Why Māori wards are critical for Kiwi democracy

T‘Power needs to be given back to communities, particularly in districts with proportionately higher Māori populations that have been historically underrepresented.

his local body election season has seen plenty of ko¯ rero about Mā ori wards, as Aotearoa moves towards a more inclusive system of governance.

Mā ori wards are not, as some claim, a dilution of democracy. They’re about sitting in unity at the top table, enshrining the rights indigenous people are granted under Te Tiriti o Waitangi/the Treaty of Waitangi.

While the hı¯koi to the adoption of Mā ori Wards has received predictable pushback, ultimately constituent voices and collective conscience have won out. It’s the right choice to make.

Shifting the local government system to be more representative opens a smoother pathway for tangata whenua aspirations to be realised through reform and reconciliation. While legally the local government system is dutybound to embody the Crown’s obligations under the treaty partnership, it should not be about how many voters turn out.

It must be about embedding strategic roles for Mā ori in decision-making at the highest governance level within the dense siloed systems and structures of local government. This will honour Ko te Tuarua (Article 2) in Te Tiriti, centred on Mā ori making decisions about resources and taonga; and Ko te Tuatoru (Article 3), which demands equal rights for Mā ori and non-Mā ori.

If this genuinely happens, council practices and policies will be far more inclusive and representative of indigenous values, removing barriers to kaupapa Mā ori.

Power needs to be given back to communities, particularly in districts with proportionally higher Mā ori populations that have been historically underrepresented.

Now, Mā ori Ward councillors will have an equal voice to participate fully like any other councillor, resulting in local decision-making that’s authentic to the views, issues and challenges of iwi, hapā , whā nau and urban Mā ori.

Rate hikes are high in growing cities, and many whā nau are struggling to hold onto their whare and maintain payments because of the impact of development in affluent areas. Mā ori-led policy could see compassionate rate relief for people under a certain income threshold, and support for local marae development.

Ensuring mana whenua have more say over pollution and climate change effects will also benefit Mā ori and non-Mā ori.

Within my own whā nau, our kaumā tua and whanaunga ‘‘water warriors’’ from Ngā ti Tama of Te Tau Ihu o Te Waka-ā -Maui have fought to uphold the kaitiakitanga of the sacred waters at Te

Waikoropupā Springs, entailing expensive, long-running litigation.

Elevating Mā ori successes, identities, voices and world views should not be feared; instead, rich and meaningful Mā ori history should be embraced in every rohe.

At an extraordinary meeting I attended last year at Hamilton City Council, impassioned locals submitted both for and against Mā ori wards. Rangatira Mā ori spoke with eloquent conviction, unanimous that the wards would benefit future generations.

Lady Tureiti Moxon, a qualified lawyer and former member of the Waitangi Tribunal, made a fair point by sharing a legal lesson on the Coat of Arms of New Zealand, succinctly getting to the heart of what a relationship of ‘‘unity’’ means.

The coat of arms symbolises a covenant agreement of Tino Rangatiratanga between the Crown and Rangatira Mā ori. A partnership of equals. Mutual prosperity. Standing together on the whenua, side by side.

The whakaaro of Ngira Simmonds, the Archdeacon for the Kı¯ngitanga, encapsulated it all: ‘‘We do not seek to usurp your mana; rather we seek to dwell together with you.’’

As Aoteroa continues this hı¯koi, may all society see that what benefits Mā ori, benefits everyone.