maori women. One is a lack of confidence and self-respect, especially among younger women, who feel unable to say no to a male doctor who suggests that abortion is the best way out of a predicament. “I was raped, see?” said one anxious young woman on her way up to Parkview Clinic in Wellington. “The doctor thinks this is the best thing I can do." Those who cannot fall back on support from their whanau may be especially vulnerable to this sort of pressure. “Mass abortiomsm could be the most grievous threat facing our ethnic minorities.”

□ THE MATRIARCH

Witi Ihimaera Heinemann Publishers, $27.95

It’s big, it’s powerful and will not disappoint Ihimaera fans. After a ten year silence, the story-telling of Pounamu Pounamu and Tangi has now matured into The Matriarch. The big difference is Witi is now more prepared to draw the conclusions rather than just paint the picture.

Where before his characters came to town and gazed in wonder at the pakeha world, or else accepted pakeha culture boots and all, they now give speeches railing against the pakeha land greed, the pakeha spiritual wasteland, the domination and oppression. In fact the line is drawn through most of the novel of the similarity of the Maori people to the oppressed children of Israel.

‘Pharaoh, let my people go’, is the frequent cry of the people who live in The Matriarch. Pharoah is variously identified as being Major Biggs, the obstinate army officer fighting Te Kooti Rikirangi, Reverend Williams, a clergyman of the Gisborne area and amongst the Prime Minister. However as you may have gathered, all this is set back before the turn of the century and afterwards.

The Matriarch-draws on fact and fiction. The fiction is the strong woman,

Artemis Riripeti Mahana. The fact is she is based on Riria Mauaranui, a chieftainess of great influence of Te Aitanga-a-Mahaki and Rongowhakaata and whose son was Wi Pere, an outstanding figure in Turanganui-a-Kiwa and later a formidable politician.

Witi is descended from this matriarch as am I. No doubt the mokopuna of the matriarch, Artemis, called Tama, is drawn partly from Witi’s own experience and some blurring of fact and fiction. Whatever it was, the intensity of the whakapapa and remorseless sowing of seeds of retribution makes this book a spell-binder.

For me the intermingling of my tupuna with the tale of power, corruption and destiny made for compulsive reading which a more detached reader might not get. The house of Rongopai back at Waituhi features in the more peaceful scenes where the young Tama is knitted together by his powerobsessed grandmother. Hers is a rough justice of giving knocks so that independence is built up.

At times she comes across as a bit weird, especially her compulsion in her latter years to keep running away with the moko, while at the same time making sure the family know where she’s going.

Witi uses a time lapse sequence which darts back and forward in time. Normally I find this obtrusive and frustrating but Witi has succeeded in The Matriarch.

Witi’s passion for opera and a diplomat’s appreciation of foreign shores has been indulged in the larger-than-life figure of Artemis. Even down to her name and her fondness for singing Italian opera in times of family crises, the matriarch exudes mystery and ariki bloodlines.

At times I felt some of the characters were used to ‘preach’ to the largely pakeha audience that will devour this destined-to-be bestseller. I say this partly based on the steep book price and also on the hunger there is in the New Zealand market-place for such books as this. It may surprise some pakeha to discover the hurt that is apparent in this book, a hurt that Witi has done well to effectively package and deliver in a rather poetic way so that the user will pay.

Witi may have been seen by some Maori as not telling the true story about the urbanisation of the Maori people when he wrote The New Net Goes Fishing, but I feel he has redressed the balance with The Matriarch.

o KARANGA

The lull of waiata welcomed the manuhiri into the Karanga Karanga Art Exhibition at the City Art Gallery, Wellington.

It wasn’t the token piupiu-here-kete-there kind of thing. Creativity, imagination, and captivity gripped ones attention and held it there, spell bound until someone bustled their way through to see what was holding up the cue.

The pride of being Maori, and women, hit the audience smack in the face.

The energy, subtle yet demanding, was here. Wairua and tinana, was enshrined in the gallery.

At first mind boggling, the presence of the artists and their perception of life sunk in.

About 20 yards from the door stood a pou. Forcing the floor and ceiling apart, like Rangi and Papa’s children, the pou stood there staunch.

Clothing the pou was a korowai unique it’s in toetoe, mussel shell and ti leaves.

Called “Taranga”, the art piece stood there. Matriarchal in status, dominating in feature, yet humble in its surroundings.

And that was the tone for the whole Karanga Karanga exhibition.

Visitors, Maori and non-Maori, oggled at each piece of poetry, mural, canvas, exhibit designed by Maori women of and resident in the Wellington area.

From kete-making demonstrations to silk screening, the 74 Maori women artists managed to cover a wide range of exhibits.

Wellington was the first of three Karanga, Karanga exhibitions to be shown throughout the North Island.

Auckland and Gisborne stunned their audiences with pottery, fibres and fabric, taniko, designer jewellery and clothes and sculpture.

The after effects of the extolled Karanga Karanga exhibition lead to

another showing of contemporary art at the Visual Arts Gallery in Wellington. And in Napier, the director of the museum, David Butt, is collecting a permanent display of Maori art for artists of Kahungunu descent. The scope for Maori artists in this light, is heartening. Kia kaha wahine ma. Kia u kite wairua o to tatou taonga whakahirahira mo te iwi. Kia ora koutou katoa.