Tena koutou, tena koutou, tenara koutou katoa! Nga mihi nui kia koutou! (Hello you, hello you, hello you all. Huge greetings to you).
I am writing this on the last day of the 2020 observance of Te Wiki o te Reo Maori (Maori Language Week) which just happens to coincide with the opening shots in the 2020 General Election campaign in which the Maori Party (hereafter TPM for Te Pati Maori) has announced a policy to change the name of New Zealand to Aotearoa, and the Pakeha names of towns and cities to their Maori originals.
Predictably, this policy has attracted extreme reactions, from Dame Tariana Turia’s declaration that colonialists should never have been allowed to impose their will on the original indigenous inhabitants, to the rednecks who protest against anything they think is a concession to Maori.
These reactions divert attention from two inescapable facts:
Firstly, a change in our country’s name will never happen because it will not be permitted by either Labour or National. This is because they will want to avoid confrontation with such a political can of worms. We may see more subtitles in te reo to our civic names, such as Tamaki Makaurau for Auckland, but the “City of Sails” will remain Auckland internationally and for most Kiwis; and at least when the Maori name is pronounced most Kiwis will know which city is being discussed. What we must strenuously avoid is that double-banger monstrosity Aotearoa-New Zealand: one or the other in context, but please let’s forget that meaningless mouthful (as I discuss further down with respect to Ireland).
Secondly, TMP is perfectly entitled to advocate such a policy because it appeals to so many of the people on the Maori electoral roll, who are the only voters permitted by law to elect MPs to represent the seven Maori constituencies. TPM is thus talking to its people in much the same way as Labour used to talk to “the working class” while National appealed to farmers and commercial people.
I hope this is not the first sign that Maori may be becoming afflicted with the unfortunate Kiwi cultural cringe that I thought New Zealand as a whole had lost a few years ago.
Wikipedia tells us: Cultural cringe, in cultural studies and social anthropology, is an internalized inferiority complex that causes people in a country to dismiss their own culture as inferior to the cultures of other countries. It is closely related to the concept of colonial mentality and is often linked with the display of anti-intellectual attitudes towards thinkers, scientists, and artists who originate from a colonial or post-colonial nation. It can also be manifested in individuals in the form of cultural alienation.
Remember the generations that used to refer to the United Kingdom as “home”, and how we marvelled at the feats of Jack Lovelock and Edmund Hillary as winning world acclaim while hailing from little ‘ol New Zealand? While I never agreed with his politics, I am one who will always be grateful for the efforts of Norman Kirk (1923-74), the Prime Minister who died before being able to fully fire us with his legacy of holding our Kiwi heads high in this world. These days we take for granted our international recognition as a land noted for the No 8 wire ingenuity of our people, and for the purity and high quality of the primary produce that is the basis of our economy. And where better in the world for the location of the Lord of the Rings films? Leaving aside our current unfortunate restrictions, we travel the world as confident citizens of a nation that commands well-deserved respect.
It’s a deficiency of just that level of self-confidence that worries me about this latest Maori call for name changes. I contrast that with my own personal status as a Pakeha of Irish descent. I rejoice in being called Pakeha, because that makes me one of a unique number in this world, non-Maori but native to New Zealand. As the grandson on my father’s side of someone born in County Cavan, I qualify for Irish citizenship (and must get around to those formalities before I leave this world), while on my mother’s side, as a McMahon I can claim descent from the legendary Brian Boru. I’m known for saying that the greatest blessing in this world is to be born in New Zealand of Irish descent.
What’s so special about Ireland and the Irish? In their diaspora to just about every corner of Planet Earth, the Irish have taken with them their unfailing sense of optimism and self-confidence, intelligence and a goodly measure of political clout; the latter especially in the United States.
The Irish lost any cringe they might have had following the influence of the great St Patrick who persuaded them that a love of learning was far more rewarding than their previous cattle and warrior culture. So about the same time in history that the first Polynesians were voyaging south to make new homes in what is now New Zealand, Irish monks were penetrating deep into continental Europe, restoring civilisation to lands made barren physically and mentally after being ravaged by Mongol invasions and book-burnings. Inspired by Patrick, Irish monks had copied Judeo-Christian writings to preserve them for posterity, such as the inspirational Book of Kells that can still be viewed daily in the library of Trinity College, Dublin. These were the lessons that those Irish monks took back to Europe and installed in the many universities they went on to found in what are now major Continental cities.
That’s why those of us of Irish descent are proud of our Celtic/Gaelic forebears. That’s why you may hear or read of us referring to Eire (as in the language of the Irish Constitution) or to the Republic of Ireland, or our songs using artistic terms such as Erin, the Emerald Isle of the Auld Sod. But never, ever will you hear us besmirch the memory of our forefathers by such a cringeworthy term as Eire-Ireland. Just as you never hear Germans refer to Deutschland-Germany. Or Dutch to Nederlands-Holland. In their own languages it’s Deutschland and Nederlands; in English it’s Germany and Holland. Just as we should be: Aotearoa in te reo, New Zealand in English.
As with the Irish, respect for tupuna (ancestors) is also a hallmark of our Maori brethren along with those other key principles of te ao Maori (the Maori world) that we Pakeha would do well to practise more widely and more intensely in our own lives:
tika, doing what is right and proper;
pono, doing what is just and fair;
mana, living in a way that earns you respect;
tapu, respecting the mana of others; and
aroha, love for others.
That’s the root of my concern that this latest call for change of names to te reo may be a manifestation of a cultural cringe among Maori that is both unnecessary and unjustified.
Just as being Pakeha is being a New Zealander, so too is being Maori. In fact, readers of the history of British Colonial Office communications in the period leading up to the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840 will learn that there was no such term as Maori in those days. The then Polynesian inhabitants of the new land were always referred to as “New Zealanders”.
And that’s why I have always argued that when Governor William Hobson said in te reo just after the signing: He iwi tahi tatou (We are one people) his meaning probably was : “Now we Britons are one people with you Maori”, not the other way round as is commonly argued.
And, finally, that’s why no one of Maori descent should ever admit to being offended by the use of New Zealand as our official name in local or international terms. I have a particular personal concern: I spent too many years persuading the world of the unique taste and flavour qualities of our wines, now enjoyed in over 100 countries around the world and our sixth most valuable export, destined to reach $2 billion dollars per annum by the end of 2020. We don’t want to put that at risk with a new name that so many of our overseas customers will never be able to get their tongues around.
So my final words to all my fellow Kiwis, regardless of ethnic origin: be proud that we have two names we can interchange as we see fit: New Zealand and Aotearoa. We can use whichever we prefer at the time and in context, safe in the knowledge that we know we are referring to our own beloved native or adopted country. But, please, one or the other, never both together!
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