THE MAORI AS HE IS TODAY

White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 9, 1 October 1948, Page 1

THE MAORI AS HE IS TODAY

Tlie subject on which l have been asked to speak, namely, “The Maori as lie is today,” is indeed a difficult one to present. It is exceedingly so, because it encompasses unlimited horizons of conjectures and hypotheses, yet, in turn, imparts so very little, hut, in dealing with it, 1 shall accept one of the many liberties it offers, and speak of the Maori, not as an individual, but as a race. You, who are assembled here must realise foremost and first, that to understand the Maori ot today, you must, with him, shed vour cloak of reserved ness, and understand the Maori of “yesterday.” Familiarity wit|i his yesteryears fits you to understand him today. Without this knowledge, we are merely the bond-servant of conjecture. To avoid such conflicting and disturbing thoughts, I shall in part devote myself to those years wherein he moved, unfettered, in this land of the Christmas trees. Let it be remembered, in this assembly, that the Maori of “yesteryears” bore upon his shoulders the ancestral greatness of his people. It was a sacred mantle. Civilisation had not touched him. He moved with that certain freedom that only the heart enjoys. He held his beliefs, and bowed his head in acknowledgment of the wisdom of his ancestral gods. And in the course of time, the Maori of yesterday passed on. But the years continued, and into these years stalked the silent shadow of civilisation. Out of the Hitting shadows of his proud past, from the depths of his ancient, but proud history, he was born anew. He is tK Maori you krtow f of “today.” But he is also a sad relic of his ancestral g-eatness. He shares with you your generation; but, uni kc you, he lives always in the glimp«.s of his yesteryears, for in those years lay his greatness.

Address given at a public gathering by a representative “Maori

Today, he travels with you, and the civilisation you introduced, its roads and byways, which are alien to bis nature. It traced for him, irretrievably, the death of his gods and inherited beliefs, and now lie shares with you, your reverence in the crucifixion of the Christ. In Ins new history, of Only 10/ years, he had pledged himself to honour the belief you manifested in him. It of the common mould, wherein in Christian or moral teachings, we are cast, and truly exist, the Maori holds out hi£ aged hand to_you for guidance. He cannot stand alone. He needs, as the least oi your offerings, your help; but much more, your understanding. To guide him should be the simple action ot you who know the story of the (iood Samaritan. The Maori walks with, though not always m step with you. He faces a world, a civilisation, new and promising And so, the Maori as he is today, stands before you. stripped of his ancestral greatness. He explores, with obvious timidity, the greatest citadel of your civilisation. He views it, not with misgivings, but with apprehension. He realises that he must accept this citadel, if only to surv iv e. He questions not as to whether it will survive the ravages of a thousand years. He sees only that it spelt the doom of his freedom anil his greatness. He finds himself precipitated suddenly into a world of science, and realises that he must go on. He stands in silence, perplexed, perhaps lending an ear to the voices of his ancestral gods, reiterating the deeds of his younger years. But their voices are dimmed by the span of time.. And so, the Maori of today looks wistfully at you, asking you to take his aged hand. He asks only one thing from you, and that is the gift to understand.

To give of this gdt would be a noble gesture, but it would only be Ins just reward. His outstretched hand gropes lor guidance. You can give him that. It rests with you to otter so unmistakable an action. “You are not pledged." lhen “Neither is lie. but you are both pledged by the fitter instincts of your natures, which need the best both can offer. It needs you and the “Maori of Today.”